Blue Print Plan

Hard to imagine

That my body is not the same

As five years ago

There is no blue print plan

Mentality expands

Trading wisdom for youth

I don’t recognize the latter

In a picture

Or anything for the matter

Music a new pathway sends

Seeing sunsets through revitalized lens

How is it that I can be the same

Not feeling anything the same

Physically all new

Just the name

Is the one part that stays the same

Yet my mind continues on a linear path

For it is a wonderful question to ask

How we can rebirth ourselves

Yet maintain the constant roots

Even when I awake before the dew

It is still me

It is still you

Greasy Hand Salutation

The fast food fascination

Greasy hand salutation

Black fingernail sludge

With no regard

Just a lopsided smudge

How many mouths enjoy

What the corporate supply chain

Has fed down the drain

From this repulsive trap

We consume such meat

Prestige as if it where a treat

Not one question is asked

Until the collective conscience

Is fully grasped

Then we become more aware

More in tune

Of what is going on in the room

By then our bellies are full of antibiotics

The green eyed optics

Somehow we agreed to this tender

Although we never saw

The face of the sender

Robotic Eclectic

Plug me in

Thoughts outside the program

Are the ultimate sin

Emotions are fouls

As older feels

Under the jowls

We are now bread to be emotionless

Plug in technology


How is it

That the one trait

That secures our own humanistic state

Is now to be sought out

Shot down

Not welcomed


The highest sense of awareness

Is trumped by sedentariness

Now generations are called to the lowest

Common denominator

I hold my emotions with pride

It is what makes humanity real on the inside

Robotic eclectic humanistic

Is not for me


So I will stay unplugged

In the most literal sense

Connected human sense

Until I am not allowed

Humanities Weary Seam

Where do lost dreams go

From the heads of dreamers

To the world outflow

Do dreams dry up and fall away

Do dreams pack up on a rainy day

Is there a collection of dreams

On the other side of time

Or gently recycled

What was once yours

Is now mine

Do dreams rest well below the sand

Never to be unearthed or seen again

Fall like autumn leaves on a cold day

Raked together and thrown away

Or do they linger around

Like the smell of smoke in an old town car

Can you see them trying to survive

Like summer grass planted late in July

Do they hold any hope of reimurging

Like dreams floating up and resurging

Or do dreams walk away quietly

Not disrupting the feelings inside me

Or do they burn out bright and wildly

Dreams exist

Dreams must not die

It gives me hope

To run fast or fly

Some are real

Some uncertain

Take the time

Pull back the curtain

In each of us I am certain

Behind humanities weary seam

We will find

Each one of us has a dream

The Sweet Coffee Croon

Out the window

A new view

Of a city on the northern end

Sunswept USA 

Cloudy holding pattern

On the skies of gray

Friends of one another

Iron clad stories conversations

Happy and sad

Feet popping out of sandals

Summer fires are now past due

Which leaves just me and you

In this cafe 

Flipping crisp new pages 

A delicate smell of expensive hand wash

Worn about the white room

Back on the open road soon

For now we swoon each other

With mellow mugged coffee to croon sweet into

We Fail: Us

Where can we turn

When the world turning around

The world we created

Falls down

We fail us

Celebrities casting cosmic dust

On a race of humanity

Yet at times so inhumane

Full of disdain


Me to see this travesty

All around

In the papers

Insidious creatures from the ground


With my future

Its subversive to even ask now

Why there is such a break down

In race negotiations

Legitimate marriage situations

Crime in big cities

I need some good news

Something so good I can not refuse

The beauty of the love we all share

We share it somewhere

Just not in the headlines

More so in the outerlines

Humanity is great than celebrity

Is greater than these travesties

Is greater than cheap obscenity

And I hold this hope

To be true

With Love

I see the headlines

Death and violence

Run rampantly

The morning

I crack my eyes open

As the world bombards me

All this violence

Is all my eyes see

Violence for fame

Violence as a game

Violence on Social Media

Violence is what the media is feeding you

Or have we become more barbariac

In the way we live

Willing to do whatever it takes

Taking other lives

Even though it is not ours to give


So many guns

We fear each other now

More than the burning flame in the sky

The sun

Daughters and sons

We are all one of the above

We can not fate hate with hate

Rather with love

Beautiful Infamy

The barges float along Lake Michigan

Full of metals heavy and rusted

As the sun sets up the day

The water subdued

What natures made

We undue

The smokey waves of Ogden Dunes

On the horizon set

Cast iron red eaves

Made with crashing steam

It’s a night in the lake of industry

Set in a land of

Beautiful infamy

The Fresh Ocean

Fall asleep to the sound

Of the fresh ocean

Inland bound

The Southern shore of Lake Michigan

Eyelids flutter a bit slower and softer

Mind easing into a simple place

No place on the face of this earth

As still and quiet as the southern shores

It’s a magical sleeping potion

On the shores of the fresh ocean