Energeticly, speaking

two months and doing my best not to count,
the inbetween carries onward...

poems for the space:

Chapter 33.
Talk about surrendering,
we are the
dwellers on the threshold,
reality has surpassed fiction,
whats alive to you, is
alive in me,
so what is so kind,
in the revolution of radical mind,
staying a'float,
fluid like the rivers
which carve themselves
into the life we reap
through patterns and thoughts
we may or mat not
bring in to existence,
breathe in  to existence,
my bones thrive with trust,
while the mind learns,
to   adjust,
all    the   while,
our souls, go on,
igniting to spark,
the release from madness,
combustion of passion,
the flame that dances
in the night,
the revolution,
of the unspoken light,
which cradles     all        love...
you know,      that   FEELing,
you would,
do    any   thing   for.
__


Chapter 35.
It is rather sacred
to create fire
each night,
warming in its glow,
dancing with our shadows,
accepting the duality
within,    allowing the chaos,
to dance it's own dance,
this is where my free will,
lies,
through managing my own,
madness,
bag of stones,
My story,
i tell myself,
and the one i create, each day.
Mastering existence, is some feat!
But what else is one to do,
my spirit is A LIVE
and well,    i will not extinguish
that for some security,
for some illusion of  freedom from fear,
following the set path, is
Assumed, while all the other paths
go on wishing for a Soul's Trust,
To live in revolution
takes a strong heart
and a stubborn, radiKal mind,
Make things different,
by Doing things different,
Alternative actions,
for a sustainable relationship,
some really nice,  psychadelic rock
Elemental atmosphere,
being nurtured by Nature.
__

Chapter 37.
Row your boat,
through the tides of time,
light your rocket,
and jump right on,
fly up And up until,
your bones adjust
to the atmosphere,
let them glow
let them shine
the tiny day dreams,
in the love, corner
of your mind..
Grab the bull by the balls,
tell 'Em you want freedom,
or nothiN' at all,
promise to yourself
the fanciest love you can
create, to the most
radikal, sustainable
lifestyle you can make
relax in the after-math,
of your luck & your faith,
remember your open heart
when the lines become blurred,
and you Miss the Wholey, part
where lemons melt like Lemon Drops,
with a piece of cake, on a walk in the park,
acceptance, of the miraculous,
a, reckon of your own Righteous, Bliss,
 Breathing deeply through rapids,
and white caps,
this is some, SEA,
to gather your lasting, Gasp.
___

Chapter 38.
Maybe we will hit 40
and call it book,
roasted notes,
from the designated lines,
of power and passion,
and how they both must,
transcend until we begin,
to recognize the sacred,
in the present,
the ritual within the mundane,
the love within
the pain,
and the spirit, begging
to be freed from shame,
sometimes the moon, feels right
and the tides, coincide,
what once was Out,
becomes the inside,
my memories and instincts
are where Eyes Find,
the supernatural and Power of mind,
freedom lies,
it indeed does seem,
In the Tall Grass,
and what I choose, to See,
as a magiKal, well,
as I make Believe,
indeed my heart,
races to a different beat,
and all i know, is
what I feel.
__

Chapter 39.
Imagine counting to 40,
with your eyes, closed,
and all see is what
you admit, to not know
remember this with your
open prose, what you
feel inside, will only grow,
feel this, through
all tides and curves,
your path is grateful for your,
fire you fuel, the spirit within,
like you do the love about,
trees, and about plants,
all living creatures, on this
FLoating Globe of Trust and Luck,
write a book,
drive a truck,
count your blessings
and reveal yourself,
unto yourself,
reflection through acception,
of all matters,
of space and paradox,
my riddle knows what my riddle knows best,
sometimes are hard
and the others are what they are,
tread lightly,
and release what wants,
to depart,
__

back in the USA, back in the gauntlet

some poems to ease my minD:

rain drops
splatter about me
while "sunspots" wail
behind me,
sometimes eye get so
excited, eye could just go,
sprinting through the field,
swinging and dancing on
mama Earths" floor
We're DOING IT
We're MAKING IT
I'd shout to the trees,
 the plants, the sky
-About Beauty and the world,
life being what it is
And our dreams, outplaying
before our Very Eyes
creating structures with
wood from the forest floor,
planting seeds, crafting pots,
My hands were made to
feel the Earth, build dreams,
write stories, paint feelings,
draw shapes, heal trauma,
caress animals, hold space
to be grateful in action
Harness optimism, cradle passion,
manifest everything
you think.
bodies for feeling
our roots sprawling
through the planet,
we    call      home.


