A single digit day in store
The ice clad water
Laps against the shore
Of Lake Michigan
On the southern front
Where industry meets
Earth
The cold blows over my skin
Again
And reminds me of my youth
When it wasn’t to hard
To live through the bitter
Cold
Write about your first computer.
The radiant buzz came from
A computer on an old desk
A hand me down
From one the rest
Made from basic connections
And cables
The first computer was able
To make the mind explore
New territories
That to this day
I still can’t ignore
My first computer was a tower
And sat below the desk
On the floor
It was nothing fancy
A hand me down
All around
A decent machine
For computing the latest
Intentions
Simple connections
The first computer was a giant
Mess
But it made life go along
With all the rest
If it were clear
These words would be
Near
Impossible
But rather
A dark grey cloud
Weathered smoke
On a blooming pounding
Of feet
My skeptical heart
Is on repeat
Over and over
The questions and concerns
We have for each other
Playing out
In my own head
Here and gone
Never was mine
The hope was
Always wrong
At the turn
In the corner
Where my hopes all live
In abundance
To get and to give
The niceties of life
All around
But there was the right
The way up
And the way
Down
Thankful
For the words
That can come
From a moment
Of time
Thankful for the night
And the day
That surrounds our
Lives
Thankful to be
Allowed to say
Thanks
Today
Now and then
I have a weakness of
Spirit
That is caught
Between my mind
And heart
So I have to breathe in
The hope that I have left
And keep my eyes to the
Horizon above
Rather
Than
Below
The blanket fell
Down on my world today
For the eye of white
Set looking
At the ground
Now breaking with specks
Of snow
In a hurry the wind blows
Over the water and sand
Ground to me
And my eyes fill with
The water
That makes the same
Snow
My blue home
On the shores
Of the lakes
From which I am
Born
The water calls me
Even when I am weary
To try and understand
The ripples of waves
That crest
At the midnight hour
Over and over
My blue home
Through
I’d rather be
A million
Things
That I can’t
Than one that I am
It’s the human tragedy
Within
The heart and soul
To long for
Ideas
And getting old
So rather
Than I’d rather
Today I state
I am
A Cup of Songwriting 