I am in a lucid dream
Not how I see it
But in between
From downtown Brooklyn
Skyways and underpass
12 hours away
With summers green grass
My mind blends the past
Until my eyes can finally relax
Lucid
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Monthly Archives: June 2015
All I Really Need
All I really wanted
Was to hold you
Hold you tight
All I really needed
Was to love you
With all my life
Low Flying Bird
There is no final dance
No significant closing chance
Understated
Undermined
Love and Passion
Just takes a bit of time
No looking toward the sky
For a fulfilling sign
I stretch the curtains
Of my wandering mind
I refuse to let go
Claiming there is a closing time
In my mind the scene changes
Arranges the lines around me
I hear that the weary word
From the wings of a low flying bird
Flapping wings unheard
We bend at the knee
To touch the ground cold
As I maintain my posture
But am getting old
There is no final dance
No closing notes
I will not hang my life work
On that whimsical hope
Sieve
To each their own
Front page celebrity
To the wholly unknown
For me and my wife
Unbeknownst to us a home
Rather sips and gravitation on the road
Everybody has a home
I am told
Those with simple desires
Even those whose desires are
More bold
In New York City
Rather a pass through
Than a stable
I wish I could say it’s home
Unfortunately
I am unable
So my heart wonders
From Oregon to the
Waters of Florida
I wonder if there is a place
Where our daily life is full lived
Rather than having it go through
The city sieve
No complaints
Restrain from bad words to give
It’s just my worried heart
Weighing out the negatives
Breathe
The city Monopoly on top of me
Run me over
Push and topple me
The middle class is
High under siege
Who owns these buildings
I see
In front of me
Behind me
Who’s pieces touch the sky
Down to the ground
All around
The goal of surviving
Is miles short of thriving
On the ground struggling to breathe
Can feel like I am dying
Not on my death bed I am lying
To my soul
The energy it is supplying
Paycheck to paycheck
Account balance recheck
Food and meal not set
In a city with a finger
Lingering
On my reset
Surely Uncertainty
Surely the uncertainty
Will certainly
Wear perfectly on
The real worthy
Feelings
Confirming me
Consciously
Putting me feet in front of me
Supposedly
There is a 1 out of 3
Chance
That whether we sing
Or dance
We will not have enough
Cash
To stash away
For the future
So we must take utmost precaution
With scalpel and suture
Sow our future
To know it can grow
And go where we hope it goes
Our future together
Must be stronger
Then when the wind blows
But truly
Who knows
Sympathetic Inflections
I am no controlled spirit
Untamed and overgrown
My emotions can be so
Easily swung
Not the words that I am
Proud of
Not in pride am I congested
When I am over zealous
My heart can be to little
Protected
How is it that the same tricks
With new names
Can catch a heart beat
All the same
If I could only go under cover
Into my own deepest detections
Pull out the weakest of
Sympathetic
Inflections
So rather than pick up
The pieces from hopes unmet
I could let my heart down easy
Lay it to rest gentle
While it’s quiet on the set
However my heart will wrestle me
At every turn
Up and down
It’s always involved
Every choice
All around
A Cup of Songwriting 