Some say I tote some say I vote.
But I just say that I’m busy with my float.
Some do bounce while some do crouch,
If I hit the ground running I’m still floating around.
It’s not the float of my share register,
not the float of a beering brewer magistra.
Its not a walking wobble or menacing meander,
Its the float you do with you’ve light in your navitar.
Its not a float as in the sailing the sea,
its not the float as in a teabaggers tea.
Its not the float like the women in space,
not the way a vodka’s put into in a redbull vase.
Its just free of pressure, stress and strain,
the way we feel when we’ve won some game.
Its when my bodies not working hard,
and I hum and hum until it starts – no fart.
Cleared out those toxic woes,
the way we always have to go go goes.
Standing tall and standing straight,
It the way to start let me navigate.
Just stand there and wait wait wait.
clearing the mind takes twenty eight.
Bored, remember, start again,
this journey not ripe for those growning in.
Focus on your breath alright,
and that middle spot below navel height.
Tell me what comes up for you,
because we care, you should too.
Feeling hungry, wait it out,
this shall pass, its healing up.
Getting hot, that is great,
your getting prepared for lots of
hate,
mate,
rate,
and much debate.
There,
it always answers there,
now you can articulate the air,
and see all their there
so I say fair fair.
there there I care.
No need for a nightmare,
just buy me a pear.