__


Cutting edge,    history,    here.
Every morning, it happens again,
usually confronted,  all ways present,
waking up from dreams
where everything is E-Z,
with no choices dividing space
or matter,  the way our
eyes ripple time,
the way our thoughts,
reap patterns,
we make our own Mazes,
here, where my breath
is measured in
Moments, declared, actuely,
inside the Box you're
raised in, by the
shadows that made you,
into the light you
are today.
after you realize,
there is something
to realize,
recognition caught in
slow motion, calling upon
and beckoning after thoughts,
relying all the while
on the Universe to be
the, Universe, one who
makes everything, be
exactly as, it, shall, Be
the kind of Magic,
you don't need to See
to      believe!

__

dream boats,
rocky isles,
mission completed,
and no one for miles.
waking up to
fall back asleep,
asking for more,
requiring less,
today is the day
my hands meet their maker,
the ground, where roots sprawl,
into the Dust,
you call home.
remember?
you were made for this place,
See you in the fields.
__

THIS RULES

CLICK HERE TO LISSEN

the sun revealed only as it Set.

how having answers will lead us no-where but behind our selves. looking into the back of our minds, and forgetting why or how we got there. And how believing in what we want, will bring us what we may or may not see accordingly, Some way, this will become clear, some how, it will make sense, IF we so decide, to fit the pieces in our mind, so appropriately, and How we must be, brave and act confidently, as IF we had a clue, or an answer or a day to stay a way from everything that distracts us and only our Cells to entertain us. Oh Joy, formidable, my smile evades my utmost, truth of knowing nothing, but what is good for Eye. I believe in Wholeness, and living independently of a Substance's caress. Wondering wizards, can reveal and open what the last man lost, and yet the reasons to live are infinite, in the reckon, or momentum within a hope, so dear, Gratitude and Trust, are holes in a fabric so clear, time and distance, is Nothin', compared to this depth of Intuition! Lovely afterthoughts, from a intimate discussion, of dis-ease, and underlying unknown, theories, which usually prevail through the colors we throw on to paper, Yes YEs YES indeed i will call out to the faeries in the trees, and the water lilly's which listen to me, because my ears remain holy, to the wind arousing about this present Moment, wrapped up and put on display, like a bible or a torah, some story which made the rest fall down with no personal allegory, What a whimper, of tales and lizards, which usually portray the invincible, the abominable, and absolute, for this, Laughable and worthy of compassion, we all are, after all, if the world, overflowed with empathy, we may all be twisted into one another, but at least we would, Understand, and maybe point less fingers, and feel what lingers, inside, underneath our utmost Fears, and beneath the flesh hovering over our bones, we might just know, what it is like, to have a sensE, of self, love, and purposE.

purpose and the need for everything

some how we all ways end up back here or there or any where we wonder and wonder until the blind dissolve into the deaf and spent how do we get here, and all ways questions for more what IS IT about the questions which cease to have an end is it the cycle which must surpass or the InfinitE which constantly encases us? The birth of language, enabled us to process aloud and the birth of theory allowed us to choose a path for me and a path for you, like a Ferris-wheel that never goes around more than once they paths just kept diverging, our circle kept evolving, the natural cycle for a daydream of the ripe and ready ones, like a fruit and nut, which grow for their Own good, and for benefit of All, we can say, thank you for this pristine, beauty enveloping our madness within, call it what you MAY, this chaos is only one of Many. A rapid growth of individualism collides with Earth's ability to Provide, and so we all ways needed more than enough and now, we have more than we could ever need, and some starve, while others, overflow, and the balance of this and that, tipped over, years ago, centuries and decades.. so, surely, some-day soon, we will reach the finish line, of this theory of drawing lines, and boxes, around, every possibility of probability and fact-izing every theory, the mix and match of dream and fact, oh how the matrix has run amok, and offered that, in its Own, way, it provides what it needs, to conquer and create. The ability to think bigger than our Selves, is alive and well, i think we will have a garden, and some animals, the way we choose will be up to the truth which transcends the Mes and Yous.

