I’d Rather be Lying 

I’d rather be lying than say it

The city can frustrate 

Illustrate the non city perks

In Manhattan on a hot summer spurt

Oak tables decorated elaborately

Tightly held collars creased with summer heat

In the subways 

Not a getaway as much as an oven

Leaves my mind wandering

Of the lakes outside the Midwest

Only too relinquish my summer request

For now I tango with 90 in New York City

Trying to keep cool in the shade

Of 180 10th street

Stay inside to supercedes the heat

There are times I would rather be 

On the lakes of the great state

Than on the city streets

The Sensitivity of Progress

To hold or let go

To live

Or grow old

We shoulder these decisions

In what I learn

What I know

The sensitivity of progress

Can be held up

Reset

Regress

If proper attention is not paid

To forward motion

And progress

I obsess

About the shape my mind

Creates

The inner monologue

That projects my final epilogue

“My journey will never get easier”

To a stranger I said

He quickly replied with no fetter

“True, but we only get better”

Joy: The Elastic Life

Oh the joy of redemption

To give life a exultant expression

When it pushes you to the end

Past the point of a simple bend

To the breaking convex

Not easy but rather complex

It gives back

One small ounce

To help push the mind

From the weathered mounds

The joy that can be felt

When life tries to help you out

Picks you up a bit

After seeing you almost drown

I am happy for these days

To be enjoyed and endured

To see a light in the woods

When all of life seemed unsure

Mantra

The harder we try to stay the same

The tougher the pull to let go

Higher stakes to move on

Infinite uncertainty of moving along

The wrong choice is to hold on

To memories

That are full of childhood

And summer lawns

We leave

And the clock still carries on

We make like water

Flowing through life without knowing

Whether each decision is right or wrong

I call this our life song

We may not know the tune

But we carry along

We have learned to let go

Of people, places, and things

To see what the new morning will bring

Sing in new light

Holding hands and feeling alright 

This is my mantra tonight

Blindly Foster the Bottom Line

The ridiculous news to report

Healthcare says it wants to hike rates

It was ill prepared

For how ‘sick’ the new customers are

This made my stomach turn

A giant corporate entity

Does not even know the US people

That it serves

Serving up new rates is what

They want to do

They don’t care to care for anyone

Other than themselves

No soft word can put this injustice down

We pay companies

That don’t want to care for anyone

That doesn’t foster the bottom line

Mother Theresa said she saw

The worst of poverty in the US

And we try to make changes

With corporate billions that don’t want to care

For the sick and elderly

Surely they have capitalized on our culture

With no intent to give back

Rather sneak a little more

We must understand that people are sick

Sick and tired

And it is our calling to care

So that we in turn can be cared for

It makes me sick

To see the headlines

That healthcare officials

Had no idea how sick people really are

They should cut a vacation and do something for once

Take care of the US people

A Family Reality 

This may be a little heavy

I will try to keep my hand steady

I just wanted to inquire

Not for me

But for the others around me

Has your mind been 

Assaulted by thoughts of suicide

As my father 

I know we have never fallen too far

From the tree

My brothers and I

We struggle with life’s

Pull and subside

But I wonder if we 

Have all struggled together

The same feeling from the same

Family line

Somehow if we struggle together

It makes it seem 

Alright

Sweating Souls

Love makes summer seem

Soft and seemingly subtle

Keeps the air

From sweating my soul

Hands touch hands

Cheering in splashes

Crashing soft on the shores of

The ocean

Winds of sands blown

On the southern beaches of

Virginia

8 hours from home

For it is in Love

That we are truly never

Alone

Low Flying Bird

There is no final dance

No significant closing chance

Understated

Undermined

Love and Passion

Just takes a bit of time

No looking toward the sky

For a fulfilling sign

I stretch the curtains

Of my wandering mind

I refuse to let go

Claiming there is a closing time

In my mind the scene changes

Arranges the lines around me

I hear that the weary word

From the wings of a low flying bird

Flapping wings unheard

We bend at the knee

To touch the ground cold

As I maintain my posture

But am getting old

There is no final dance

No closing notes

I will not hang my life work

On that whimsical hope