Behind The Forest

> Under the tent
> can't describe this light.
> Under the black base
> are blue and red shadows.
> The ink glistens
> silvery like tiny mercury.

> Working to purity
> music and words and sweat.
> No tears.
> Forget tommorow.
> Let go the problems in time.

> Sun bleached cure
> the addiction does not hold me
> as the drugs
> human drugs
> create the sound.
> Saint Augustine night
> moon mother smiles.

> Catch the flow
> it may never be back again, though possible.
> Poetic form disintegrates
> quit cold turkey,
> so I can find what I have lost.
> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

> The facist doctors
> are no match for the
> old man with beads.
> Double digeridoo warble
> aboriginal soul hum.
> Sweat, blue meets red.
> Let it drop for peace of mind.

> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
> through the breeze...
> words about money float by.
> Hope springs eternal
> as long as the well ain't dry.

> -Will Dockery

> ----------------------------------------------

I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Will Dockery wrote:
>
> Behind The Forest

>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.
>> Forget tommorow.
>> Let go the problems in time.

>> Sun bleached cure
>> the addiction does not hold me
>> as the drugs
>> human drugs
>> create the sound.
>> Saint Augustine night
>> moon mother smiles.

>> Catch the flow
>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>> Poetic form disintegrates
>> quit cold turkey,
>> so I can find what I have lost.
>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>> The facist doctors
>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

Ha ha.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tommorow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The facist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

I do.

🙂

W-Dockery wrote:

> Behind The Forest

>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.
>> Forget tommorow.
>> Let go the problems in time.

>> Sun bleached cure
>> the addiction does not hold me
>> as the drugs
>> human drugs
>> create the sound.
>> Saint Augustine night
>> moon mother smiles.

>> Catch the flow
>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>> Poetic form disintegrates
>> quit cold turkey,
>> so I can find what I have lost.
>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>> The facist doctors
>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Quite cool.....

General-Zod wrote:

> W-Dockery wrote:

>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tommorow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The facist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Quite cool.....

Thanks again for reading and commenting, Zod.

🙂

Will Dockery wrote:

> General-Zod wrote:

>> Will Dockery wrote:

>>> Behind The Forest

>>>> Under the tent
>>>> can't describe this light.
>>>> Under the black base
>>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>>> The ink glistens
>>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>>> Working to purity
>>>> music and words and sweat.
>>>> No tears.
>>>> Forget tommorow.
>>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>>> Sun bleached cure
>>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>>> as the drugs
>>>> human drugs
>>>> create the sound.
>>>> Saint Augustine night
>>>> moon mother smiles.

>>>> Catch the flow
>>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>>> quit cold turkey,
>>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>>> The facist doctors
>>>> are no match for the
>>>> old man with beads.
>>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>>> through the breeze...
>>>> words about money float by.
>>>> Hope springs eternal
>>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>>> -Will Dockery

>>>> ----------------------------------------------

>>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

>> Quite cool.....

> Thanks again for reading and commenting, Zod.

> 🙂

Good afternoon, enjoying this fine day on the river bank with my friend Mike... he says tell you hello..!

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:

>> General-Zod wrote:

>>> Will Dockery wrote:

>>>> Behind The Forest

>>>>> Under the tent
>>>>> can't describe this light.
>>>>> Under the black base
>>>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>>>> The ink glistens
>>>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>>>> Working to purity
>>>>> music and words and sweat.
>>>>> No tears.
>>>>> Forget tommorow.
>>>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>>>> Sun bleached cure
>>>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>>>> as the drugs
>>>>> human drugs
>>>>> create the sound.
>>>>> Saint Augustine night
>>>>> moon mother smiles.

>>>>> Catch the flow
>>>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>>>> quit cold turkey,
>>>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>>>> The facist doctors
>>>>> are no match for the
>>>>> old man with beads.
>>>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>>>> through the breeze...
>>>>> words about money float by.
>>>>> Hope springs eternal
>>>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>>>> -Will Dockery

>>>>> ----------------------------------------------

>>>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>>>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

>>> Quite cool.....

>> Thanks again for reading and commenting, Zod.

>> 🙂

> Good afternoon, enjoying this fine day on the river bank with my friend Mike... he says tell you hello..!

Hello there, my friend, tell Mike hello for me.

🙂

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tommorow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The facist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

Yes I do.

🙂

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tommorow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The facist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

More like Arnold Horshack in need of a haircut.

🙂

Will Dockery wrote:
>
> Behind The Forest

>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.
>> Forget tommorow.
>> Let go the problems in time.

>> Sun bleached cure
>> the addiction does not hold me
>> as the drugs
>> human drugs
>> create the sound.
>> Saint Augustine night
>> moon mother smiles.

>> Catch the flow
>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>> Poetic form disintegrates
>> quit cold turkey,
>> so I can find what I have lost.
>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>> The facist doctors
>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Cool back story...

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tomorrow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The fascist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

More like Arnold Horshack.

🙂

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tomorrow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The fascist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

"Oh, Mr. Kotter..."

https://www.facebook.com/groups/105463832836304/permalink/5326840010698634/

🙂

Will Dockery wrote:
>
> Behind The Forest

>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.
>> Forget tomorrow.
>> Let go the problems in time.

