A great day to get out
My birthday is a day
To celebrate a new schools
Of voices rising up
In a dark time
So that in due time
We will have hope again
Such a coincidence
But on March 24th people rise
Up
To believe again
That we can all accomplish something
With the help is our fellow
Countrymen
Can the future be brighter
If the past is not reckoned
How to know where to go
If we do not understand
What we have done
My role in this nowness
Is key to the future
I have played my own role
Ambivalently
But with more passion we approach
The future
Don’t look down
Let go
Be bold
Favor the future
And face the truth
Today
Roll out the curtains
Fire up the engines
The moments among us
The friendships
Love and being
In the moment together
On a Wednesday
Brisk morning
In the heart of London
Where the isles are winding
To the heart of the city
We dine
One Monet moment
At a time
Wooden counters
With airy old jazz numbers
Fumbling along
With a reserved evening
In the heart of London
As a small fall
Of winter snow
Late in the year
A Spring
Of late arrival
Makes a day slowly
Move into the morning light
Of the London Streets
Sleepy
But there
On a Monday morning
Set up to recover
What is false
Is set under cover
Truth is relative
In modern times
A theory
A sign
Tired but true
What comes quickly
Goes too
Don’t wait to return
Educated from the ill-fated
Decisive ability to divide
Than to unite
A tenous copper pipe
Winding through our hearts
Off we go
The hills
Way above the city
Where the dense fog lay
Is a town
Sleepy and slow
With shadows over the town
Trees and roads
Wind carelessly
Through hills and valleys
We rest upon these hills
And regain
Strength
Spilled milk on the Red Line
Veins of white
Rush down the floor
“That ain’t mine”
The lady with two hats on yells
The man
Visibly exhausted with his head back
Is not one inch close to conscious
As the white pours through the isle
Pictures being snapped
A moment catches
The woman with the bike laughs
Late night Red Line
Public transportation
Strange spilled iterations
As the winds wind through
The tunnels
Below the streets
Of L.A.
A Cup of Songwriting 