Damp stillness in the Hudson Valley
Rocks broken
The cold ground
Swirves so violent and gentle
The Tectonic is avoided
Longer paths are better enjoyed
20 minutes from civilization
But 2 hours from the city
In the studio
Committed and gritty
On a Friday
In the August blush
The lightness of air
Held from highest peaks
Falling soft
On my face and cheeks
Holding air light
In lungs tight
I can only have moments
Which are
Never enough
Studio hours
Layered with contoured flowers
Decisions scoured
Around and over hours
Speakers pushing vibrations
Ears in full salutation
Summed with amps
Knobs awaiting determination
We apply ourselves
Throughout the daytime minutes
–
I hope
For more synchronicity
Pulling together songs
In artistic creation
14 hours of straight driving
It’s a New York night
Fuck.
You know I don’t eat that anymore
The smell of processed meats
Leaking through the cracked door
Orange yellow eggs smashed in
Not quite sure if it the slightest smell of plastic
That did me in
Logs of meat hammered out
Full of sodium bicarbonates
The thoughts just frustrates
But on Sunday mornings the family still enjoys
The processed meats
Made from recycled toys
The morning rests soft
Easy speaking and waking slow
The summer breeze rustles
Through the soft flower leaves
Change has its way of breaking me
Lowering my tolerance for what is coming
Arise to life’s challenges yet
One by one
I hope my buffer for new will not come undone
I have heard stories of burn outs
Giving up
I know that the roads we create
Are not easy or clear
But what we do
We do for love
My dear
Sudden change is what we fear most
Life’s swelling waves
In a small fishing boat
Bail out the water
Keeping our heads above the sea
It’s a commitment we made
A long time ago
Over a cup of Darjeeling Tea
There we were
The last night on the farm
The summer of farewells
Sun setting soft in the clouds
That lie just above the horizon
Air light and easy
Wind calm subtle yet breezy
So many memories made over months
Lived on the farm
Time to move on
No reason to hold on
Holding on too tight
Will only make it difficult to let go
So pack up our bags
And lets hit the road
Everything I need is right here in front of me
My hands, eyes, hope, desire
Everything I can use to bring myself higher
Hard work is the barrier
Constraining my own ethic
I feel that I have now realized this simple truth
What you focus on grows
What you forget about goes away with old
So I must refocus on what is in front of me
All the tools I need
Are surrounding me
Asking me
I will answer
Summer wanes
Like an early bird song in the morning
Warming and warning
We heed like leaves awaiting the fall
For changes that will come
Our lives will adjust with seasons
Waxing and waning
All the time anticipating the future
Holding dear to the past and present
We are old enough now
To realize if you look too much ahead
You will be left with future regret
Holding hands
Kissing lips
We await this changes with fires now dim lit
Summers waning pace has tapered off with the months
Cooling heads and sending us off
How I hold the present tight
But know that just letting go
Will be alright
A Cup of Songwriting 