I got the love, love of the loveless.

What's the story morning glory? No, I'm not glub. I ain't even got the blues. It's just me, a little older and wiser. I'm happy being me. Smelling the way I do. My hairs have gone crazy, but that's also a lot to do with the rain. I think that I may have learned a thing, maybe even two.

I do love the love and I do posses the love of the loveless. I'm so in love with love that I can make myself lovesick. I do believe that this love that springs from within me is from a true and beautiful source. It's this love I must not confuse with lust and infatuation.

I am overwhelmed by beauty. Blinded by it's light. This is where the danger lies within. It's wrapped up with my vanity and can lead me down the wrong path. It can also lead me down the right path. I think it's a crime to not fully appreciate the beauty that surrounds us. It inspires us. It dares us to dream. It gives us hope.

Today we are given one more chance to recognize the beauty that inspires the love that surrounds my soul. As a new life begins we are able to perceive the beauty that is perpetually engulfing our every moment. It's days like today, fantastic, hot, sticky, wet, loud, grey and bright days that make me smile. There's a light being born at this very moment. May this be baby be welcomed by the love. May this baby, be the love. I can see the beauty, at least for today. I want to see this beauty more days.

Today I want to wish a great big warm and fuzzy love to my little Zadie Hope. I love you, and I cant wait to meet you. Thank you for reminding me of the beauty. I got the love. Love of the loveless.

IT'S IN YOUR EYES

The moment I see it, I know it will be true. I know that the secret does lie right in your eyes. It's sparkly, bewildering, and has that gaze that will look right through me. I know the look, but I haven't seen it in quite some time. Maybe I have never really seen it, but I am sure that I will know it when I do see it. I'm looking straight ahead. I have my eyes open wide. My heart is just looking for that secret to burst with joy. All I need is a spark in the dark. When you see me, just look at me, like I know you will. The rest is up to us. Let's make this spark glow brightly in the dark. Let's supernova a love that no one can deny. It will be a new light for the entire galaxy to see. Get yippee with glee.

STANDING ON MY OWN TWO FEET

You know I always write about you, even though I have never met you. Every time I write, I say I need you. I do, in most respects, but I am standing stronger on these feets of mine. My smile is growing bigger, and my heart is filling up with laughter. I know that I am getting better at being me. The boy you may have thought you knew, you probably don't. For this boy is becoming a man. It's taken a little longer than expected, by all. However, I think the best things come to those who wait. If that's true then I must be the best thing you've ever seen, cause I know you've been waiting indefinitely. Just stay tuned, keep singing along with me, and I know we'll find that happiness we so deserve. Smile much?

MISCHA AND THE IMPOSTOR

What's the dealio, yo? I mean, I'm a good guy, right? Why don't I find that girl? You know, that one. Sometimes is baffling. I see her, maybe. And she's with someone that she shouldn't be with. He's not that funny. Not so charming. Not even good looking.

So you sit across the bar from me. Stealing glances with every chance you get. Yeah, I see you looking, most likely cause you see me looking at you. You look like you belong on my arm. Surely you can see that you are clashing with his. Just be bold baby. Walk right over, whisper something in my ear. Drop me a note. Have the bartender send me a beer. Download the situationist app, and come freaking high five me.

You're killing me.

While I may have enjoyed these cat and mouse games in the past, these days they make me ill. Maybe I am over "the chase." It's never really worked out for me before, so forget it. YOu can chase me. That's why I am not getting up and walking over to you. Even though I can tell this is your first, maybe second date. There's no touching. Barely any eye contact between the two of you.

Maybe you thought this was your best option at the time. But look. I walked in. You caught my eye, and I know that I caught yours. You can do better. All you need to be is bold. I know what you're thinking. "Why is he not chasing me?"

I'm done with that. You make the first move. I guarantee you'll like what you find. I'm so sorry that you had to meet me now. I mean, a few weeks ago I would have walked right up to the both of you, and just introduced myself. However, that wouldn't have gotten me any farther than this, so what's the worth? It's no worth. If you're worth it, it'll happen. Somehow, someway. Right? That's what they say. I guess for now, I'll try and listen…

I'M JUST SO SILLY

I mean my heart is a silly thing. I too, my personality I guess you would call it, is rather giddy as well. I get lost in my emotions, everyday. Like this song, "I only have eyes for you" I get lost in that little do-wop sock-hop dream each time I hear it. I guess you can say that I'm a dreamer, but I am not the only one. I hope someday you will join me, and then perhaps we can live as one.

I dream about you. I picture you, and your many shades of hair color. We're laughing in the sun. Rolling in the clover. Just making the world sick with our stupid puppy love. It's a squeaky clean, super shiny, sunshine daydream. You play the star in which I play your counter. I don't call myself a star because really, you're the star baby. You always have been, and always will be.

I write about you. Most days, I write about you. How fantastically, effortlessly, wonderful that you are. If you hadn't figured that out just yet, keep reading. They say that all lovers must be blind, and I say they may be right. For I am blindly writing to you, and seriously do I even know you? I don't think so, but maybe you know me?

It doesn't really matter, if I know you or not. I mean, I'll die without you. However, until then, just dreaming about you, writing to you, and pretending that every love song was made for us, makes me believe. I want to walk you home. Please, let me hold your hand. I want to walk you home. You look so good to me, ooo-ooie…

EVERYDAY

I want to wake up, in the morning. I want to lay my swollen eyes upon thee. I want to nuzzle my face into your matte of hair. I want to kiss that cinnamon skin. I want to stroke the small of your back with my index finger and pinky. I want the sunlight to play on the wall. I want to lay in revery of your all mighty aura. I want to sleep inside a dream that's starring you and only you. I want to bring you water. Make breakfast in bed, then get something to eat. I want you inside me. I want to giggle with your glee. I want to make a break for the bathroom, only to return with leaps and bounds into the world we have created between the sheets. I want to talk boldly over bacon. I want to fry an egg on the heat that we generate. I drink coffee, black. You are the only sweetener I require.

