Cuz Somewhere Along The Line I Forgot My Self

In the last three of four years, I have come to realize the metal of a man is not in so much what he earns, nor how his daily bread is spent, but rather in how much he stands up for his ideals and how well he abides by them. This book as the other two books released simultaneously, Might As Well Fly Away and Too Much/Not Enough, all speak to this point in one way or another. And whether it is standing up for the clinically depressed or speak out for the eternal spirit of the poet, each poem is written with it and only it as the focus of attention. And thus Nothing is left out of any of them. As a whole they speak to the vision, I have of a world not fettered by personal possessions, nor private notions of My This Your That.

Perhaps, they will speak to you, and ring a bell larger or small inside you that says: This Spirit I have inside me (that is yours not mine) is as noble and grand as any mountain and as pure as any spring. And it is my not only right but obligation to set it free!"

If this happens then the work and love that were "put into" the three books will not have been in vain.