What good is weeping
While turtles still crawl
Through the tall, wet grass?
What good is sorrow
When love still grows
In every fresh smile?
Poems where far too much happens.
Poems where nothing happens at all.
I’m just an old man with a pencil and paper
Waiting for the coffee to brew. -Jobe
“Your mind is on vacation and your mouth is working overtime.”
"I don't think about time. You're here when you're here. I think about today, staying in tune."
-John Lee Hooker
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