Farewell and Hello
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Tag Archives: aviation
Spent my Last 5 Bucks
Spent my last five bucks
Not quite sure how I am going to get back
Evening lunch and quite pack
I am thinking of you
That is what helps me get through
The rough times that we have faced
Here and there
Not everyday is like today
But on someday’s I am left
With little to no change
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Spent my last five bucks
Times have gotten to be hard
River drying up
The spool has no more yarn
I cannot help but wonder
How we can make it through
Change in my hand
In my jean pocket
Of faded blue
–
Spent my last five bucks
Paychecks distance themselves
Somewhere in Michigan
Off of the old state road
North of the line
Making my way back home
I get back in the car and breathe
Some music will help the fear ease
On a summer day in late August
This is what I see
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Spent my last five bucks
Grabbing some gas and food
You will make it all alright
I will be back home soon
Silence
Silence
I crave silence
Reflective intuitive creative silence
No radio
Music
Talk
Instead
Silence
Time to decide
Time to listen to the silent guide
The pushing force
The calling from the inward soul
In the sky I look up
Nothing but the sound of a gas-powered engine
And the other cars around
It is not complete but quiet enough
The sound of the turning wheel
Pulling my thoughts apart
As husks on a corn peal
Looking for what might be underneath quick passing
What is the drive in me
What is the reason
I need silence to think
Think through decisions about the future
Decisions about the now
Am I doing alright
This will surely get me through tonight
I search for this answers this evening
Not on crowded streets or in a home
But in a car on a cool summer evening
With pure silence
The sound of air pushing through the ear canal
Creates a slow growing buzz
I may not know the answers
But I am searching for the cause
Upon reaching my destination the silence discontinues
Returning to the normal process of clicks and tones
All the things that fill up the normal home
But for one moment I could feel
My heart and soul in one great alliance
In that pure and simple moment
Of Silence
Barbaric Nature
Baffling word barbaric in nature
Wondering if what these words mean
Could have foreseen me in danger
Biting at every corner confused
Bemused with conjunction and function
These words have settled me amusing
Creating concrete facts I am using
Never the language I am abusing
Tyring to learn a new flow and rhyme
All to be done
Not just part time
Every day
Every line
I write
Comes a new idea a new inspirations
Condensation of the mind
And spirit
Upon the paper written
In my mind I hear it
The words fell off my fingers touching
Connecting each other puzzles solved
The simile resolved
I move on to contracted spirits
And to a path contingent
On the next line
The next phrase
For each word written
Is now where the sentence lays
The Daily Routine
Ah the challenge of keeping creativity alive in my life. As I am pulled to try and sell the art and the creations that have already occurred. It is hard sometimes to step back and try and let the creative juices be heard. So I sat down to try and document my daily routine of keeping creativity alive in my life. So here it is – enjoy!
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The daily routine
Wake up in the morning
Make sure to exercise
Work out the arms and the thighs
Get back and get cleaned up
Got to write and practice
Keep the routine up
3 or four hours later
I now sit at the compu-tater
Life’s lines complex yet defined
I make this no place to wine
Letting go on paper what must be done
Seemed like a good idea
Challenging and fun
Poems must be constructed daily
This challenges what I have to say
About beauty, art, and the progress of today
The challenge is not to conform
But to set a new aggressive norm
Creativity must be engaged often
Or else the course muscles will soften
Decay and leave your soul
Looking for someone else to enroll
The creative spirit can be fleeting and gone
So I must capture these spirits in songs
Poems, writings, and other means
Or else I will be left with nothing
Creativity gone and no job to boot
I look pretty bad now in a business suit
Full of aspirations are these writings
Even though my mind is rattled with distractions
I must be real and stay ahead
Better off here trying
Than creativity dead
Swollen Hands
Her heart has more love to give
Then I’ll ever know
Her heart has more love to give
And she’s growing old
–
Time can harden your heart
Break you apart
And turn it into sand
With weary eyes
And weathered lines
No one would understand
These eyes see the world
Felt the knife slide through
Her swollen hand
Call the birds
Forget yourself
Put your ambitions on the shelf
No way to live
Don’t ask but give
Breeding nothing but bitterness within
–
This heart has more love to give
Then I’ll ever know
This heart has more love to give
And we are growing old
–
When things get bad around you
Walls falling down too
I know what she’ll do
She will start again
With some new friends
A new life so far from the bends
Make her way
Cutting off the slack
Far away and never looking back
Then one day
She will turn and say
Things were never quite the same
She will know
That in her soul
Pain fades but never grows old
Overstay Your Welcome
Some dark shit – but hey we all have those days right? I am feeling the weight of overstaying my welcome and feel that I have to move on – so here it is.
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I waited to long you see
The walls are closing in on me
Not much left I can do
Not quite sure I can see it through
The rent is late
The man has to be paid
But I am short on pennies
Nothing easy about being a musician
Not gunna lie
Some days I wish I was a fat cat
Just laying around chasing rats
But what the sense in that
I have these fingers and these thoughts
It not something that I bought
Or try to sell
But when the whispers turn to yells
That is when the pain can swell
And swell
Turning you into something you are not
Making you turn your back
On something when it is quite alright
Why do it
Why go now
Just a couple bucks short got you down
There has to be a better way somehow
Life ain’t easy is the saying
But life has a way of displaying
This little cliché in a real way
It never makes sense until that one day
Then you look and say
Shit
These bills
How will I ever pay?
The Coals of Ambition
Can anyone tell me where this is going
I am not quite sure I follow
yet I am content to find out
there is no real place called home
not when living a life on the roam
for what might be better
yet sometimes much worse
my thoughts fumble as my mind wonders
internal rain
perpetual thunder
raking me across the coals of ambition
little did I know it would hold me ransom
these things that I was wishing
holding onto dearly as if the bible
these contemptuous desires should be convicted of liable
they have not given what was prescribed
empty bags straight out lied
and made me feel at home
in a bed of feathers
little did i know my mind it would teather
and hold down with uncertainty
but certainly
I will come out stronger on the other end
I once was a three
Now I am a ten
time to grow up
rather than start again
I will leave it here for tonight
what I said seems alright
I will fall fast asleep
until the the night is bright with
morning light
Hairline
I am trying to understand some of the things that seem to change as you grow older. I am not sure why I take interest in these things of vanity – but I do – good or bad. I don’t want to give away too much – enjoy!
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A Cup of Songwriting 