Swat at the Sun

Fear will not overcome

Truth, hope, love

Can not come undone

Swat at the sun

Sit and suck your thumb

Hopes of fear

Small minds have

Truly will never overcome

 

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De-Complicate Me Please

Complicated questions

On complicated days

Complicated thoughts

On complicated days

De-complicate me please

Set my uneasy thoughts at ease

Soon I will smell an autumn

New York City breeze

McCarren Park through the trees

De-complicate my fall

In the city

So I can enjoy the beauty

Of the pretty city

Short Lines

How many words can fit in this line

So many life experiences

In so little time

Underlined by growth

Participation

In the whole world

As a congregation

To sum up the last weeks adventures

I would have to surrender some details

Only focus on what come initially

Practically rather than brilliantly

I have flown over the ocean

Swam in the French Rivera

Been pummeled by rain

Been in a plane scared

Taken a train

Halfway across Europe

Eaten dinner out of small tin cups

Watch sunsets over the Mediterranean Sea

Seen things

I probably shouldn’t have seen

Watch a double rainbow extend over the mountains

While lovers kissed

Made friends

In true simpleness

Had conversations well past the finish line

Share a romance well past my time

All of these images

Are hard to fit in the lines

But I try

As the world changes my eyes

All things constant under the wool sky

Sympathetic Inflections

I am no controlled spirit

Untamed and overgrown

My emotions can be so

Easily swung

Not the words that I am

Proud of

Not in pride am I congested

When I am over zealous

My heart can be to little

Protected

How is it that the same tricks

With new names

Can catch a heart beat

All the same

If I could only go under cover

Into my own deepest detections

Pull out the weakest of

Sympathetic

Inflections

So rather than pick up

The pieces from hopes unmet

I could let my heart down easy

Lay it to rest gentle

While it’s quiet on the set

However my heart will wrestle me

At every turn

Up and down

It’s always involved

Every choice

All around

The Great Pressure

How is the brain

Wired in such a way

That even simple tasks

Under great pressure

Can seem so unachievable

So distant

Out of control

How is it that ideas

Thoughts and motions

Can move my head

In evening rest

To stay awake all night

To turn left and right

So irritable the mind can be

When the pressure is turned high

On me

The Tolling Bells in Brooklyn

The bells gently toll along Brooklyn Streets

Reminding us

That this city celebrates and grieves

Lives and breathes

From my studio

You hear the city life come to light

Lighting the sky

Filling the rooms

Walking down Manhattan Avenue

The fog wears heavy on the Manhattan Skyline

Tucked away from view

A sleepy afternoon

The memories of my life

Will be created here

Not in Paris or Tokyo

Rather just east of the Hudson

Learning to go from walking to runnin’

All under the ringing bells

of Brooklyn

A Night in Brooklyn

“I will FUCKING KILL YOU”

The words bellow from the belly

Of the loosely dressed man

On Manhattan Ave

Across from Manhattan Inn

Enough vigor and resolute

To carry the words to my own

Windowsill

I crept to the window

The man seemed unwell

Ill

I couldn’t make it out the clear

Words strung about a 100 bill

“Why don’t you come over here”

“See who the real man is”

The street lights illuminate his

Contorted face

I pull back from the window screen

He glances in my direction

As he walks towards Manhattan Ave.

And Nassau intersection

I am fully engaged at this point

This rage within this man

Has the whole neighborhood up at

2 AM

Cars rumble past blurring

What was said

What was heard

I could only faintly here but a word

All this rage and anger

Over a C note

On that note I better get back to bed

Whatever he had said

It was life in the form of entertainment

I am not upset from the loss of sleep

Just tired

Whatever kept that man up

Had really shook him

On just another night

In Brooklyn

A Kiss of Rushing Waves

The webs we weave

The dreams we chase

Unchaste and yet true

At first we were revered as outcasts

Not sure of the way

Decisions would see us through

We made a life in the city

Tried to keep our heads

Above the rushing waves

Staved off by a blissful kiss

Sea myst

Over our eyes

We saw the world

Around which we realized

That staying put

Was no option

No higher calling

Even when the walls

The dream itself

Was falling

We see it through

Another night spent

Late night chatter

Even thought nothing was really

The matter

We see it through

Me and you

The Commodity of Space

Thank God for public transportation

This revelation

Is one of the finest gems

The beauty of the capital of the nation

We are able to move swiftly

Through station

Feet connected to floors

Cold and eternally soaked

To the floorboards of the railcars

A collective quiet continuum

Running from face to face

Some disinterested

Wearing discontent well on their face

Underneath the city

There is a currency of space

Being given and taken

Awarded and mistaken

The sole private goal

Of a seat on a reasonable Subway

Some would just rather pay

Because there is always the lingering

Unreasonable chance

That the cart is filled in advance

But we stagger on

With the commidty of space low

Take it slow

Get on the train

Pull away,

Go

Cabbage and The Uncomfort of Life

I didn’t want to do it

I guess I kind of had to do it

Shit we do to make it through

Renting out half the space

The rat race isn’t even

Half way through

The smell of cabbage in the morning

Warning that the uncomfort of life

Is seeping through

It wild the way we hustle

People bustle

Plan for the next month

Once again feeling uncomfortable

But I guess in a city

Where rules are only enforced

Rather than exist

This small task I complete

To make it through the month

Cause if not I call it quits

And back on the road I’ll be

With only half my wits

I’m not running some grand hotel

Not even a bed and breakfast

Just trying to make time with no roomates pass

The hosting seemed to be the only option

In a city

Where the Attorney General

Might be hot for me

But I guess I’m damned if I do

Damned if I don’t

It’s New York City

The only answer I can not give

Is

I won’t