Light Rain

Light rain on the wedding day
The flowers bloom even though the sun fades away
The church bells playing in proclamation
The day of the souls eternal declaration
To join another in this struggle of life
To be conjoined until they die
As one more drop falls from the summer sky
Today is the wedding day
And as grass polls the water underneath the soil
The white wedding dress and suits toil
On a summers day in June

Advertisements

Mr. Dylan

The beginnings of a song about how it seems that peoples belief in song has died. It has gone away with our generation – not that it is a bad thing – but things are changing. If I had a chance this is what I would want to ask Dylan, Seeger, and Lennon. It is a work in progress but it will someday become a song. Cheers and enjoy.

Hey Mr. Dylan is there anything else you would say

Hey Mr. Dylan would you show me how to play

Hey Mr. Dylan would you do or say anything more

Hey Mr. Dylan the kids don’t care anymore

 –

Then one day

The songs will just fade away

And we will all go back

And live some other way

If you really must go

Please remember this

I am nothing more

Than some silly altruist

 –

Hey Mr. Lennon would you sing it again

Hey Mr. Lennon things are so different from back then

Hey Mr. Lennon how did you write those songs

Hey Mr. Lennon it seems what you started is gone

 –

Then one day

The songs will just fade away

And we will all go back

And live some other way

If you really must go

Please remember this

I am nothing more

Than some silly altruist

 –

Hey Mr. Seeger can anyone around here still hear

Hey Mr. Seeger no one listens to songs with ipods in their ears

Hey Mr. Seeger I am doing the best that I can

Hey Mr. Seeger the songs are dead and I have no plan

Call Out

Practice hard

Churn them out

That is what the songwriting life is all about

It is no matter where you are

You have to do

And sing from your heart

That makes songs worth writing

Fingers sliding and bending

Notes ringing and clinging

To every syllable and vowel

That sings from this mouth

Out into the world

To scream and shout

That new songs will be birthed

From hand and shovel

Pulled from the earth

And given a life to live

In peoples ears

This is the gift to give

The Sweet Smell of Rejection

Nothing like the sweet smell of rejection in the morning

To receive the call an early warning

Its not the right fit but I wish you the best

But if you had to receive a grade you failed the test

Refreshed I see it in a morning sigh

No more than a simple rejuvenating sign

That more must be done to push forward

No looking back or retracting your hand

Giving my best out there I cannot look back

The evening lines have been drawn in the sand

Take a breath and begin again

This will seem to happen every now and again

I take it as a compliment

That the successful plans have been laid

I will not give into some cheap demands

To jump at their will fall upon their command

People look for something to fill their own void

All the while they hold stiff while creativity is destroyed

Looking for something to replace the old

Will make the fillers seem out of place and cold

Wet and waiting on the driveway of replacement

Taking what just comes along seems way to complacent

They want someone who will fit the mold

Casting away the unique and the wanderers

The fearless and the bold

For someone who does not mind to grow mold

Upon their creative gears and will simply listen to their peers

Me that I am not and surely never will be

What will ever become of me I guess I will wait and see

As for now I am content on my bed of worthlessness

It does not fear me to be alone out here calling

Much better than rich and my creative mind mauling me

I recluse back to come back stronger

Eager to fight again

Rejection is nothing more

Than a reason to start again

The Daily Routine

Ah the challenge of keeping creativity alive in my life. As I am pulled to try and sell the art and the creations that have already occurred. It is hard sometimes to step back and try and let the creative juices be heard. So I sat down to try and document my daily routine of keeping creativity alive in my life. So here it is – enjoy!

The daily routine

Wake up in the morning

Make sure to exercise

Work out the arms and the thighs

Get back and get cleaned up

Got to write and practice

Keep the routine up

3 or four hours later

I now sit at the compu-tater

Life’s lines complex yet defined

I make this no place to wine

Letting go on paper what must be done

Seemed like a good idea

Challenging and fun

Poems must be constructed daily

This challenges what I have to say

About beauty, art, and the progress of today

The challenge is not to conform

But to set a new aggressive norm

Creativity must be engaged often

Or else the course muscles will soften

Decay and leave your soul

Looking for someone else to enroll

The creative spirit can be fleeting and gone

So I must capture these spirits in songs

Poems, writings, and other means

Or else I will be left with nothing

Creativity gone and no job to boot

I look pretty bad now in a business suit

Full of aspirations are these writings

Even though my mind is rattled with distractions

I must be real and stay ahead

Better off here trying

Than creativity dead

Long Days and Unpaid Bills

Long days and unpaid bills
Winters long and summer thrills
Get laid off find a new job
Find the hustle to make ends meet
I will never sit in the CEO seat
But this hustle has a beat
A beat that keeps my feet moving
Put some food on the table
Waiting for news
Information I could really use
The days slip through my fingers
All everyone sits around and debates
Whether the songs written
Have what it takes
To pay the health insurance
To give my life a little assurance
Is that all I sought?
a fish swimming through life
In the net of capitalism caught

The Old Car

The old car is still hanging in
making it through Winter’s thick and Summers thin
The AC rattles
the carpets are worn out
But the motor still delivers me to the destination
very devout
The weather is broken in
The locks don’t work and haven’t for days
The radio still sings out a couple of melodies
But when the wheels struggle up the hill it gets my sympathy
on a warm day in June
When the engine is ringing out
In it’s classic tune
Bellowing out like a great monsoon
This is my car and I stand by it
Even though the dollars I’ve paid have been multiplying
But it is a true beauty and I ain’t lying That’s all I have to say about this your car
It’s taken me miles and miles afar
The dream alive when I get down
We’ve toured we’ve laughed we’ve cried
In this cabin we lived our lives
So this car I say cheers
I hope you may live on for years and years

Swollen Hands

Her heart has more love to give

Then I’ll ever know

Her heart has more love to give

And she’s growing old

Time can harden your heart

Break you apart

And turn it into sand

With weary eyes

And weathered lines

No one would understand

These eyes see the world

Felt the knife slide through

Her swollen hand

Call the birds

Forget yourself

Put your ambitions on the shelf

No way to live

Don’t ask but give

Breeding nothing but bitterness within

 –

This heart has more love to give

Then I’ll ever know

This heart has more love to give

And we are growing old

When things get bad around you

Walls falling down too

I know what she’ll do

She will start again

With some new friends

A new life so far from the bends

Make her way

Cutting off the slack

Far away and never looking back

Then one day

She will turn and say

Things were never quite the same

She will know

That in her soul

Pain fades but never grows old

Corporate Giants

Oh no it looks like the corporate giants are at it again
Taking money from the thick and thin
They don’t believe in things like sins
If it’s one more dollar in their pocket they win
Deceit and betrayal are their corporate focus
Taking every little dollar from every little person with a little hocus-pocus
Don’t worry about calling them they already know what’s going on
They don’t much care that what they do is wrong
There is a little hope and redemption from a small voice like mine
I guess it just must be at sign of the time
Before too long I’ll be back at it again
Because corporate profits are the same now
As they were back then
A dollar earned is a dollar saved but a dollar stolen is a dollar played
Corporations love their games and love their dollars
The best I can hope to do is just scream and holler
Greed will continue on regardless of its ambition
It will write a new book the third edition
So don’t forget when somebody takes your money one day
It’s the one and only
Corporate way