Category Archives: Poems

Rooftop Friday

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Rooftop Friday nights
Pressed linens and evening skylights
Skyline fading in the backdrop
Of this terrace rooftop
Music plays gentle melodies
Clouds block out burning light
My guitar sits waiting for a new tune
Played well into the evening night
Breeze passes on my left cheek
Sunlight wrapping around flowers and pillars alike
Chairs waiting for the party to begin
Breaking out and summers in
Flowers push up from soil life giving
Trees fall soft on distant ground
Giving life to the view from above
Green and golden a generous view
A tower and a dome rest to the north
Towering over trees confident exuberant
Bricks filled solid and firm
Prepared for years of life
Holding the structure to the ground
On a Friday night on a rooftop
Eyes see what I have not seen
In a way I have never seen
As the night wanes on
Fall asleep until that morning dawn

Our Selfish Nature

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Are we really selfish from conception

We asks our mothers to give us life

From the moment of our inception

Taking nutrients blood and life

From deep inside

Of our mothers belly

Asking for oxygen and food

To be taken care of

Regardless of her mood

There is no waiting in beginning

Asking asking asking

Wondering how we will survive

How will our mothers keep us alive

So it makes me wonder

Was I born selfish

Is human nature itself intrinsically selfish

To take rather than to give

Is that the way we begin to live

I understand that life is freely given

By the one who creates us

Whether it be god you believe

Or the forces of nature

It has no relevance in this conversation

I want to ask

Are you selfish

Wanting a life to live and food to eat

Is that the core of the selfish life

Or is it pure survival instincts

We surely cannot sustain life without

It is our job then to destroy selfishness

In the end

To see it’s light burnt out

Dedicated to the last cause

Very devout

People begin

Some grow

Emotionally

Some grow

Old

Some grow

Selfish

Some grow

Cold

We may be born to our selfish ways

As we grow old it is our responsibility

To shed the selfish life for independence

Dignity and responsibility

And that is the way it should be

 

Satisfaction Guaranteed

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Satisfaction Guaranteed

2 minus a fraction may disagree

But when they do it is fun to see

That not all can be made happy

Some look for reasons to drag

The anger out in life

To take the butter knife

Make it a weapon of bitter strife

Looking for something to complain about

Dreading the look of the new round about

The feelings build in their soul

Calling from the depths of the cold

To push anger out of their teeth

Lips clenched tight

Holding on to every breath

Taking time to announce and renounce

Passing the baton for the test

To other people infected with this anger

They inflict on others

Knowing no stranger

There is nothing stranger

Then the subtle complaint

Of what was good

Must be forced upon bad

The cashier checks me out with both hands

Asking if I would like cash in hand

I respond with a whimper

Not quite sure she could hear

But I count my change and remember

That life is much easier

If you can control that temper

Macaroni Night

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Macaroni nights
Sirens bellow down the street
4th of July explosions down the way
Hopefully one didn’t go astray
Tonight’s simple dinner
Enjoyed on a Sunday
Boil the water and prep the butter
Nothing much more than that
The buzz of the refrigerator echoes on
Launching cold air upon
Vegetables and fruits
Making it so all the cold food
Stays till tomorrow
But for tonight no refrigerator needed
Just some noodles and my soon to be wife
Life is simple on a Sunday evening
Growing tired as the eyes feel weary
Tomorrow will bring Mondays challenges
But for tonight
It’s just mac and cheese

Light Rain

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Light rain on the wedding day
The flowers bloom even though the sun fades away
The church bells playing in proclamation
The day of the souls eternal declaration
To join another in this struggle of life
To be conjoined until they die
As one more drop falls from the summer sky
Today is the wedding day
And as grass polls the water underneath the soil
The white wedding dress and suits toil
On a summers day in June

Mr. Dylan

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The beginnings of a song about how it seems that peoples belief in song has died. It has gone away with our generation – not that it is a bad thing – but things are changing. If I had a chance this is what I would want to ask Dylan, Seeger, and Lennon. It is a work in progress but it will someday become a song. Cheers and enjoy.

