Burgeon of Beauty

A Burgeon of Beauty

Holding hands on a Friday night

Been a long time

But time has not stop us

From feeling alright

Long nights away

From each others side

Dark highways have no way

Of holding you tight

Then comes sickness

Challenges ensue

Conversations float from silly

To the serious

And seriously overdue

In life there is always exchanges

Love and time

For money and statue

Little do we see the hard earned love

Behind the golden statues

The giving hands

Can only give so may gifts

Tonight we hold each other

Closer than before

Loneliness melts

Falling off

Feeling grief no more

It’s a silent seed of love

That we maintain

In a life of give and take

Under the weight and strain

Repair our Wounds

The bags are full

On the hardwood floors

My wife looks at me

“I’m not sure I can do this anymore”

Life is rough 

Getting ready for the road

But when opportunity calls

We know no more

Than to go 

Repair the wounds

And hope for a full room

The lessons we learned 

The muscles we have conditioned

For a true living condition

And we push on

A Tradition of Bad Decisions

Oscar has no love for fraternities

On that note

Oscar’s love left him

When she was in a sorority

I guess she had different

Priorities

While the majority of the US

Has the tradition of bad decisions

Oscar from Paris

Sees it much differently

He said that everyone

Was into his french accent

He was a type of delicacy

At these types of sororities

But they lacked in advanced thought

Somehow this childish nature

Would furnish a top degree

Oscar could not disagree more

I found this conversation

At a bar in Brooklyn

With delightful fascination

Oscar and me

Talking about sororities

In New York City

A Sweltering Embrace

The long sweat drips down my face

Leaving a trace

A vibrant jet stream

Cooling attempts being made

The sun spares no shade

On a New York City day

People walk carelessly

Trying not to perspire

None at all is desired

The subways bellow a thick

Steam as you enter in

Blowing the summer wind

Not much you can do

To evade

Or catch any shade from the heat

It is a element of highest rank

Infiltrating the smallest space

Under the heat of summer

With a sweltering embrace

I’d Rather be Lying 

I’d rather be lying than say it

The city can frustrate 

Illustrate the non city perks

In Manhattan on a hot summer spurt

Oak tables decorated elaborately

Tightly held collars creased with summer heat

In the subways 

Not a getaway as much as an oven

Leaves my mind wandering

Of the lakes outside the Midwest

Only too relinquish my summer request

For now I tango with 90 in New York City

Trying to keep cool in the shade

Of 180 10th street

Stay inside to supercedes the heat

There are times I would rather be 

On the lakes of the great state

Than on the city streets

The Sensitivity of Progress

To hold or let go

To live

Or grow old

We shoulder these decisions

In what I learn

What I know

The sensitivity of progress

Can be held up

Reset

Regress

If proper attention is not paid

To forward motion

And progress

I obsess

About the shape my mind

Creates

The inner monologue

That projects my final epilogue

“My journey will never get easier”

To a stranger I said

He quickly replied with no fetter

“True, but we only get better”

Joy: The Elastic Life

Oh the joy of redemption

To give life a exultant expression

When it pushes you to the end

Past the point of a simple bend

To the breaking convex

Not easy but rather complex

It gives back

One small ounce

To help push the mind

From the weathered mounds

The joy that can be felt

When life tries to help you out

Picks you up a bit

After seeing you almost drown

I am happy for these days

To be enjoyed and endured

To see a light in the woods

When all of life seemed unsure

Mantra

The harder we try to stay the same

The tougher the pull to let go

Higher stakes to move on

Infinite uncertainty of moving along

The wrong choice is to hold on

To memories

That are full of childhood

And summer lawns

We leave

And the clock still carries on

We make like water

Flowing through life without knowing

Whether each decision is right or wrong

I call this our life song

We may not know the tune

But we carry along

We have learned to let go

Of people, places, and things

To see what the new morning will bring

Sing in new light

Holding hands and feeling alright 

This is my mantra tonight

Blindly Foster the Bottom Line

The ridiculous news to report

Healthcare says it wants to hike rates

It was ill prepared

For how ‘sick’ the new customers are

This made my stomach turn

A giant corporate entity

Does not even know the US people

That it serves

Serving up new rates is what

They want to do

They don’t care to care for anyone

Other than themselves

No soft word can put this injustice down

We pay companies

That don’t want to care for anyone

That doesn’t foster the bottom line

Mother Theresa said she saw

The worst of poverty in the US

And we try to make changes

With corporate billions that don’t want to care

For the sick and elderly

Surely they have capitalized on our culture

With no intent to give back

Rather sneak a little more

We must understand that people are sick

Sick and tired

And it is our calling to care

So that we in turn can be cared for

It makes me sick

To see the headlines

That healthcare officials

Had no idea how sick people really are

They should cut a vacation and do something for once

Take care of the US people

A Family Reality 

This may be a little heavy

I will try to keep my hand steady

I just wanted to inquire

Not for me

But for the others around me

Has your mind been 

Assaulted by thoughts of suicide

As my father 

I know we have never fallen too far

From the tree

My brothers and I

We struggle with life’s

Pull and subside

But I wonder if we 

Have all struggled together

The same feeling from the same

Family line

Somehow if we struggle together

It makes it seem 

Alright