Back to Brooklyn

The smell of linens

Warmed hot in driers

Lamp post

Stuck with weekend fliers

Rusted out steel on buildings facade

Bustling traffic on Kenmare

I make my way to the Williamsburg Bridge

Over the eastern edge

And back to Brooklyn

No more than a bed

To call my own

The only options are rent

No hopes to own

So our time here is quick

Subtle and sweet

Seeing some familiar

Faces out on the street

The people still hustle

Just as I remember

Checking in 2 months past


The city sways easy in Autumn leaves

Until it will soon be our time to leave


With Love

I see the headlines

Death and violence

Run rampantly

The morning

I crack my eyes open

As the world bombards me

All this violence

Is all my eyes see

Violence for fame

Violence as a game

Violence on Social Media

Violence is what the media is feeding you

Or have we become more barbariac

In the way we live

Willing to do whatever it takes

Taking other lives

Even though it is not ours to give


So many guns

We fear each other now

More than the burning flame in the sky

The sun

Daughters and sons

We are all one of the above

We can not fate hate with hate

Rather with love

Unknowingly Unknown

A case of distracting news

One that one can not simply refuse

The future of art

Is held in the arms of one minds repose

Unknowingly unknown

Somehow the highest calling

Is called from a distant awning

The creation of art

To focus on filters

Rather than a focus in part

Somehow the filters of heard and unheard

Call out some higher prestige fallen

On a certain selection of words

The construction of words

All hail to the critics

It’s all pretty sick

A devastating form of salutation

Pounding into my mind

I hold back the gates



I learned from my mistakes

The best form of creation

Happens in pure refinement

In an attempt to fasten the muscles

To make a call to creation

A new creation in the making

Back in this town

We never grew up in

However we did live in

So this seems

With summers breeze

Lofty dreams

Four years ago

We grew up in


Although never in residence

In learning and patience

Great drives back

To Lakeshore 

And North Broadway

There once was a time and place

Where this felt like home

On a summers day

In Chicago

Perfusion of the Sociopath

The inconsolable sociopath

Taking note of what to destroy

Along the path

It is sad

That little can be done for such sadness

How can I reflect on my own faults

Weaknesses and shortcomings

Undone and left for incomplete

I wake in the morning

To refine the nimbleness of the fingers

Mind and stretch the soul

I will admit that my own weakness

Is that I can not slow down

Take hold

But if we search for only the shortcomings

Of one another

We will be sorely disappointed

None can claim perfection as a profession

Such naysayers can have such perfusion

A fusion feeding the needing soul

Passing through this life

Looking for the simple imperfections to hold on to

I pass over this

Wake up again and let it go to rest

There is only so much stress

I stay cool

Under the real life test

Elkhart’s Eternal Flame

Late night band practice in Goshen, IN led to a midnight drive to South Bend. Even at the late hour you can see the flame burning off of the highway in Elkhart. It reminds me of how that thing burns 24/7 and how we are filling it with every step that we take. So this is a short poem about where it all took me.


Elkhart’s Eternal Flame

Elkhart’s Eternal Flame

Lights my mind up every time

Drives me insane

The heap of garbage burning bright

The smell that seeps out

Lets you know something’s not right

Trash carving it’s way in Midwest trees

Coming from all over the land

From the mountains and the seas

Landfills in Indiana seem to run a plenty

Follow your nose and you will find

One, two, and oh so many

As with all trash it must be disposed

Where exactly it goes

I can’t say anyone really knows

But on a Tuesday night the flame glows

On highway 20 when you see it

You will know

Blue flickers orange pops red in too

Depending on where the wind blows

Is where all the scent blows to

Racing over fields and famers

Streams and trees

Through our nostrils

Into you and me

Into our lungs and through our livers

Into your soul giving you shivers

Into our blood

Through the water that we drink

Bubbling up through the faucets and the sinks

Shame should fill the hearts of the waste

But toss it in the trash

And don’t really face it

The next time you waste

All the trash that you disclaim

I may see it burning one day

In Elkhart’s Eternal Flame

Over Rated

This is a new song that I have been working on very diligently in the past couple of

weeks. It is about the pressures of always looking for the next best thing and

looking to the future in life – when really all you have to care about is going on

right in front of your eyes. This song will be on our next album out in late 2013.


I’m feeling so over rated

My life is so complicated

Not the best but I face it

These feelings are fresh

But I am jaded

Oh and I feel like I am going


And I feel like I want to be


I don’t want to write this song

Forget about tomorrow

If you want to live today

Forget about tomorrow

If you want to live today

If you want to live today

Remember what I say

My thoughts can be so relentless

You ‘bout gave up when I said this

Now that I know that you’re faded

Well I had to go but I waited

For you

Oh and I feel like we are going


And I feel like we are missing


And I don’t want to write this song

Forget about tomorrow

If you want to live today

Forget about tomorrow

If you want to live today

If you want to live today

Remember what I say