Tag Archives: Avaition

Intermitten the Skies

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The clock hands read the time

I search for subtleties and easy rhyme

Ideas created, lost, and forgotten

Are on my mind

Streets filled with afternoon light

Thoughts flow intermittent the skies

Rhetorical questions

Repetitious in their nature

Some thought will find me

Grab me

Then forgotten it has become

It is in my lazy procedure

I wrap my mind around signs

Posts, lamps, and lights

However I try to find

The original thought of mine

With no luck I proceed

To write new poems

Of unsung ideas

And forgotten seeds

 

–

 

I always seem to forget great ideas before I write them down. I seem to think that I can commit them to my failing memory – content with my attempts, then move on. Only to find out the next day, that those thoughts and inspirations have all but vanished. Leaving me at my desk looking for inspiration, so on some days my inspiration is the ideas lost among the other things in my life. Cheers and have a great day. ~N

 

 

The Empire Sun

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Under the Empire sun

The city resets in the evening

Continual receiving

Thick lines run blurred into the night

 

The world centers herself

Around the NYC shelves

From Jackson Heights

To the Bushwick and Greenpoint

 

We held hands

As we felts our way

Through a city heralding a

Skyline

Heralding

The sun

 

We blink our eyes

Rub them dry

To see the Empire sun

Settle over the western sky

 

Over the east river

We await

Waiting

For yet another day

 

Distant Bleach

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The smell of distant bleach

On fresh cleaned linens

This is the hotel room

That we will attempt to live in

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Faded carpets with old stains

Attempts to clean them

Have obviously gone in vain

–

Paisley and plaid hung drapery

Old recliners

While we make our escape

From the city

–

Old cigarette stains

Outside the door

From someone long before

–

Shower curtains white

Fluffy and snug

With clean towels hung

Next to the rug

–

Life lived in hotel rooms

Find a different way

Of saying hello

Enjoy your stay

Hails the Sun

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The skyline hails the sun
In a stretch upwards
Calling the blue from the moon
Orange flecks gold over the estuary arm
Setting for the even
The empire reaches high and mighty
As the east river ferry barrels through
The wind stricken water
The brooklyn bridge reaches Manhattan
Strong and grounded
As planes launch from the ground
One world trade as new as a baby in the sky
Brooklyn in the back
Heralding the spring night
The rocks
Tucked with miss on the Brooklyn beach
On a Friday night
In New York City

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I Fear the Mold

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I fear the mold

The uniformity theory

Of stripping conscious dignity

Of the you

Me

Pushing us forward

Never to look back

A pack of wolves

Now breathing down

My back

I fear the mass productions

Facilities

Consistency is key

Holding the soul back

From being free

I understand

Accommodating the masses

But with accommodation

Comes subtle backlashes

Loss of autonomy

Fostering dependancy

I look up

See arrows pointing ahead

I can’t help but wonder

If I’d be

Better off

Dead

 

Keeping the I can

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Keeping the I can
In a world of can’t
Can lead the mislead
Push the final pedal down
Until the spring rose is dead

It is important
To believe in what you can’t
That someday you can
Be where you want
The belief
Rather than stricken grief
Must grow

People won’t think twice before
The remind you once more
That you have never done
This before
Heed only to your own calling
Hold yourself up
From falling

Let hope and belief grow
Let it take you were you want to go
Raining on summer plants
Thirst quenching with water
For your soul will grow
Just like a spring plant
When you say you can
In a world of can’t

Crazy Donna

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You must go to Joey’s and get the clams

With her short hair and her deep eyes

Italian blood

But you know that story about Joey

She sighs

If he gets cheap and doesn’t give you the fresh

Flour bread

Let him know

Crazy Donna from Cookie Box

Said

“He’s dead!”

We spent the morning chatting

In the gym

On the stationary bike

She was straight out of

The godfather

Or Sopranos

I was so much intrigued

Her stories had my mind fatigued

These stories that loom on these streets

You must take time to listen

To stories of the pre-madonna

and the truely gritty

All float above the belts

Of mouths

In New York City

Sky Above

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We work hard to keep the dirt out
Hands black from wiping
Our hearts exhausted from working
The place had to be clean
It was oh so concerning
This foreign place is now our home
A year we will commit
To making out here
Alone
It starts with clean sheets
A soft pillow and a bed
Find a place to rest your head
We clean it into a home
A place of rest and peace
To be quiet and alone
In a city that values it’s silence
More than money or time
Working hard and toeing the line
We will pass through good seasons
And bad
Happy and sad
Me and my love
Alone under the sky above

Fallen Mind

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Lay me down

So I can hold you

Feel you

Breathe you in

My Fallen mind

Is reeling

Hoping

To keep this in

World around

Is not helping

Or holding

These paper walls are thin

 

The other side

It is a hurry

A worry

What will

Tell the length of sin

Matters of the heart

Caring passion

Some thin skin

Holding hands

We can make it

Break it

Another life

Will come back again