myway

I've done it my way. That is true to a certain extent. Mostly I am a gleaming sort of guy. I have this way of listening and hearing. Each thing, either heard or seen plays a song in my head. The records all meant something. The choices were momentary and yet lasting. I think mostly in prose. Songs measure high on my list of things that move me. I find great attraction to performance. The picture you see is one of my collection of memories. The young sailor is my father. I only knew him for a moment. But, as my mother says "blood is thicker then water." I know I am him. I started just as most others... a happenstance of lustful passion. Passion to this day is my uppermost thoughtful longing. I know there are those that cringe at such. Whatever! I admit my desire. I want love. I want to make love anytime and anywhere. I am going to tell you how I feel now and once upon a time. I will include those words to the songs that I heard along the way. That is my poetry heard. I never read much. So I will start wandering and hope you enjoy the passage. If not...Oh well.

(by eric clapton)

Bell bottom blues, you made me cry.
I don’t want to lose this feeling.
And if I could choose a place to die
It would be in your arms.

Do you want to see me crawl across the floor to you?
Chorus

Bell bottom blues, don’t say goodbye.
I’m sure we’re gonna meet again,
And if we do, don’t you be surprised
If you find me with another lover. 

I enlisted in 1965.  My bell bottoms with thirteen buttons landed on both domestic and foreign shores. Strutting, then casting them on many a floor was great adventure and a young man's poetry rolled into one.