Feel the rush
Concave up
Increasing in speed
Thrust and direction
As we subject
Our interjection
We rely on each other
That is how it is
And how it has to be
Subject to none
And discount free
Discount Free
Reply
Fatal Direction
Enter fear and dismay
Enter the feelings of dissarray
Collapsing feeling of connection
Pushing me back in my fatal direction
I ask questions for circumstance
Happenstance of my direction
I fall on flat notes of musical indecision
Lacking a true rhythm section
We select naturally
What happens supernaturally
And exit stronger men
Full Tone Tight
Take it to heart
From back to start
Around the corner
Give her your heart
Avoid your head
Thoughts storms ahead
Ask questions lightly
Embrace full tone tight
Future callings
Seem uneasy ahead
The fallen words
Run your thoughts dead
Sea foam pillows
Under the Michigan willows
We fall surrendered
Under warmness tender
Evening Light Protection
Straight lines of mint on county line roads
Staring out seeing dark tree shadows
Making their ways under sprinklers cold
Grass with a golden glow
Waiting the next rainfall or evening glisten
Animals waiting for exceptions
To sneak in under evening light protections
I see the evening run light rails
Hollering trains understated call hails
We wait the train coming out bustling
Heading winds with certain flow
The farms lull me to sleep
Eyes closed in summers keep
Hand Smoked Heat
Back to Chicago
Toll road to the city strolls
Winds blowing street tires
Filled with air pushing forward
The trips become a frequent chore
We open doors to adjust leather seats
Broken in and ripped
Hand smoked heat from summer shores
Semis headed off to 94
As we head for Lakeshore
Same city
Same sound
Familiar from the skyline to the broken ground
Chicago
My first city
Lake Michigan shores
We head back once more
Paving Paths of Uncertainty
From the bugs
To the webs
Rolling dust up
Cleaning the house
On a small Indiana farm
Crawling out
Yearning
Falling out
Contemplating the rearranging
The possessions I own
Giving up
Learning to let go
So we can roll down the road
From NY to IN
Paving paths of uncertainty
Getting older will certainly
Make me wonder about the future
What it holds
And how to just let go
Off the Cusp
Rock and roll
Get ready to go
Living on the farm
Just east of
South Bend, IN
The nights we pull
Playing bass going low
Making coffee with the morning
Singing songs
All heard and warming
92 degrees
No sight of water or seas
Here in Indiana
Summers warming up
On the farm
Living just off the cusp
Goodbye to a Great
Goodbye to a great
Such beauty and grace
With one stroke of the hand made
Painting pictures of words
On a blank page
Homage and prayers
Thoughts and emotions
Go out to Maya Angelou
As she swims her way
Into the eternal ocean
All poets or writers aspire
To live life full
Full of inspiration
Admiration
Creation
To walk in footsteps that have gone before
Do homage to her craft
From one poem or a simple draft
We lost an eternal light in our short lives
But we are thankful for what she had
What she shared
She made us better
She cared
Inspiration she has set on fire
The more you create
The more you desire
I hope to be 1/10th of the person she was
I send a message out to sea
To Maya her love and example
Set us all a bit more
Free
Reminiscent and Familiar
Coffee and smoked salmon
Lingers in my mouth
I reach for the ignition of my car
Live lived with the simple pleasures
The caffeine
Protein
Keep me alive
Awake
For trips near and far
Reminiscent and familiar
I have learned each city
By the letters that spell the name
Some far off distant
Others very much the same
The dash must be 108
Indiana summer feels so hot today
The leather scorching to touch
I grab my seat belt
Roasted in the reflecting sun
I quickly pull my hand back
Take a deep breathe
Very close to home
Yet ever far away
As the sweat drips down my face
This Memorial Day
Transience the Commonplace
Transience the commonplace
It is the norm
In Brooklyn streets
Where people swarm
On Saturday night
Sunday evenings
We take part in these traditions
Going
Flowing
Rolling
As we make our way from place to place
Make our way out of Brooklyn
The next day
We will be back in Autumn soon
Under the NYC moon
Transient nights
Transient days
Transient travelers fill up
Fall out
And fill up again
We find ourselves amidst the flow
Going where the concrete goes
Back and forth
In between
We will miss the NYC scene
