Time for reflection
Stray away in all directions
Hold true
True to let go
On Sunday I owe this ode to you
Sweet coffee
How it has joined great minds
Connecting people in common time
Real time
The fruit of the coffee tree
In Brooklyn connecting lives
Is what it can be
But thank you coffee for today
Somehow you link people up
In a mysterious way
But it is all the same
On a Sunday
What can I ask
That has never been asked
What can be done
That I would never want undone
Hope, love, joy
Can not be disposed
Thrown out like toys
What can I give
That can never be taken away
Savored everyday
Let go
But not be forgotten
To let grow
Instead of going rotten
My hope is on the first
Letting go of the second
In a moment
I may stand corrected
But for now I hope
I dream
I give
I let go
The light passes through glass
Rigid at the top
Distorted unequal wobble
Of light through the bottle
Incandescent lit up flutter
Transparent empty
Filled and dashed away
Sips of cold water saved
Into the hot wash
Cracked plastic dry
On the table coop
In this coffee shop
–
The Brooklyn Cafe
Seven up hot drinks
Laughter
Tunes
Common swoons
While the coffee machine croons
To stiff business collars
And relaxed jackets
Soft sips
Furrowed brows
White tables decorated with coffe stain
Constant drone of the roaster
Light bean roasted
In the Brooklyn Cafe
–
The passage of time
Unearths the only healing
Sometimes
Maybe I thought I needed
Support when I needed growth
I needed to see less of me
At home
It just exposed some uneasy moments
Anger long since tucked away
I have it good
I’ll be the first to say
But when you give
Only to see love given away
Rejection some would say
Is less than understandable
I feel uncomfortable
In a space that is constricting
Binding and holding in place
Glued my feet in a fast race
Outpaced
What I realized
Of life’s lessons to learn
I could not have both
And what I needed
Was true growth
Well that was unexpected
Holidays full of cheer
Unfortunately not for me
This year
I spent the day alone
On a vast lake
Kicking stones
Cheap words were yelled
From my own mother dispelled
So there I was one hour later
All alone
Hours of walking
Trying to understand
What was just laid
To rest in my hands
Frantically grand
I work my foot into the sand
As I stand
Mist on my face
This is my new way of living
On Thanksgiving
To all a great American Holiday
It seems wierd to say
That there are not too many
Of these days on the calendar
A celebration of a family at large
In charge of food
To be with wonderful family
Friends and familiars
I relish the moment
Cheers to all the friends
Around the world
Time to take off
Give this Turkey a whirl
The rush
Of the thrust into
The world
Whether old
Or new
Timing right
Or the timing blown
We go
Drunk Thai food
Packing
And back on the road
Brooklyn on the road behind me
Passing through
And away
NYC bully the light of day
Packages to go
Bagels for the road
And go
Fresh roasted
And drank
The goods
–
A Cup of Songwriting 