Andrea Gerak

 Which road?
Which way?
I am at the crossroads again...so soon...Which way?
Turn left ...or right?
Go back....or chase the head light?

A man can spend all his life... asking question after question at crossroads...
But the questions are always the same...
Am I a player...Was I ever a player in this game...and what is this game?
Invisible crosses on the shoulders...and the soul manoeuvring ball and chain?

Let me shed and throw away...
All that is excess baggage and just gets in the way...
clouding my heart...
fogging my eyes...
losing truth among excuses and lies....

Exactly what are you searching for?
"Something truer for sure...
Will you be the one...or is this also another wrong door?

What lies beyond tonight?
What waits beyond today?
Are there horizons waiting on me?
Or is it best to embrace compromise...and stay? 
 
Can you not be truer than the true I know?
“Dear Life…What is, is and that’s how it sometimes flow”

hi there=) how are you? just wanted to say hello and thank you for your friendship=) hope you have a lovely week=)  

Goood deal! We're now friends on Myspace!!  I appreciate that and hope you enjoyed the music on my page!!  http://www.mrfrizo.com

hey great music :)

In a spirit free from economical calculations and political power games, find the inspiration, the vision and the strength to meet life in a creative sustaining way

"With my music, I create change" Fela Kuti

Thank you so much Andrea, your voice is a gift from God, have an incredible weekend~~

 In the corner of his garden, there's a patch he used to keep
All to himself, to allow nature to creep
There are no trimmed edges
or prim, proper hedges
He left his earth still and alone
Allowed the forces of nature to roam
He said that you don't always have to be tidy and neat
Just watch the beauty of opportunity grow at your feet
He said just watch the earth produce its own glory
And I watched...and held on to his story
My grandad was right
Add water and light
Behold the sight
There are poppies and flowering weeds
Buttercups and oat coloured reeds
Daisies gingerly lift their heads
Dandelions roar from muddy beds
Purple thistles and strange grasses
Colours that alight and ignite masses
Dark ferns and heathers
Dandelion clock feathers
Birds foot trefoil, a four leafed clover
My grandad's story is not over
He may have gone, I may have cried
But the beauty he predicted never died

Much love to you from Nashville

..Köszönöm Andrea!

After you've finished here, you may like to hear this poem, & some songs, on myspace...
Poem 187 of 230, WalkaboutsVerse (see my Blog for details):
A SOUTH SHIELDS WALKABOUT

Out of the museum-and-gallery 
(Wiser on Cookson and the local way), 
Down Ocean Road with, to the right of me, 
Its eateries and, left, neat places to stay; 
Before, on either side, Marine Parks - 
The southern-one a most beautiful place, 
Teeming with moorhens, swans, grebes and mallards 
In a small lake at a scenic-hill’s base. 

Then (holding chips from the parade’s cafe 
And, thus, a flock of gulls squawking above) 
Onto the South Pier I made my way: 
Seeing seaweed over rocks - like a glove - 
And high-and-dry sands held from transgression 
By growth of grass and the weaving of wood, 
Plus, in the dim light of a sleepy sun, 
Fishing boats returning to Tynemouth’s hood. 

(C) David Franks 2003