and from the bending branches of toil outside

I stop, wondering at the door.

It leads past my dreams

and stops upon a friendly forehead

kissed by lips, with love.

You, your smiling face that has

warmed my torturted fingers

burnt by too muc sun.

Your gentle eyes, which fly past oblivion

to undiscovered distances of the soul

and caress their waking branches,

and, of two delicate fingers, pointing out a path

leading ahead of the moments now

but behind all forevers.

The wind warms me, and I must retreat

from hazy dreams, to realities and rememberances

that this poem is a gift for a birthday girl.

So, do not dispair my dear,

all is not lost. It can’t be…

For all is not found… yet.

in this hour of time

where space is

but a dream.

I whisper,

I love you

silently, in hopes

of a tomorrow.

1967 during Watts Riots

in this hour of time

where space is but a dream

I whisper,

I love you silently,

in hopes of a tomorrow.

Two days ago I opened up a couple of emails and people who have lived their lives in the film business have decided to throw in the towel. Both had good reasons, both have had great careers here.

Artist need to ban together. Just because we’re mature does that mean we’re past being hip. Most of the people today who think they’re hip, don’t have a clue. Cool comes from within. It’s style. It’s class. It’s not you’re old clothing, and a “spit in your face” attitude.

Style goes on forever. Hip changes like the wind.

It took me 60 years, and too many drinks, cigarettes, drugs (prescription and non), physiology, philosophy and don’t forget psychology to figure out where we all went wrong. I don’t mean me, I don’t me a certain generation, I mean all of us. All of those who have lived passed the age of 21, and have at any time of their lives had the right to stand up for what we believe in.

Madison Avenue sold it to us, and we bought it. We were eager to buy it.

We’ve become a Lobster tail and artichoke heart world. We don’t want to work for it. We want it now. It started with the idea of TV dinners, because it was more important to watch the all important CBS eye than to speak with one another, or take the time to really cook a meal. We needed more time, and for what, so we could have more time to do nothing. To have more toys, so we can celebrate the things that Madison Avenue told us we needed.

We argue who’s right and who’s wrong. To heck with the Democrats. Down with all Republicans. But we don’t take a moment to look at ourselves. It’s always the other guys fault. We always have “them” to blame.

Well, when was the last time you took a moment and ate the whole artichoke, or savored every last bite of the lobster. And if your answer is “well, I only like the tail”, did you take the time to make “lobster bisque with the rest?

Charity starts at home, and so does forgiveness. Forgive yourself for what’s past, but take control of your future. It’s your fault. Now accept it, and move on.

Use less, and someday you might find it will become more for everyone.

-Mike, Webmaster