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Hey Mr. Dylan is there anything else you would say

Hey Mr. Dylan would you show me how to play

Hey Mr. Dylan would you do or say anything more

Hey Mr. Dylan the kids don’t care anymore

 –

Then one day

The songs will just fade away

And we will all go back

And live some other way

If you really must go

Please remember this

I am nothing more

Than some silly altruist

 –

Hey Mr. Lennon would you sing it again

Hey Mr. Lennon things are so different from back then

Hey Mr. Lennon how did you write those songs

Hey Mr. Lennon it seems what you started is gone

 –

Then one day

The songs will just fade away

And we will all go back

And live some other way

If you really must go

Please remember this

I am nothing more

Than some silly altruist

 –

Hey Mr. Seeger can anyone around here still hear

Hey Mr. Seeger no one listens to songs with ipods in their ears

Hey Mr. Seeger I am doing the best that I can

Hey Mr. Seeger the songs are dead and I have no plan

Call Out

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Practice hard

Churn them out

That is what the songwriting life is all about

It is no matter where you are

You have to do

And sing from your heart

That makes songs worth writing

Fingers sliding and bending

Notes ringing and clinging

To every syllable and vowel

That sings from this mouth

Out into the world

To scream and shout

That new songs will be birthed

From hand and shovel

Pulled from the earth

And given a life to live

In peoples ears

This is the gift to give

The Sweet Smell of Rejection

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Nothing like the sweet smell of rejection in the morning

To receive the call an early warning

Its not the right fit but I wish you the best

But if you had to receive a grade you failed the test

Refreshed I see it in a morning sigh

No more than a simple rejuvenating sign

That more must be done to push forward

No looking back or retracting your hand

Giving my best out there I cannot look back

The evening lines have been drawn in the sand

Take a breath and begin again

This will seem to happen every now and again

I take it as a compliment

That the successful plans have been laid

I will not give into some cheap demands

To jump at their will fall upon their command

People look for something to fill their own void

All the while they hold stiff while creativity is destroyed

Looking for something to replace the old

Will make the fillers seem out of place and cold

Wet and waiting on the driveway of replacement

Taking what just comes along seems way to complacent

They want someone who will fit the mold

Casting away the unique and the wanderers

The fearless and the bold

For someone who does not mind to grow mold

Upon their creative gears and will simply listen to their peers

Me that I am not and surely never will be

What will ever become of me I guess I will wait and see

As for now I am content on my bed of worthlessness

It does not fear me to be alone out here calling

Much better than rich and my creative mind mauling me

I recluse back to come back stronger

Eager to fight again

Rejection is nothing more

Than a reason to start again

The Daily Routine

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Ah the challenge of keeping creativity alive in my life. As I am pulled to try and sell the art and the creations that have already occurred. It is hard sometimes to step back and try and let the creative juices be heard. So I sat down to try and document my daily routine of keeping creativity alive in my life. So here it is – enjoy!

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The daily routine

Wake up in the morning

Make sure to exercise

Work out the arms and the thighs

Get back and get cleaned up

Got to write and practice

Keep the routine up

3 or four hours later

I now sit at the compu-tater

Life’s lines complex yet defined

I make this no place to wine

Letting go on paper what must be done

Seemed like a good idea

Challenging and fun

Poems must be constructed daily

This challenges what I have to say

About beauty, art, and the progress of today

The challenge is not to conform

But to set a new aggressive norm

Creativity must be engaged often

Or else the course muscles will soften

Decay and leave your soul

Looking for someone else to enroll

The creative spirit can be fleeting and gone

So I must capture these spirits in songs

Poems, writings, and other means

Or else I will be left with nothing

Creativity gone and no job to boot

I look pretty bad now in a business suit

Full of aspirations are these writings

Even though my mind is rattled with distractions

I must be real and stay ahead

Better off here trying

Than creativity dead

Long Days and Unpaid Bills

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Long days and unpaid bills
Winters long and summer thrills
Get laid off find a new job
Find the hustle to make ends meet
I will never sit in the CEO seat
But this hustle has a beat
A beat that keeps my feet moving
Put some food on the table
Waiting for news
Information I could really use
The days slip through my fingers
All everyone sits around and debates
Whether the songs written
Have what it takes
To pay the health insurance
To give my life a little assurance
Is that all I sought?
a fish swimming through life
In the net of capitalism caught