JAZZ HAS MY HEART

I don't even know this girl. I've met her a few times at her shows. I don't know her.

I want to. I want to so bad. Her pictures make my heart drop to the bottom. She's so cool, it kills me. Effortlessly, she's got me. I don't even know how to correctly write this. I mean, I think I told her I was in love with her the other night. Her reply was, "don't say shit like that." :) I smiled for that was the best reply I could have heard from such a ridiculous claim. However, I believe it to be true. I'm really not sure. I'm crazy. I have so many flights of fancy that it drives me wild. I'm a hurricane. A tropical depression to be reckoned with. So if you like Pina Colada's and soft summer rain, I just might be your flame. I mean if we can swap out those colada's for some whiskey, then it's on. Or shit, even some black coffee will do. It doesn't really matter, for all I want is you. I have to talk to her. I want to ask her a million questions. I want to play with her hair, put feathers in my mine and war paint on my face. I want to gaze into those big bonny eyes and get lost forever, or at least for the moment. I could live a lifetime in my mind.

Are you cuckoo for cocoa pebbles? I'm surely cuckoo for you…

It was a rainy afternoon in Seattle when I first stumbled upon "BUD'S OLD JAZZ RECORDS." The scent in the air was old, dusty, and fantastic. Even my Grammie's apple pie's had never smelled so sweet. I got lost in that world for hours, which in turn got lost in my soul for my lifetime. Old jazz records make my heart swell, and young Jazz singers make it explode with fervor. This girl, that I don't even know, has got me. What she will do with this, I have no idea. Just to know that she exists is quite the thrill…

KEEPIN' IT CREEPY AT AUSTIN REGGAE FEST

The naysayers will say, it's not as good as it used to be. The tickets are too much and the bands aren't that good. Well, fuck you, I'm partying. After a long day of slinging cheese at M2 I was hot and tired. My flaca was not at work that day due to her snoozefest of a birthing class. My associate had taken her place. Guiseppe was in full form as we sipped frozen delights, and made our way to the festival with a nice irie meditation. The scene was young, and crowded. I expected as much, but still it was a little unpredictable. The air was warm and dirty. The dust had been shuffled enough to become airborne and tickle my olfactory senses as well as my sight. I closed my mouth. I needed liquid refreshment. The Front Row Chicano had to decided to accompany us on the last minute, and it was a welcome edition. Three is definitely creepier than two. Upon deciding on the king of beers, we made our way towards the stage into the crowd of kids, bohemians, ruffians, babies, stoners, and hookers? WTF

We pull up front left. You know, that's just where I go. There's not a blade of grass to speak of. We have reached the epicenter of dirt cloud we were so happily greeted with upon our arrival. Guiseppe then fires up the first jammer since the last.

"Jah nex band is from Kansas City, give et up!"

We laughed a little, but hey who are we? Just funny to me. One of the band members even put his hands over his face when the announcer called them out. Luckily, Guiseppe's little treat had caused the dust in the setting sun have a sort of ethereal quality. The world was golden, the band was good. They had the solid vibrations and irie meditations you need in reggae. I danced to their entire set. Jah, rastafari.

Here's where it starts to get creepy. Well, I say that although I had begun creepy. I was wearing dirty work clothes and the unicurl was definitely aloft. In that nature we began to scan. Makes moves. Hustle. Just get a little better look. Shit they're 12. Moving on.

Look. It's those two we saw on the way in. Let's go. Yes, standing in a port-o-let line trying to catch the eye of that someone you're looking for is a little creepy. So be it. Look over here dear. There you go. Hello. It's me again. My, my those eyes are spellbinding. I see you lookin'. Don't turn around. Well do, look at that tattoo.

It's a a good one. It's an image of a beautiful woman from the shoulders up embraced with death. They are holding each other close, just about to kiss. It's almost as intoxicating as the felonic form before me. Now that we had locked eyes, surely she was interested.

Yeah, there were three jockey's in between me and the triple crown, but I was not worried in the least. She had whispered something in the others ear while darting a longing glance right to that beating muscle pounding in my chest. The ladies go in to said port-o-let together and the jockey's in front of me are silly with glee. I think their silly was a little premature for two of them were in the bathroom when the girls came out of theirs. They say "bye" to the third jockey still standing in line, and make their way right past him. His mouth agape, his face dumbfounded. Not wanting to suffer the same fate, I decide to hold it.

I spot the vixens making their way through the crowd. I gave chase. Every step I am getting closer to that auburn hair and those sparkling baby blues. "excuse me" Left. "pardon me" Right. Straight ahead, I see my opportunity.

I pick up my pace to a fast walk. I reach out my left arm and grab hold of the loveliest arm in the crowd. She twirls around and those eyes and mine are locked in pure unfettered infatuation. Sparks, moonbeams, and little cartoon blue jays dance all around us. The camera pans out, spins, and turns in a circular motion keeping us close to the center. Just as I am about to speak, she gets snatched up. Literally. Some guy had seen her walking by, and I guess he knew her. For when he scooped her up, she gave a big hug and said some sort of pleasantry.

Fail.

I walk out of the crowd to find Guiseppe & The Front Row Chicano in mild hysterics. Fuck it, I say. I gotta pee…