Nothing Is Real… Strawberry Fields Forever

as a boy

John Lennon & the gates of

Strawberry Field

Where he played

As a young boy…


(and still)

Nothing is real…

Strawberry Fields Forever.


Every year at this time

The hole

Where the spark of you


…it must be high or low,


Like a cosmic holograph,

Zooming into view,

A thumbprint,

Touching &

Sailing into the sound

Of all that is

Going down.

Rockabilly blues overlap into

A new dimension


You, again, deliver us into…


(and still)

Nothing is real…

Strawberry Fields Forever.


Steering through,


 Ornately fashioned

Gates of Perception…

Ah, Irish John of England,

Blake, Luddites and

Nell Gwyn,

Entering that space

Within your self,


In your absence

 You can always be.

Let me take you


Cause I’m going to…


(and still)

Nothing is real…

Strawberry Fields Forever.


Lyrics to Strawberry Fields Forever:

Strawberry Fields Forever by The Beatles video:


I had a friend in high school who would wear all black clothing, as well as sunglasses, walk beneath a black umbrella no matter the weather, and hitchhike at night. He laughed that he wanted to make people wonder whether they had actually seen somebody or not. We thumbed a ride a couple miles to a diner past the edge of town, with small jukeboxes on the counter, spending all our spare change playing Strawberry Fields Forever. He was, of course, in black, the small town atmosphere verging on confrontational, and the music, even though coming from tiny speakers, aiming rays of otherworldly colours and sensations into one’s mind. This song has never ceased to touch my sense of what might be mystical. I know I am not alone in missing John Lennon terribly.

as a boy