Probable Magic on Days full of Potential

"2.7.2012."
On Distance, and how we will
skip A patternS stone, to Watch
The ripples of the Buoyant & relative.
On moments, and how they Pass,
by with a, distortionS Glow,
-of, everything we will Never-Know,,
Because SUM, things Exist Regard-less
of our attempts at Measurement,
The Fabric of Space & Time, and
How it fluctuates with our Energies,
Colliding with the Energies,
we Believe to be ENcricling,
a Torus of Expounding FLow,
Love and Fear, of Humans and Earth,
the cosmos, give birth, to,
Lightness & to darkness,
Blackholes eat up information &
display it on their, surface, projecting
it into "empty" space, One
thousand, Light Years Away, a hologram
of Casted light & shadows, to
create a Reality as Binding as the
one, we Inhale&exhale, like we do,
codify,
our findings...
____

February 7, 2012
Rhythm, smacking fragments, refracting,
sweet sweet nothings, for days,
after & so i will wish you three times,
after, chalices switch containments,
*- & somehow, all-ways, ending up,
back at the beginning of the same,
place you find yourself in, time after
Dingos Time, tell us to go, or we wont
we like to Riddle our Lucks like we do,
Our, Pals, some, Ripple AND SO, ME, ROll,
Onward, leaving disaster to reap
within, another, regardless, matter
for the blind and disillusioned,
fancy foreigners allways at bay,
for wholey breaths, we hold long
stares to connect, the fever of a Crow's Kneck,
Slit and gutted for the Crowds
respect, Loose definity that brings
me nowhere near, home or near
the checker patterned mishap of polaroids,
reflecting lights and shadows,
like a day dream caught on a Wire, inbetween
the seams of a projected "2Dimensional Screen,
filled with all the bull
shit & information,
you've discovered over the years
of intertwining,
Lust and carnivorous, decipher-us,
manifestations, of doubt and fear could
be the only thing that landed us,
here from, time & time again,
memory, disappears.
___

Today is February 19, 2012
Time has passed and lessons have been,
Leant, to the spaces in*between these
Intuitive- day dreams, which bring me
about as Much peace, as a Hole
IN my ribbon, and ATleast it is not,
my Heart, so after all it is Gratitude, and not,
destiny or fortitude which fulfills,
the misery of a probable solitude, you will
never have, a fruit, without a, Tree,
This TIme, i will have to Let Go
of Being Alone and the manager in my Mind,
will just have to ChalkTHEtube and leave
me to be Present to what i am offered & Not,
what a You Created, but -for What we Experience,
and -inTurn Release Through,
layers of Dimensional Layers of Expression,
you are NOT alone, this TIME, not
only are the polarities BEside YOU, but INside
and the construct your living is a Metaphor,
whether your dreaming,
begins or ends with or with out
your bones aligning
and if EYE could promise you One thing,
it would be a Light at the End of
your tunnel of
Spinning Energy,
turns to lightNess
when you allow your soul to Blossom
into the Magic of what Might IS,
and how your most likely exactly where,
you ought'A be, Truss PLUS Truss
equals a. whole. big. Universe.

...sometimes, i wake up,
and i don't think ALL.
(others).
___

2/20/2012
Coughing to Release,
Neurosis to Complete,
the bullshit of you
meshed with the bullshit of Me,
Somethings are worth repeating,
while others are better,
left, for the dogs to Retrieve,
like the Bones we synchronize
into motion, because our Homes,
are still far away from
the Notion that we are aLL,
playing some sort of Game,
here. Whether we Like It or Not,
The Rules are there, like
the Windows on Our Walls and the
rocks at the bottom of the River,
Know one thing too well, and that is the Swell,
of the Tides, Carried, by the passion of Minds,
stories turned in Lives,
the mis&hap, of a Metaphor
that saves us from the finish
Line, and instead we wind Up,
back at the beginning,
a breaths away from the end.
______
2.20.2012
i shall not get used to It.
I shall not forget, everythings
fluctuating Way of Ultimatums Decays
But Regardless, sometimes, i Wake up,
to Blue Sky, Which usually
Creates a Returned Glimmer In my Eye,
and yet someHow the Power of Mind
can rip Holes and Leap Through
Windows of Time,
One thing we are Not Limited to is Ways,
and how they're endless,
Destiny and a secret we know ALL,
to,well, to tell, about the hopping,
from maps to Shells, being Large and
shrinking unto the Resolution that the
World/Show
Must Go, On.
- and SomeHow we Allways arrive,
back to what we Know.

