Pay Me For My Work, But I

Ridicule Has Historically Proven Itself A Rickety Fence For Great Ideas.

The Illusion Is We Are Only Physical.

Looking Up And Out, How Can We Not Respect This Ever-vigilant Cognizance That Distinguishes Us: The Capability To Envision, To Dream, And To Invent? The Ability To Ponder Ourselves? And Be Aware Of Our Existence On The Outer Arm Of A Spiral Galaxy In An Immeasurable Ocean Of Stars? Cognizance Is Our Crest.

I Am Sacred When You Love Me. I Am Your Sanctuary, You Are Mine.

Poetry Is Our Heart, Our Spirit, Our Soul. Call It Whatever; Without It, Everything Else Is Nothing But Hardware.