Finley has many Finleyism's.
If he had his own reality show, I'm guessing I could get a partime job deciphering his lingo for the programs producers.
The words Toy Box.
Finley loves to say "Toy Box", but if he used this phrase on the air, a directors cut scrawl wouldn't easily be able to produce a simple definition.
In Finleys world "Toy Box" is another way of saying Jack Pot.
Other times he'll use it for some kind of Utopian existence.
But more often than not, when Finley drops "Toy Box" on you....he's simple referring to the thoughts in his mind.
Over the years, I've kind of pushed "Mental Vault", but I think it's too formal for him, and therefore lacks credibility.
Recently Mike wrote a poem about Atheists in Heaven.
When I complimented the piece and asked when he wrote it.....I shouldn't have been surprised by his response....
"I think that I pulled that one out of the toy box 2 years ago, but it sat in there for over 20 years before it ever saw daylight."
This is a huge difference between Finley and I.
I hate knowing that somewhere is a place where orphaned poems exsist.
God only knows how lonely popular poems can get.
So during the last couple of days, I have been clearing the cob webs in my toy box, and thinking of ideas, or poems that needed final tweaking.
The following is my first attempt ever at pulling discarded words from the past, and trying to create a platform for them in the now....
Mr. Finley, this is is several "LOVE" concepts rolled into one, but that doesn't mean you need to feel bad about tearing this down and reconstructing it in a public arena...I can take it.
THE PEOPLES EMPIRE
God's the true artist
Not Pablo Picasso
I traveled his sculpture
Early in April
The ocean, a tribute
The mountains, cathedrals
Such a sight to see
You would have to be his masterpiece
So grab the pot
And pour some coffee
Save room for the cream
Your morning face
A flawless canvas
While those brown eyes gleam
I salute the architect of your temple
For producing such a dream
A Goddess dwells in the people’s empire