somethin' else

yes inDEED

Tapping Through RHythms, to Bring home, Precision

February First, 20-12.
Yet it feels like Spring & it feels like, Home.
Moments of Still Air, Meshed with a Deja-Vu-
Realm, The kind of Afternoon tea, that you left
in the Kiln, too long for the Shattered
remnants to remain whole-Y, since this was your
Destiny & that was your Fallacy, & how we'd surelY,
be starven, without the BEE Colony,
who deeds a dozen duals, reminds me of
the HIStory of Fools,
the ones they told us about in
Grade-School,
when our parents shut our eyes & told us
HOW- to- Do,
& besides the lucky sprouts that grew Out, with
no Doubt; the most grounded roots
of Self Sufficient Troops.
Loneliness was only a Battle for the
Homes And Kids,
& not that you're alone, with,
This,
we can surcease, the, paralysis,
quite the minD, allowing your SOUL to
exist...
No Master &
No Subordinate,
Equal parallels withOUT distortion,
Only intuitive breaths of Miraculous
Proportion,
the only type of dream,
never recorded.
_

Today is February Second,
here we are again,
The shift has gone and Twisted Us
as it Does, Pretend
your now is ALL; and the rest indeed, SHall,
pass, back & check forth, skipping spaces
without a Wall, surrounding them -ON,
-In, -Around,
the slip-Slop of a Proposition-
Mind-Hop, & wherever we go,
we allways forget that the///...
The idea of surceasing Intrigues Me,
The daily habits that Decay Me, and yet the Mind
Regards & discards like a Hippo Howling
Ricochets, that seem to be Following,
or IS IT leading?
Eyes a line & paths intertwine,
distance and space
of what a Love could CreatE,
and regardless, of the voices in my Head,
eye am residing in this Here, Gratitude
of what connects my Atoms -to WholeNess.
_

February Three, 2012.
Time for Our Cells to Mishap & align,
for the Rhythms and Rhymes,
we come back home,
only to remember Why we ever Left.
The conversations that Remains in Your Head,
Will only surcease when you Leave Your Head,
& you can write and write,
Until you feel the thought is Dead,
In which, Case the Sun Will Shine
& you shall Awaken to the Land,
in-between, what makes Sense.
Because this world began,
a very long time ago
and the patterns Reap All The Same,
after-aLL, it is a Cyclical Type of Game.
The single Connection between a Symbol & a
Chance can Reveal how Identity Links to,
Happenstance, & with one small Blunder of Wonder,
The portal of Thought sucks all that IS,
into its tunnel of All That Is & suddenly,
the Tic Toc of the Clock, opens and the archaic level
of meaning, is now, Proportioned,
though all Deeds and Notions,
Through the Nature of Phenomenon,
we reckon and suppose,
& it is these two Acts,
which intimately connect
our cells to ALL -we don't know.
_

uterus water

Lyrical Wonders of Colossal Dream-games

1.27.2012
Sink a little further,
remind me if you get There,
Sink a little deeper,
remind me how i got Here,
Float up OR Dive In, regardless
of the, imposed-proposition
& formulations of direction;
Our cellular truth
of the Macro and Mi'nute,
Hold out to prove,
the destiny of thy HolyOne,
reflected in: you & everyone, you Know,
beckon to show
-what gives & goes,
reprieves & bestows,
the lives & minds of pharaohs,
"Man's Pristine Origins"
& how we've dearly Lost Touch,
with beloved Intention,
seems it is only under,
Absolute Condition,
will these
Origins become Restorative,
As our Eyes Align with the Times,
alongside the edge of an,
Abyss, a being can Only Sync
Into Mind, pondering their
Purpose, as a Human-Race,
regardLESS, of the daily-Days,
the essence of humility,
collides with Infinity,
launched by the faith of the
Angel's Ray.
_

1/29/12

If this paper or flossy Strips Decide to-
Work, than eye will let you go IN the due Time,
we call, "see-ya-nevers"- though our Mind Skips
into patterns we call, "home" -unless it is
Gone -Inwhich case, A jump is not Only Right,
but it is Ought'A
and if WE, than, WE-
skip- A- Beat- &
wash your feet
with the Nettles we harvested
that one day in the Wild,
when we ran like
the Naked bodies we Lend
to the Woods, to sync
Life with Life, like we knew we Could,
only a dream a way & soon we shall Say,
Nothing At All,
allowing our Space to, dissolve/...

