The Transatlantic Split
Oceans divide
If we didn’t vote for this
Are we still on the wrong side
No tax returns
But we have a winner
“I won and that’s it”
Those statements don’t make my wonder
Any thinner
The President to all people
Not just your supporters and colleagues
C’mon Don this is not the minor leagues
Referendums and revolts
It seems we are coming loose at the bolts
A Transatlantic Split could arise
Good God
Good bye
Rebound down
Not up and away
Stray a little from the fray
Relax stay composed
Where this will take us who knows
So jump in and stay a while
Bring it back with an easy smile
I rebound down and take a rest
Soon we will be put to the test
Such sweet sips
Light on airy lips
Roasted red hue
Coffee caramel smooth
Effervescent and never eschewed
Thank you coffee
Thanks to the hands that produce
Thanks for the morning
Another day through
In the waning moments of the night
As the eve relinquishes to a morning call
That is when we must give our all
Not when the path is clear and certain
Certainly when it is most uncertain
When the stage is not yet set
Sleeping behind a pulled curtain
My hope is to rise in those moments
Tested and true
Both of us together
Me and You
I show up
But late
Let’s get one thing straight
No words matter
In a great deflate
Deflate and prosper
“You’re fired”
But I already walked
From your offer
So here comes the New Year
The new changes
Bring on the corruption cases
Watch the fires blazin’
En garde!
En garde!
Many ships set sail at night
Setting sale in the winter
Protecting the sailors from
The evening’s blight
We have shared many meals
In this life
Made some jokes
And done alright
Friendship is a ship built together
Keeping us free from the blasts of the outer world weather
This ship has sailed for years
Our hearts have learned
Loved
Refined
Cheers glasses
And dined
From New York to Los Angeles
Bloomington to Fort Wayne
Our friendship is similar to back then
But not quite the same
Just as the weather can alter a boat
Over the years
So has our lives altered course over time
But it is true friendship that remains
At the core we are still the same
As when we boarded the ship of friendship
As reluctant strangers
We are now bound together
Friends all the same
Choices are made
Daily
Frequently
Momentarily
Temporary
Permanent
But one choice is definitive
Never to be made again
Choosing joy is a choice
That can survive the thick and thin
This infrequent gesture must be checked
As frequently as the mind can remember
That the truth is joy is not easy
Not instantaneous
Not always joyous
But mandatory
To choose joy over an erroneous option
There is a reason for such joy
Substantiated joy
The feeling of a mild sunset
Crimson in its beauty and restlessness
That joy must be felt from the heart
Exclaimed in the throat
And shared with other willing hearts
Joy is not a good find
Kept in one’s own heart
One’s own mind
Joy is a friend sharing a conversation
Joy is love overflowing
Flowing from one heart to another
Remembering that a life lived
Is giving and never knowing
There is a place on Manhattan Ave.
Down on the street
With a view
A little spot called Peter Pan
My morning donut man
Light but filling
Soft but full
Smell of fresh dough walking in
Warming from the thin winter air
Grab a couple of loose Washingtons
Fumbling some change
The pale white aprons fill the counter
They exchange money for food
As I grasp this first-morning donut
I embrace its warmth and familiarity
My teeth rupture the delicate sugar coating
Unleashing the yeast flavor in subtle fashion
In this moment I am home
Wherever that takes me
The sugar hangs on my chin
As I walk back out through the crowded doorway
I am on my way
Back to Brooklyn
Back to life
Breathe it all in
Take one last bite
Twin flames reach up to the sky
Stretched out like two Great Danes
A wry gesture to a waning night
Love burns in his heart
For her
For love
For good
Souls entangled in this life together
No matter the weather
The twin flames reach for the sky
Day and night
The wind has no hope to blight this fire
For 24 hours a day
Blazing as if fed by turpentine
Love is fed by action
Defined not by material
But the ethereal
The twin flames
Him and her
Love
Continue to write
Question
Inquire
The creative process shall never tire
Agendas will be set
And disrupted
Hope bursts like a bubble
Whose flight has been interrupted
The job of the artist is to set free
Ideas before they can be accepted politically
To stay pure in original thought and progression
Artistic pursuit on the mind like an obsession
I will not put hope in others
Not those who claim to rise above the rest
As if us the collective whole
Was just a second best
Rather these words are our power
When we are powerless
We can still speak
And be heard
Every single word will land on an ear
No great cause can be pursued with fear
Rather we go forth and seek truth
Writing the words that resonate with me and you
Not waiting for an angel investor or debt collector
We all will write and be heard
Be heard
This truth I have written on January 3rd
A Cup of Songwriting 