Grateful Dead

We don't need your steeenking HalloweenWe don't need you steeenking pumpkins We don't need no steeenking hobgoblins We especially don't need your, steenking Harvest Moon!

I think your comments are more often poetry.

Pay your respects to the vulturesFor they are your future Our fathers and mothers Have failed to release us Into the welcoming arms Of the amethyst deceivers.

Hey now, Happy 10-19-1974 !!! Can someone please post the poem about the Dead at winterland.....it was over one of the pictures of the October '74 run at Winterland in the book, The Official Book of the Deadheads........ Its a great little poem........ Thanks, Chris

If you've felt it, then you do not know love. If you've known it then you do not know love. If you've dreamt it then you do not know love. The state of my being is not love, it is not anything, for I am existing in a state of being, surrounded by these ideals. The animals know of love, for they surround each other, and protect their own. As humans, we are not capable of love, not until our dying days, when we are holding the hand of the person that we've spent our lives with, man or woman, can we understand what it is like to truly love someone. The sky holds the knowledge, the clouds hold the rain, the rain holds life, and with life comes love. You cannot teach or learn love. Relationships are prisons, one trapped within the other. Only when the birds are free to roam the sky's and sing their songs will they be happy, the feathers will fall to the earth where they will return, singing their love songs to each other to find a mate, to find the bird with the most attractive colors, the beautiful voice, the one with the alluring dance. I am a crow. I am black, I have seen death, I have seen life, my call is ruthless, yet I have no hope for love - I will return my feathers to the earth, when the earth will also be black, with my heart, and I will rejoice in the song of the winds, bringing me back home, to be reborn into a phoenix with an ember in my heart, a spark, a flame, in hopes to one day hear a song sung for me, until that day, I will fly through the ash with my black feathers, hoping to hear the words again ~ Love

My girlfriend does this thing whereshe bites her own tongue, and hard which results in her jaw ......................................dropping and jutting forward. ......................................This radical countenance shift ......................................is commonly accompanied by ......................................a sonic phenomena that mixes ......................................the onset of a grunt with ......................................the departure of a squeal. ......................................It's the happiest sound I know, so I call the whole thing her monkey face. A few days ago I did a bad thing. We were talking about her monkey face when I added an adjective—ugly— which I promptly revised into distorted but she's pretty quick about these things. After she nailed me for the lingual slip we laughed about it, which was good since we had both been ready an hour before to call an end to the relationship. We had forgotten for a time how to listen. Over the next several days I considered the inquietude of modifiers and realized I never got to finish: "when compared to conventional notions of truth and beauty." But these are culture bound contradictions; I get to experience Aeden's love unchained. Her feral ferocity incites my primate primal; her monkey face the most beautiful I know.

Intense sunlightstreaming through a bulb of red nectar reacts laser-like with the thrumming green wings of a hummingbird about to dine. But is this moment manufactured?

Andy, it's been a while?

When it's perfectPerfectly perfect Perfectly perfectly clear That's how I know I can trust it; When it's perfect Perfectly perfect, That's how I know it is You; And I open up the door. Stand up tall, and Let it all go By. Take a stand Make a stand And hold your ground. Spiritual warrior In a war in which You have no part But impartial observer. For no reason, do Love, for there is no reason to Love. Now it is perfect Perfectly perfect Perfectly perfectly clear Time to relax It is in good hands The rule of Love has cut a path shown a way endured, when all else fell away. It's the perfect The perfectly perfect The perfectly perfectly clear Which is all that remains. It's perfect It's perfectly perfect It's perfectly perfectly clear No more doors or walls or celings or floors It's perfectly clear We are all brothers and sisters from here.

Bob Marley Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights Get up, stand up, don't give up the fight Preacher man don't tell me Heaven is under the earth I know you don't know What life is really worth It's not all that glitters is gold Half the story has never been told So now you see the light Stand up for your rights Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights Get up, stand up, don't give up the fight Most people think Great good will come from the skies Take away everything And make everybody feel high But if you know what life is worth You would look for yours on earth And now you've seen the light You stand up for your rights Get up, stand up (yeah, yeah) Stand up for your rights (oh) Get up, stand up (get up stand up) Don't give up the fight (life is your right) Get up stand up (so we can't give up the fight) Stand up for your right (lord lord) Get up, stand up (people struggling on) Don't give up the fight (yeah) We're sick and tired of your ism-schism game To die and go to heaven in Jesus' name We know and understand Almighty God is a living man You can fool some people sometimes But you can't fool all the people all the time And now we've seen the light (What you gonna do) We gonna stand up for our rights Get up, stand up Stand up for you rights Get up, stand up Stand up for your rights Get up, stand up Stand up for your rights Get up, stand up Don't give up the fight