& i suppose it does WORK -like a snap head-
Knee-jerk, faerie-catchin & min-Twerps,
nothing short of Solitude & nothing Over our
Mission, to Explore our World,
they never told us about,
the gods and ancients
that sculpted
& Depicted what they thought,
and how they dreamt just like we Dream,
the differences IS far, but IN-between,
Mad like a day Dream,
running a'mok through your Day seams;
windows of vision
coalescing to lesson
the Minute
in destined & fortitude.
Some may call it,
Moral Fiber (that twist & shout like the
rhythms we have *here)
WHILE, other prefer to name it,
True Grit,
and regardless of our motions,
this rhyme remains, in Motion,
for our water is always, Flowing,
I'm not Stuck,
but, Merely Glowing,
like that story the Archs told
about Mary & her notion,
surely, oh, shirley, you remember to
Let- Go - And -
that one Thought ran
so deeply a'mok, we actually,
DID lose our-selves
&-so, began, the Twisted Story!
(of heaven & hell).
_

Today: January 30, 2012
and it's sorta silly,
How the patterns Reap, RegardLess,
of who we may (think) we may BE,
Today or Tomorrow,
the thought is Full,
but the Idea is emptY,
M'dearest Shirley,
eye write you adjacent my cells,
so these lines may be dreamy,
and though the times of Smoky exhales,
may make us dreary,
these rhythms and rhymes sEEm,
to -complete- me*
nothing being everything///
Poles Switch
And minds, Flip,
the Flop, they Thought, could-Save,
Their Knots, revolved so Tightly around
their, soul
Well/well/WELL how will we become our OWN bestFriends
on the days when our egoS slip in & out of these
Layers of Dimensional Being, as IF we Were
"the fruit that ate itself" & our fears
& hopes & doubts & knows all add up
to our very own Sum of Things,
Equally Nothing & Everybody is A,
Sum (of) Bodies,
Unless (o'course) there was NO-body
to play their Game,
so dear Shirley, Swing me around,
WHY- DONT-CHA,
sweep me up and twist & shout,
your game is MY game,
so long as we're Rhyming,
Our Destiny
with What we seem-to-be Forgetting,
a long Lost Fantasy,
never could exist
with out the BEEs!
_

1/31/2012
Here is to not Forgetting, why we
Are, and How we will,
Get There!
Some, days, we wake Up and its Like
nothing -not even the AIR could bring
us down -not todaY when our Blood
sheds accordingly,
into the dirt,
escorting, thee...
into the Labyrinth in-Side
This ALL.
Like a day-Dream, Dissolved into
Thin Air, when a butterfly dances & we forget
that we ever had (to) -Care
Of laughter & how it will most definitely Cure Us.
Bones may Falter,
in the realM of the Lost,
but In-between Indecision,
there lies a Trust,
the mad and the Miraculous
are cuddling like two babes
apart in a whole,
and how the worlds really is,
just a BIG-littuhl-Girl,
so they jam and so they sing, dreamiN
a Vision they are soon -to See,
oh m'darlin how our wonders Are,
aLive and Well, and this Flesh is Part
of this- Miracle,
waters and mountains, prairies and fountains,
dragons secrets and faeries follows,
a wondrous story of the time in the Hollows;
we can write it all down
&-rinse it all off,
the water is Blessed,
and that is Enough.
_

katty shak of lovE

tap-tap*s delighT

January 18, in faded purple skirpie on
the palm of my left hanD.
ROund"d thoughts on an early Eve with Isaac&
a fuzzyMind, The most perfect shade of blue for
this triangle soul of Positive Negative charges,
Windows of sandy dunescuddled by MOONy&her blue
shine, day, Sky Shadows Lanes Rhythms Rhymes,
Cow boy Trains Leading me to Flowers -that-Sing, my
Most dreamy melodies of -time -illustrating,
a spiral of Hope& a spiral of doubT, duality for
the simple splums in us aLL, Our-stretched-arms,
lead us toward the sun, freedom & sense with no walls,
but tents and sticks, connected for Purpose, United
in destined solitude, together, invested fleshes fester
with the squares of patterns we call: Home, doors-within-
doors, somehow weALLways needed: More, & now the wells
are drying up with stones rising -UP, like a faeries
solution to help, and eye sense i am not alone, as per
usual as brain begins to drone, one-eye-fades,
while the other: Falls-In, the intertwining shape-
shifters of color and de(v)finity, coalesce to-feel
the, Infinity in-their possibility -of-
Projections, -something we know ALLtooWell,
a-flowers-Connection to, a, bow&string, of-affection,
one-spiral's swirl, is anothers', LessoN.
_

