Three rats, Food Stamps, and the Opportunity of a Lifetime

I heard the little guys squealing through the night

What was I supposed to do

Nothing else I could do

I had to trap them

Get them out

I woke in the morning as I would any other

Dreading a certain task that

Lie in my certain future

However this was a task

I loathed

This is New York and I have a renter coming in later

So sometimes I just have to

Thrust each foot

One in front of the other

I peak around the corner to discover

Not one, or two

But three rats entangled in a sticky mess

A sweet concoction

A paste

Tieing mouths, feet, and bodies to the goo

They writhed, and gnawed, up and down

Breathing fast as they could

Little did I expect what I saw

But quickly I understood

It was a small family all stuck there

I have no soft spot for rats

But I did feel a bit queazy

And I do have a renter coming in this afternoon

So off they go

Somehow an article of ours had been entangled in the mess

So I slowly worked the chord out

While the rats writhed more and shouted

Their high pitched scream

This is not the city I had grown up to know

But here I am with gloved on

Trying to pull chords off rat family

Entangled on a board of sticky sweetness

Not quite sure how I got here

So I dispose of the rat family

Breathe slow

And return to my day

My wife wakes up

We talk about the rats

I was not excited about the conversation

But I had taken care of it

The next topic on our minds

Food Stamps

I never thought we were that bad off

But somehow

The rats, the rent, the life

It comes at a price

That we are just coming up a bit short of

So we talk briefly about opportunities to eat

To have more food

“Seems like we are perfect candidates”

“Yea” I respond

“I don’t see why not”

This is all to the setting of the biggest looming opportunity

We have ever had in our lives

We have dedicated our lives to our art

Somehow opportunities are sometimes presented

Rather than sought

So as I sit at the piano to rehearse

I realize

My life


As weird and dysfunctional as it can be

Makes sense


The Sweet Smell of Rejection

Nothing like the sweet smell of rejection in the morning

To receive the call an early warning

Its not the right fit but I wish you the best

But if you had to receive a grade you failed the test

Refreshed I see it in a morning sigh

No more than a simple rejuvenating sign

That more must be done to push forward

No looking back or retracting your hand

Giving my best out there I cannot look back

The evening lines have been drawn in the sand

Take a breath and begin again

This will seem to happen every now and again

I take it as a compliment

That the successful plans have been laid

I will not give into some cheap demands

To jump at their will fall upon their command

People look for something to fill their own void

All the while they hold stiff while creativity is destroyed

Looking for something to replace the old

Will make the fillers seem out of place and cold

Wet and waiting on the driveway of replacement

Taking what just comes along seems way to complacent

They want someone who will fit the mold

Casting away the unique and the wanderers

The fearless and the bold

For someone who does not mind to grow mold

Upon their creative gears and will simply listen to their peers

Me that I am not and surely never will be

What will ever become of me I guess I will wait and see

As for now I am content on my bed of worthlessness

It does not fear me to be alone out here calling

Much better than rich and my creative mind mauling me

I recluse back to come back stronger

Eager to fight again

Rejection is nothing more

Than a reason to start again

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!

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