>> Sun bleached cure
>> the addiction does not hold me
>> as the drugs
>> human drugs
>> create the sound.
>> Saint Augustine night
>> moon mother smiles.

>> Catch the flow
>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>> Poetic form disintegrates
>> quit cold turkey,
>> so I can find what I have lost.
>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>> The fascist doctors
>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Cool back story and photograph...!

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tomorrow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The fascist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

Yeah, right.

🙂

Will Dockery wrote:

> Behind The Forest

>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.
>> Forget tomorrow.
>> Let go the problems in time.

>> Sun bleached cure
>> the addiction does not hold me
>> as the drugs
>> human drugs
>> create the sound.
>> Saint Augustine night
>> moon mother smiles.

>> Catch the flow
>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>> Poetic form disintegrates
>> quit cold turkey,
>> so I can find what I have lost.
>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>> The fascist doctors
>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

A fave for a while now...

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tommorow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The facist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times

Yes, they were.

On Thursday, June 2, 2022 at 4:35:14 PM UTC-4, Zod wrote:
> Will Dockery wrote:
> >
> > Behind The Forest
>
> >> Under the tent
> >> can't describe this light.
> >> Under the black base
> >> are blue and red shadows.
> >> The ink glistens
> >> silvery like tiny mercury.
>
> >> Working to purity
> >> music and words and sweat.
> >> No tears.
> >> Forget tommorow.
> >> Let go the problems in time.
>
> >> Sun bleached cure
> >> the addiction does not hold me
> >> as the drugs
> >> human drugs
> >> create the sound.
> >> Saint Augustine night
> >> moon mother smiles.
>
> >> Catch the flow
> >> it may never be back again, though possible.
> >> Poetic form disintegrates
> >> quit cold turkey,
> >> so I can find what I have lost.
> >> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.
>
> >> The facist doctors
> >> are no match for the
> >> old man with beads.
> >> Double digeridoo warble
> >> aboriginal soul hum.
> >> Sweat, blue meets red.
> >> Let it drop for peace of mind.
>
> >> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
> >> through the breeze...
> >> words about money float by.
> >> Hope springs eternal
> >> as long as the well ain't dry.
>
> >> -Will Dockery
>
> >> ----------------------------------------------
>
> > I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.
>
> > https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?
>
> Ha ha.

Photos do exist.

Thanks for reading and commenting, Senetto and Pendragon.

🙂

Will Dockery wrote:
>
> Behind The Forest

>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.
>> Forget tomorrow.
>> Let go the problems in time.

>> Sun bleached cure
>> the addiction does not hold me
>> as the drugs
>> human drugs
>> create the sound.
>> Saint Augustine night
>> moon mother smiles.

>> Catch the flow
>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>> Poetic form disintegrates
>> quit cold turkey,
>> so I can find what I have lost.
>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>> The fascist doctors
>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

You captured the moment well...

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tomorrow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The fascist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> You captured the moment well...

Good evening, thanks.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tommorow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The facist doctors
>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

Well...

🙂

Will Dockery wrote:

> General-Zod wrote:

>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>
>>> Behind The Forest

>>>> Under the tent
>>>> can't describe this light.
>>>> Under the black base
>>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>>> The ink glistens
>>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>>> Working to purity
>>>> music and words and sweat.
>>>> No tears.
>>>> Forget tommorow.
>>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>>> Sun bleached cure
>>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>>> as the drugs
>>>> human drugs
>>>> create the sound.
>>>> Saint Augustine night
>>>> moon mother smiles.

>>>> Catch the flow
>>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>>> quit cold turkey,
>>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>>> The facist doctors
>>>> are no match for the
>>>> old man with beads.
>>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>>> through the breeze...
>>>> words about money float by.
>>>> Hope springs eternal
>>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>>> -Will Dockery

>>>> ----------------------------------------------

>>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

>> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

>> Ha ha.

> I do.

Ha ha... long time, many moons ago... ha ha.

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:

>> General-Zod wrote:

>>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>>
>>>> Behind The Forest

>>>>> Under the tent
>>>>> can't describe this light.
>>>>> Under the black base
>>>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>>>> The ink glistens
>>>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>>>> Working to purity
>>>>> music and words and sweat.
>>>>> No tears.
>>>>> Forget tommorow.
>>>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>>>> Sun bleached cure
>>>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>>>> as the drugs
>>>>> human drugs
>>>>> create the sound.
>>>>> Saint Augustine night
>>>>> moon mother smiles.

>>>>> Catch the flow
>>>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>>>> quit cold turkey,
>>>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>>>> The facist doctors
>>>>> are no match for the
>>>>> old man with beads.
>>>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>>>> through the breeze...
>>>>> words about money float by.
>>>>> Hope springs eternal
>>>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>>>> -Will Dockery

>>>>> ----------------------------------------------

>>>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>>>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

>>> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

>>> Ha ha.

>> I do.

> Ha ha... long time, many moons ago... ha ha.

Good evening, here's a photo from those days:

https://imgur.com/gallery/txagj3C