January 19?! blank-palms leave me, gasping
for: air and, wondering, How-Eye-got,
anywhere near: HeaR, like a Lion's Mane,
as a bearded dragon, spits-it's-effable-
fire, dressed in: draG; What-was-One
faeire's, dayDream, was-tainted through-our
NightSchemes, with dark Outlines & pivotal-
patterns, reminding me of points-left-
behind, Like: a sailor's kneck, Wrapped-
in-Twine; 3 rocks t'have-your way-With,
and four elements t'surrender-your
essence- to, or-your-pickleSandwhich,
close-Ups of Sour-Disasters wrapped-
up and put-on-display, to-Your
very-purpose you created-that 1-Day,
the stars never stopped glowing,
we only stopped watching,
you are fluid to me- so i am who
i am and nothiN, so Great
as a Grapefruit on
your-thumb.

PowerLines Like TheseTimes

Words for Combusting Thought
Entropic Showdowns, on has Fought,
Skinny Branches yearning for Us,
to remember, what we forgot,
A day that reaps through shades of Gray,
White-light destined leads another way,
Distance Requested & destruction connected,
to EVERY*BIT, under this-same-sky,
Floating into, a KIND RHYTHM,
Like a clear & rotating, Prism,
Following footsteps, to forget there, Isn'T,
A Right or Wrong Way, only Endless Ways&Rays,
For shining through, Billowing about,
Like shadow casting, with-Out,
a spec of dust, pervading (now).
Ancient Feelings and Impulses permeating All Moments,
It is Their Momentum,
breeding our Passions and Creations,
Sandy Skin with Galactic Aspirations,
SyncinG Souls with Harmony into, Completion,
The Cherry Tree became Real,
and the rest is HistorY,
Going out into the world,
Radiating Love & GLory,
The WANT to be Well, Angel's Lissen'N,
The seeping power, of a Spiral Shell,
falling-towards-the-center of the Earth,
Heaven-meshes-Hell,
and suddenly, the window Opens,
the Eye Peers Through,
the veil is Lifted and we feel, what we-Knew,
we Spin the Earth & the Earth spins, You,
Picking flowers to touch the dirt,
dreaming on to remember the Birth,
Crossing bridges and Climbing rocks,
time proceeds with No Tic, or Toc,
Only the sounds of our Souls,
Heading Onward, Syncing Soil,
Beneath these Toes.

Our Field

more.



Wishing for a black hole to make us feel better,
the day after, we write letters,
to dissolve into the THIN AIR, as if THEY did,
and as IF they Would,
one thing goes rolling, and the rest
is mis-understood,
and the souls are more bound than EVER,
This time has begun, and our reluctance,
will only shatter,
the force of this Pattern,
the Power of this Planet,
And how i will dream up a tree,
a pile of dirt i can sink my feet,
into while i sweat my history,
into the earth's body,
for her to remember and me to forget,
to remember to allow,
this body to be aligned,
with this energy, so attuned and Fine,
a mass paradox is encasing our Minds,
but only WE can break these cycles,
by emanating the love we know,
over the pain we feel,
to prove our fucking twisted selves,
RIGHT for Once,
for wrong for Never,
creating a Way for this AND THAT to
separate themselves into
boxes with nothing but shadows,
cast, like creating your very OWN
cave to never see Beyond.
This will be more than a test,
it will be an entropic mess,
for our minds to contest,
as the energies pour out of these,
entities, these barriers may seem
real, but they were made,
and so were WE.
so let us grab on the that lasting ounce
of GUT AND PASSION AND
STRENGTH AND TRUST,
to prevail our good spirits
to the angels among, Us.
After ALL, we are ONLY,
and this planet is anything but Lonely.