The slightest hesitation
Bound up in eternal
Procrastination
One moment later
Can be a true difference maker
When realizing what will be my mark
Leftover when I am through
Will I have waited
For some long awaited hopes
Or woken at dawn
To climb the morning ropes
Destiny has to relation
For those caught up
In hesitation
I have had this car for years
Made it through many laughs
Hard fought tears
Somehow these metal and plastic walls
Have converted into more of a hollowed hall
Celebration of years worked
Half worked
Double time
But when it starts to go south
Off the linear path
It’s hard to decide
When to let go
To let the old vessel
Stroll alone
Down the final road
No more strategy
No more money
It’s the end of the road
When can I decide
These hollowed halls
Have lived through thin truths
Thick lies
But in the end
Life goes on
It’s the memories not the material
That I will take from this world
Such a simple situation
Such great life lessons
Pulled up to the train
Running for a 12
When we needed 11
Car pulls up behind a young guy
Grabbed his bags
While we hustled running
He was slightly ahead
But moved worth slight delay
Made swift eye contact as we made our way
Running to the train with only seconds no delay
I realized the slowly fellow
Was left on the platform there
I can’t say why
The conductor moved with no delay
But it must have been the effort we displayed
Giving every ounce to make it in mere seconds
While the other fellow was left
Waiting for hours
Welcome aboard he said
I’ll take your tickets
You made it just in time
He said with a wiry smile
Go on ahead
And find a seat on the nearest isle
When I reflected on that moment I realized mere seconds were between me and the other guy
But the display of effort and quickness
Has a great deal to teach me about perception and life lessons
That in mere seconds hard work has shown it’s form
Viewed by the conductor
While the other gentlemen was left on the platform
–
You know I don’t eat that anymore
The smell of processed meats
Leaking through the cracked door
Orange yellow eggs smashed in
Not quite sure if it the slightest smell of plastic
That did me in
Logs of meat hammered out
Full of sodium bicarbonates
The thoughts just frustrates
But on Sunday mornings the family still enjoys
The processed meats
Made from recycled toys
No one will sing my song
Others create
Borrow or steal
But my voice sings my life story
It must be from my own lips
Sung
Creating context for understanding this mess
Owning these words whether they be of beauty
Or of restlessness
It is my mission to create my story
No other hands have created
This life of simple strands
Woven around complex webs
Of inner circle steps
So no one will push my pen
My life’s commitment to the end
To be committed and honest
So I can be fully created
Life, lived, created lines
Easy or frustrated
Alarm
Open
Wake
Doubt
Resilience
Resume
Clothes
Dress
Quiet
Instrument
Clock
Rehearse
Doubt
Wandering
Focus
Confidence
Practice
Practice
Practice
Alarm
Next
Instrument
Clock
Practice, tired, questions, confidence, excitement
Alarm
Food
Poetry
Exercise
Drive, Perform, Drive
Sleep
Repeat
Growing up
Under swollen skies
Making changes
In our parents eyes
Commitments made
Growing mistakes
We just have to do
Whatever it takes
I watch you grow
You watch me
We help each other stay
From as low as life
Can be
We wake up together
To see another day
Whether its the sun
Or the rain
We grew up under swollen skies
When the rain fell
It pulled the tears out of our eyes
Yet we pushed through
I get to see a new face
Through the rain anew
I am honored and proud
To be your husband
Under these dark rain clouds
Discount advice
Should not weight more than
A grain of rice
Be thought over
More than
The passing thoughts in flight
We do not subscribe
To your tele-vibe
Confide in your free laced advice
We create our own paths
From present to past
And we
Will live on
Enter fear and dismay
Enter the feelings of dissarray
Collapsing feeling of connection
Pushing me back in my fatal direction
I ask questions for circumstance
Happenstance of my direction
I fall on flat notes of musical indecision
Lacking a true rhythm section
We select naturally
What happens supernaturally
And exit stronger men
A Cup of Songwriting 