Straight lines of mint on county line roads
Staring out seeing dark tree shadows
Making their ways under sprinklers cold
Grass with a golden glow
Waiting the next rainfall or evening glisten
Animals waiting for exceptions
To sneak in under evening light protections
I see the evening run light rails
Hollering trains understated call hails
We wait the train coming out bustling
Heading winds with certain flow
The farms lull me to sleep
Eyes closed in summers keep
Back to Chicago
Toll road to the city strolls
Winds blowing street tires
Filled with air pushing forward
The trips become a frequent chore
We open doors to adjust leather seats
Broken in and ripped
Hand smoked heat from summer shores
Semis headed off to 94
As we head for Lakeshore
Same city
Same sound
Familiar from the skyline to the broken ground
Chicago
My first city
Lake Michigan shores
We head back once more
Pack up the luggage
Keep a straight face
Back on the road
A musicians pace
Don’t take anything too close
Keep a little distance from the heart
Getting all involved
Will only make this hard
Little words with great meaning
We have to keep on keeping
NYC away we go
Be back when autumn rolls
For another winter lays ahead
Summers gone in the Midwest
We make our way from Brooklyn
To South Bend and back again
Tours ahead
Songs to sing and play
We look forward to being back in Brooklyn
On a beautiful autumn day
The constant race
Of the human race
Coming face to face
With realities
Of what will Be
What will not be
Committed to a community
Of people breathing and sleeping
Communicating all sensations
Of creations
Temptations
Frustrations
Sharing with each other
The ideas of lovers
People hate
Other continue to love
We work well
On a Wednesday swell
Of the city
On the ground
In the NYC Town
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 smell of distant bleach
On fresh cleaned linens
This is the hotel room
That we will attempt to live in
–
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
How can dust exist in such plethora
Consuming humans in black filth
Penetrating apartments with stealth
What is the creator
The destroyer
Yet it plooms from every
Vehicle brimming black and burdened
From the backs of trucks
Tossed lightly into the air
To begin it journey
Destination unknown
Yet it flies just softly enough
Through the screens
Into our homes
Where it land
Collects friends
Possibly propagates
Until we have the motivation to cleanse
Purging our home from such creations
Out the shoot
And back into the circle
Of the dust migration
Rain falls
Hard as I can ever remember
My hair drips wet
Water balling up
In tiny circles
Falling on cold hands
As I reach
The apartment door
Small winding rivers
Create islands and shores
Staying dry is today’s chore
Blustering wind
And rain a little more
But I made it dry
To that apartment door
2 flights of stairs
2 more stairs
Who cares
I am counting
Legs burning
From constant churning
Click and trip
Hold myself on the
Red stick
That makes a railing
The no smoking sign above my head
Make it to the second floor
Then off to bed
How much damage could we prevent
If we just took the time to say hello
To our neighbors
Not to spy
But to just show that you want to know
How they are doing
I find it amazing that dangerous people
Can live normal lives
In normal houses
With normal neighbors
Quietly living
Yet amazed
That these monsters would not stick out
With a simple hello
One may be able to understand
Through a quick introduction
The heart of a man
People so dangerous
Unruley
Can live as a neighbor right next
To you and me
We are by nature now self governed
I look out for you
You look out for me
So it is now our responsiblity
To ask questions
Know who you live next to
What they do
Simple chat now and then
I offer that you may find
The sinister ways of a fellow
Discovered or remittted
With a simple hello
A Cup of Songwriting 