Windy City homes
Built with wood
And concrete
So the hills come rolling
To the new side
Of the city
Light
Windy City
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An Artist
An artist
Can say
What has to be said
When others
Consider the matter
Dead
So heed the artists
Voice
In the quiet of
Stagnation
For the words of the
Artists
Can heal the
Nation
Object Soup
It was a hope
That what my eyes
Glanced
Upon
Was more than just
A temporary
Feeling
But rather
Just an object
Of my gaze
Into the distance
My Juvenile Dreams
It wasn’t what
It seems
But my expectations
Always
Swing
Wildly
With hope
And fervor
But those dreams
Somehow just pass
Away without a sound
Into the life
That is
Today
Correctly Incorrect
I was not
Certain
It was the right
Decision
Within the moment
Of the correct
Vision
Instead
A incorrect
Goal
Was set
From the onset
To now
Furtive Drinks
We snuck
Out the back
With no one looking
Furtive drinks
Was what our minds
Were cooking
So in that moment
We disappeared
Until the night
Was darker
Than the deepest grey
And then our drinks
Were on the way
Lazy Fanatics
Lazy fanatics
Wait for the words
Rather than analytics
To make the judgement call
About what to believe
There is but a small hope
That laziness will be rebuked
Someday soon
The lazy fanatics
Will have their debts
Come due
A Spurious Library
A whole world
Constructed
From the falsities
At the seems
What seems real
Is less than certain
These times
So enjoy what is
And let it go
The Ladybug Effect
It was a fast
Setting
Into what I now know
As the ladybug effect
The small spotted
Being landing on my hand
I admired the simple beauty
That I can’t quite understand
So I wrapped my mind
Around the moment at hand
And began to wonder
Of a much more wonderful world
Than the one where I
Currently stand
Superb Rain
It was a rain
That left a chill
In my soul
As the feet walked
Over my heart
I could hear
The ending notes
From a busted
Speaker
And out my breathe went
Away with the world
I hurled it out
Into the cold
A Cup of Songwriting 