Fresh roasted
And drank
The goods
–
I read
In the New York Times
Major corporations
Move overseas
Conglomerate fakes
For certain tax breaks
Yet they all expect
If they see a hole in the street
Or need to call the police
That all is well
Quick responses
To their high rise suite
How does it work
Let’s put Capitalism on display
Say that making money
Is the ultimate goal
This I understand
But to cut your dues short
Of what you owe
To have the same expectations
Around you
But have less money to owe
I find this ironic sense of entitlement
A great piece exposing
An even greater dissent
I find it morally deviant
To grab the cash
And make the midnight dash
Move “operations” overseas
To see how big your tax break can be
It would seem that violates the calling
Of watching each others back
Taking care of others
If they are stalling
All for a little extra cash befalling
To these companies I wave goodbye
I just scratch my head and sigh
Is it just a sign of the times
Take what you can and fly
Morally, I would rather die
Than watch these sick
Money grabbing bastards
Eat our pie
I wish I could understand
My own angered emotions
I wake up in the fog of
A misty blue ocean
No warning in sight
My destiny it seems
Hope infected with blight
Animal with parasite
A foundation
Buckling at the beams
It’s not that I am upset
Just set in a way
I guess I just have ambivalence
Somedays
“I don’t mean to be too frank”
I tell my wife
She is the golden leaf
In my life
But I have to understand
My own emotions
Polarities in the deep sea ocean
I will struggle through
A cup of caffeine
I am sure will do
Some food too
And back to work
I’m sure
I’ll make it through
Unequivocal ambivalence
Or certain uncertainty
Whirling around me
Circling my own mind
Quick letters strewn together
An unsettling fotrune teller
The only news I want to read
Will fill me with uncertainty
Instill constantly
The path in front of me
But life is anything but detail
I am as much a creator
As I am a reactor
All the elements
Life throws at me
I can surely not factor
2 to the power of 1
A 2 fold sum
Of the dim lit moon
And a paved path to the sun
Summation of a uniquely
Different point of view
Innovating steps
Taken in front of you
The moment is savored
At first sip
Like a fine wine
Decanter fine glass drip
Through the opening
And into the reservoir
These sips taken
With berry bliss unmistaken
And later off to bed
True that the senses are awakened
Procrastinator once said
It is the morning anew
Where innovation feels dead
The hangover of a loving encounter
Must wake up and rub his head
It is in the small moments
That true doubt creeps in
The despicable little whim
Unable to see the finish line within
I fear these moments
When the moment become lackluster
I can’t phone in a true back buster
Muster up
Look up
You can see it through
If I just continue
Fear will not overcome
Truth, hope, love
Can not come undone
Swat at the sun
Sit and suck your thumb
Hopes of fear
Small minds have
Truly will never overcome
The sense of unity
A deep spring within you and me
Is fundamentally
An idea which
We should all agree
Ideally
However when a evil tragedy
Strikes the innocents
Lacking any true humanity
What are we left with
Other than a hollowed out hope
A useless and frayed rope
I have a belief
That there is more to unite
Than to tear apart
We as humans all share a common heart
Not emotionally
Purely physically
We are born with brains and toes
We all face our challenges of growing old
Not all is lost in humanity
I just saw someone yesterday
Help a lost fellow on the street
Maybe a hope of full unity may fall away
The hands of each other
We somehow share a sense of commonplace
Deep within the human race
On a Monday it seems burned out
Washed up and worn out
The hope runs like a well deep underground
Running full but without a sound
I share this hope
That is the simple humanity of each other
That we are truly bound
It’s not for everyone
The rain outside the window
Chased by a bellowing siren
Distant and cause
Uncertain
Somehow the romance of the city
It’s not what others would
Consider pretty
But sitting close to the window
That no longer can stay open
Falling under its own weight
We sit and wait
With each other
Hearing the city whisper back
Not all will hear the city and think
Of the romantic dialogue it brings
Friends on the street sing
Bar doors open and clang
Buses whirl past
Breaks well past the point of repair
Alarming sound when stopped
Car horns ask each other question
Well into the night
Much rather being certain
Than polite
And we sit
Arm in arm
On our recycled sofa
From the neighbor
We moved it for her as a favor
Now we relax
In the building with uneven floors
Why would we ask
For anything
More
It’s not the consequences
Of my actions that scare me
It’s the consequences of my inactions
That scare me
Paris to NYC
Trying to turn a hope
Into a dynasty
We had a helluva trip
From the grounds of the Rockefeller
To the Parisian sun
We take one step as it comes
Each stage of fear
We soon overcome
Out in the streets of these cities
Avoid the voids
Headphones on to block the noise
Our journey spans the world
A bespoken pearl
We hold hands
Change everything we know
With every path we go