The artists of the world take note As they draw The all seeing eye Seeing life through artists eye Shades of light and dark

Breathing rainbows in the snow Sitting in the white fluffy stuff Cold as ice I mix it with some spice

The great escape Means so many different things to me Watching the well known movie As I go on holiday

I wake up I do not feel quite the same I stretched out and made sounds of meow I might scratch you My arms and hands

My own life dream I wanted to be the best that I could be Dreaming of a wide open space Never walking down narrow minded lanes

I’ve lost My words They are just pieces of dust Blown away in the strong verse of wind Swirling down the river of words

Travelled so far With love in your mechanical heart Golden flowers in your mechanical hand Interplanetary man Catching a shooting star

Spaceman Spaceman Holding flower power in your silver hands Greeting all of humankind A voice of mystery that seems to be

Should I step forward? Should I step back? I know the world feels unreal My computer talks back to me Without being asked

A floating storybook Gliding in the greying cloudy skies Guided by the Keeper’s of the book Following the winding train tracks

Singing teapot Steamin’ hot Spouts of trombones Everyone wants a groovy teapot at home This retro threesome Show their big band style

Oranges are not the only fruit They taste beautiful They are alive and do bloom They hurt when pulled from the green leafed tree

I’m living in a cartoon world In a world filled with too many Pinocchio’s Every time one opens their mouth Another inch grows

Frustration is a game of life We cannot avoid it As much as we try As we throw the dice More than once Frustrations of life

It was Easter Egg Race Day The day of the great chocolate egg race It definitely has no grace A lot of pace

I used to listen to the world in stereo Through my new headphones The sound was crystal clear I almost could hear a plectrum drop

I have misplaced my words I have lost my verse My imagination has taken a vacation I have lost my track of thought

Sometimes, I feel invisible Sometimes, I feel like I am not here My words cannot be heard I’m unable to speak

My mobile phone You are my home For my creative self Notes upon notes of poems I wrote I composed My own blog

Has the world gone off the rails Lost all common sense When will woke end? Are we to become electric men?