The city has a way of changing you
Rearranging you
To make something new
And strange
To help you understand
The inner wirings
Of man
The Reaaranged
Reply
A Song to See Me Through
There is a song that can be played
Over a thousand times and
Never ring old or untrue
A song that is played at wedding times
A song that is by your side in difficult times
To help see you through
To jump on in pure celebrations
To lean on in times of sadness and frustration
There is a couple of chords
A melody so light and easy
That it is played for someone in a wedding gown
Or when you have to lay a loved one down
It can draw tears in the morning
As the sun becomes anew
Falling tears touching cheeks
As water trickles on grass
In the morning dew
There is a song
Played in these time of jubilation
But also in times of desperation
It is a song that celebrates life
But also reflects on what is right
What is right is that there is a song
A song that exists in all of us
That we must sing to each other
From my soul to you
So we can see each other through
The Infinite Race
There are days
When the end lays ahead
A clear finish
Instead of a benchmark
Days when my soul can rest easy
My mind I can appease
Yet on other days
There is this
Infinite tease being played on me
This mind wander
Aways second guessed
Slowing thoughts helps to
Slow emotions
That if I can just reach one goal
At a time
I don’t have to set every single one
In motion
So on these days I try to slow down
Realize even walking is an even pace
On this Infinite Race
The Tolling Bells in Brooklyn
The bells gently toll along Brooklyn Streets
Reminding us
That this city celebrates and grieves
Lives and breathes
From my studio
You hear the city life come to light
Lighting the sky
Filling the rooms
Walking down Manhattan Avenue
The fog wears heavy on the Manhattan Skyline
Tucked away from view
A sleepy afternoon
The memories of my life
Will be created here
Not in Paris or Tokyo
Rather just east of the Hudson
Learning to go from walking to runnin’
All under the ringing bells
of Brooklyn
If You Let the World
If you let the world
Serve you bad coffee
It most certainly will
Some may blast this as
Pretentious
But be cautious
As my case I present
–
I walked slowly
Rolling into the cafe
Dim lit on my way
Through Illinois and Iowa
I could just tell from the sight of her
It was not going to be easy
Uneasy was the feeling
Her stare into mine
But I had to wonder
Is it worth my time
To ask for something
Other than a glass of turpentine
–
I realized this rush was no longer
About coffee or personality
I was unsure if I was afraid
If I should abate my post
Where were these feelings
Overwhelming me
Like the holy ghost
–
She could tell I was uneasy
Pushed hard for me to move on
In a quick minute my mind had reacted
I was going to let her
Her
Win
I was not going to step out of line
I would rather walk away disgruntled
Than to let her get her energy infused to mine
–
As I walked away and the next customer approached
After I was dismally reproached
In such light and airy way she won her way
Exacting my energy from my eyes I would say
–
I opened the door for my fail grandeur
She managed her own will on mine
I was let down
But I soon learned in the quickness of time
It is with certainty
That I can speak certainly
If I do not speak certainly
Than uncertainty will belittle my will
This will leave my ego and soul ill filled
So when the world attempts to push you down
From a simple coffee – blurred old brown
Don’t let the light be pushed away
Sometimes the light is needed
Confidence displayed
The world will accept you
And not push you back
Instead of slowly whimpering
“I’ll just drink my coffee black”
The Little
The smallest amount of time
Of distance
From start to finish
From beginning to end
Fathering mile
To resting place
Over 3,000 miles on the earths face
We begin with a push
Knowing full well the end lies
Far far ahead
But we push on
For me
Through poems and songs
From sea to shining sea
From pale white to vivid blue
We see our journeys through
From the boroughs of the city
To the far west LA
Eternal summer fitting
A journey that teaches us to open
Rather than close
To grow
In what you learn
And what you know
The Border at 2 AM
El Paso at 2 AM
The energy of a border thin
Passing through lights on the horizon
Highways
Vagabonds
The overwhelming feeling
Of people who have made their way
Over into the USA
A Night in Brooklyn
“I will FUCKING KILL YOU”
The words bellow from the belly
Of the loosely dressed man
On Manhattan Ave
Across from Manhattan Inn
Enough vigor and resolute
To carry the words to my own
Windowsill
I crept to the window
The man seemed unwell
Ill
I couldn’t make it out the clear
Words strung about a 100 bill
–
“Why don’t you come over here”
“See who the real man is”
The street lights illuminate his
Contorted face
I pull back from the window screen
He glances in my direction
As he walks towards Manhattan Ave.
And Nassau intersection
–
I am fully engaged at this point
This rage within this man
Has the whole neighborhood up at
2 AM
–
Cars rumble past blurring
What was said
What was heard
I could only faintly here but a word
All this rage and anger
Over a C note
On that note I better get back to bed
–
Whatever he had said
It was life in the form of entertainment
I am not upset from the loss of sleep
Just tired
Whatever kept that man up
Had really shook him
On just another night
In Brooklyn
Thin Nights
The late night salute
4 AM
Late night eyes
To boot
We dance with our technology
Until the wee hours
Entangled in a web
On a web
Every last fiber in my head
Connected
Needing the next moment
I own it
This is the way I spend the hours
Working
Trying to connect the un connectable
While my head is full
Eyes bloodshot and wide
Hair frayed
Dismayed
Until my head is laid
This is the routine
I try to break out
But something new is always breaking in
There is no loss no win
Just spending every last hour
Until the night runs thin
The Bread Shop Stop
The scent of change
Came at 4 AM
I rolled over in my bed
“When was the last time
I smelled the fresh bread”
At this point I was completely
In my head
I knew the change was coming
The bakery was on its way out
I still had one small shriveled doubt
Maybe the planned buyout
Was not as good of a plan
They would develop a alternate route
As I lay awake
Thinking
It had been at least a week
So I cracked the curtain to take
A quick peek
The burnt carmel building
Was at a complete standstill
I could see this from
My windowsill
Never again would the smell of
Fresh bread bellow
Down Manhattan Avenue
It was a nice offset to bus exhaust
But now it is lost
Lost
Gone
I am new here
I own that I have very airy feelings
Where others die-cast old love
Would feel it in there hearts much above
I can remember
When my wife and I stopped in
Knocked on the door
A man came out from within
Gave him a 5 spot and
Us a loaf
We stood on the corner
Eating it whole
The memory was the brightest
Of the few short lived time
But the old place is gone
Make way for the condos
Pack it up and move on
A Cup of Songwriting 