The old fears
Dried up tears
Move up
Move out
All the changes happen
In specific time
And moments
We remove ourselves
To see the grand scheme
By it doesn’t mean a thing
When your heart is torn
Mean a Thing
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Tag Archives: Arts
A Hope for Past Future
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
Spilled Milk on the Red Line
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.
Desperation of Desolation
The desperate times
Desperate measures
Come up with something good
A productive measure
In times worn thin
As the veil of light
Through the morning curtains
We have to continue to
Rely on food decisions
To set us right
Day to Be
The coming days to be
Letting go of what was familiar to
You and me
A city
A life
For bigger and better
Discoveries and journeys
Letting go
While others hold so tight
That they squeeze the life
Out of the joy
Thy love
And love left
It will be
Delays in Night
Delayed
Unfettered display
Of reckless disregard
On guard
Words with no meaning
Indecisive
Backward leaning
Back in the night
When the sun lies low
That is where the weak prosper
The forbidding go
Granite Stones
Cold
Underlining counters
With reflective site
Elbow cold
Down by my side
Granite stones
In suburban homes
This life we live
The truths we own
Lays on top
Of these granite stones
Aches and Pains
Aches and pains
Strange held hands
In a cold rain
Under red skies
Under falling leaves
In a lake
Not a sea
The aches and pains
Cities and lanes
Riding in the cars
Remain the same
Chaos Control
Let the trolls
Roll
Let the birds
Fly upon them
I am sick of lies
Sick of tails
Tired of being the end
Of the joke
Let the chaos control
Roll out
On the world
4 Minutes
In 4 minutes I will attempt
To write words
Strung together with
Some meaning
My eyes are stuck to the screen
Gleaming
Written in an attempt to say
What I have postponed along the way
Returning to ritual
Feels good
Yet not unusual
A Cup of Songwriting 