Continual postage
Send me on my way
Held back
Deferred another day
What can send me out
Into the world
Hurled out with no precise measure
Regardless of challenges or pleasures
This will be my postage
Paid upon sending
I have paid it due
For once my stamp is applied
I must see myself through
We all sit around a fluorescent fire
Comforted by being side by side
Yet in a complete new world
Each of our minds
Has gone to find
Together we are in physicality
But in reality
We could not be farther apart
So we watch our fires
Burning in our hands
Selfish held plans
A new sense of community is born
From the hand held fires
That burn all night long
Separating us from
Dusk to dawn
The purpose behind
The green outside
In a winter morning
Simple prose upon warming
Keep inspiration flowing
The more you make
It’s yields keep growing
So at 9:20 AM
Hoping for a new set
Of inspiration
Looking for new adventures of writing
Looking low
Hoping the ideas are not hiding
I let my fingers and mind go
And this is what it has to behold
The risk of the situation
At hand
Money, life, time, love
Put on the line
Inhibitions to the wind
But sometimes I way awake
In the early hours of the morning
Wondering
Restrained
Breathing
As the light turn out to on
From black to the palest of blues
Have I done the right thing
For me
For you
One can only hold their breathe so long
Before the body reacts
I have to get some sleep
Find a way to relax
But somehow I have grown to love this life
Uncertainty abounding
There is something romantic
Not knowing where the next paycheck is found
So I close my eyes and count to 10
And I slowly fall asleep again
I don’t wish for much this year
Just good luck to take for next year
Going to need it as I look down the line
Can see a lot atop the mountain in Christmastime
I have peaked from a valley
Not to be underwhelmed with what lays ahead
Sometimes I see more mountains
That lay out over the riverbed
But one foot in front of the other keeps me going
Keeps us going
I try to make sense of this journey sometimes
Is it a worthless novel ride
With no beginning and no finish
Peoples salacious appetites
To consume what is finished
No care for time, matter, or commitment
So crude and raw
Yet the creative process draws on this all
Creation with no expectation
Give in hopes of smiles in exchange
So this year I ask not for riches or gifts
Rather that one of these songs we wrote
Can lie amongst the greatest hits
Building rows
Of three letter prose
Steady up
And steady grows
Sunday Mornings wane lightly
Just enough momentum
To get flying
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner
In the midst of a mild winter
Growing up
But not growing old
This is how the week
Slowly lulls me back
Ready to begin
Again
Barring my specialized field
Ups and downs
From town to town
The inconsistent yield
Making my mind weathered thin
Confused from the state I am in
Suit ties and holiday parties
Mind wandering
I have put to test my net worth
On the field of song
For what it’s worth
Money comes and goes and
Slides through the holes in my clothes
Said a singer of great prose
I hold on to where the world goes
Underwhelmed by humanities desire
For love of art and thinking higher
With lost love
Heart wrenched and hammered
But we give all we have
To try to escape
The new standard
Continual manifestation
The contiguous creation
I have nothing but these notes
Floating from my soul
Out, up, filling the sky
And vacant holes
Less my life of possessions
Made through rhetorical confessions
Of undone music sessions
I hold not many
Nor own none
So these musical hulls
Owned in my own
Finished writing
I see my life flash like pink lightening
This life demands simple pleasures
And I take my happiness from that
The one and only measure
What can I do
Seeing the beginning hrough
What looked like a simple task
Revealed a challenging mask
What I now must ask
What is the drive of a dream
Driving, pushing, ripping with steam
When steam is less of a stream
A trickle slowly flowing
Regrouping a new batch of fury
When it is needed in such a hurry
I knew that challenges would come up
Disrupt my path of commitment
Inner sentiment rattled
In an industry of noise and clatter
Struggling to find what matters
What is clear and concise
Hold on to notes more precise
A harmony that unites
Rather than divides
The stories coming from other story tellers
Tell the same story as mine
In a world less than divine
Struggles and distractions are what they find
I see the same hopes and failures
Hoping for grit to set sail
I thought I knew what was dedication
The summation of creation by mean of constants
Recurring events
A passive attempt at making myself something
But life has taught me a new life of dedication
What is the daily commitment to a lack of procrastination
The blood tears sweat of daily motivation
Reckless abandonment of other pursuits
Caring for every moment
Every move
Dedication has a new life in my eyes
Taking every moment in time
As a crucial chance to invite new challenges
Looking back I truly did not know dedication
It was a pretty word used for protection
From a true lack of focused determination
But as I grow we realize
What is true dedication
A Cup of Songwriting 