It has been some time now since the last time I wrote purely in journal verse, so the day of reckoning has arrived, and these words have unfolded onto these pages. Poetry, is not a hobby, but a lifestyle a philosophy in action. Poetry is an extension of a poets mind, not just his mind, but also his consciousness, the essential spirit of his reality. So, that said, let it be considered the definition of pure poetry- or my opinion, as others would say. Many would claim other essential purposes of poetry, such as: Delivering a message of some sort, or a bleeding mass of emotional slush. I declare any that agree, hence forth be known as fools. Perhaps, just maybe my ass is put out for the beasts of literature to devour and I have sealed my fate with these words. Then again, I have said and done worse and continue to stay standing, so snap away. Dynamite and glass be the contents of my pockets along with cyanide pellets, a last resort measure I assure you. Quite strange, at times I feel an extreme urge to speak, and others times silence is all my lips are left with, a bit like being bipolar. Sure enough, I think I can count on museheart to mutter to herself that this idiot could never comprehend her illness- but my list of maladies frankly happens to belittle hers, and more alarming is that some of it is self generated for nothing other than random changes of direction. Ah, something just occurred to me: No, I am not very worried of the consequences of others reading this. [you know who you are ;) ] Angels in black are preparing interesting questions -hopefully. Our debates and feuds are so amusing and at times completely insane, other times frustrating along with annoying. Sun gods are ready to surprise, since they never keep the same pattern long- a good quality for this sort of spirit, and I always welcome new things to think of or be informed of. Recently, poets that know it have been inspired to grade and debug my verse, but they are slightly dull since they always deliver the same old farewell phrase. Then again, with my spelling and grammar, I can not be displeased with such occurrences. Well, I end this here, and wish my fellow writers much luck, many amazing in their numerous ways.