I cry cowardly over my leather shoes
The moan of hateful speech
Beacons a new wrath
The exotic clover has grown
Dried up and shriveled
Bequeathed
For the next generation
A sensational generation
My hope and dream
So I do my part in planting hope and optimism
Even in this world of ever deep division
Our hopes and dreams
Bequeathed from our fathers and mothers
Have been squandered away
On cheap things
The rally cry of the tired
A worthy cause flamed out with vigor
Passing floating rolling
I have tried
To do good
Good to be undone
So much has to rely on a rally cry
When your tired
And lonely
Not alone
You feel sad
Disconnected from the world
How did it work out not the way it was
All planned
A plane in flight unmanned
The plane now is in the final descent
It will land
How
Unknown
But through all of this
I
We
Have grown
Grown up
So here we come
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
September
The city sways easy in Autumn leaves
Until it will soon be our time to leave
Non brokered life decisions
Going broke
With entitlements given
We hope upon life grandeur
The vestments of blessings
Hopefully lay ahead
Life uncertain
Is better than certain
Mentally dead
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
Guns
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
Cecil the Lion was slain
By nothing more than a human stain
Utmost disrespect paid
In each US dollar
Held all the locals
By the fabric of their collar
To get his intended target
He came prepared with padded pocket
I could barely stand to hear it
While he enjoyed to watch it
It is an unfortunate play
A game of intended consequence
Now we have one more reckless action
To answer for
It makes the honor of being American
Feel more destined to sicken me
Than free me
We now wear another badge of recklessness
Story of money paid for another nations trophy
Coldly executed
Lured out and destroyed
This making a living plucking plaque
Pleases himself with the attack
Of a icon
A symbol
Go ahead and cash it in your criminal
Let the fluorescent lights of your office
Offer a scathing reminder
That no bleach can undue
Hang your trophy on the shelf
But please never forgive yourself
A Burgeon of Beauty
Holding hands on a Friday night
Been a long time
But time has not stop us
From feeling alright
Long nights away
From each others side
Dark highways have no way
Of holding you tight
Then comes sickness
Challenges ensue
Conversations float from silly
To the serious
And seriously overdue
In life there is always exchanges
Love and time
For money and statue
Little do we see the hard earned love
Behind the golden statues
The giving hands
Can only give so may gifts
Tonight we hold each other
Closer than before
Loneliness melts
Falling off
Feeling grief no more
It’s a silent seed of love
That we maintain
In a life of give and take
Under the weight and strain
A single bird flies down Manhattan Avenue
2 wings flapping strong in the wind
Gentle acceleration
Calling out lightly at 6 AM
Such stillness can exist in the city
High hitting trains come to a stop
To see this small bird perched atop
The brownstones of Brooklyn
Resting its wings
To begin it’s ritual sing
Lighten the roads with laughter
The clanking of iron clad walls
Retracted
Open for business now
Seemingly attractive
Deliveries on time and delayed
Now I rush out the door
To see the bird fly away
If you let the world
Serve you bad coffee
It most certainly will
Some may blast this as
Pretentious
But be cautious
As my case I present
–
I walked slowly
Rolling into the cafe
Dim lit on my way
Through Illinois and Iowa
I could just tell from the sight of her
It was not going to be easy
Uneasy was the feeling
Her stare into mine
But I had to wonder
Is it worth my time
To ask for something
Other than a glass of turpentine
–
I realized this rush was no longer
About coffee or personality
I was unsure if I was afraid
If I should abate my post
Where were these feelings
Overwhelming me
Like the holy ghost
–
She could tell I was uneasy
Pushed hard for me to move on
In a quick minute my mind had reacted
I was going to let her
Her
Win
I was not going to step out of line
I would rather walk away disgruntled
Than to let her get her energy infused to mine
–
As I walked away and the next customer approached
After I was dismally reproached
In such light and airy way she won her way
Exacting my energy from my eyes I would say
–
I opened the door for my fail grandeur
She managed her own will on mine
I was let down
But I soon learned in the quickness of time
It is with certainty
That I can speak certainly
If I do not speak certainly
Than uncertainty will belittle my will
This will leave my ego and soul ill filled
So when the world attempts to push you down
From a simple coffee – blurred old brown
Don’t let the light be pushed away
Sometimes the light is needed
Confidence displayed
The world will accept you
And not push you back
Instead of slowly whimpering
“I’ll just drink my coffee black”
The time it takes
For one simple flake
To make its way
Down the streets of New York
Falling carelessly to the ground
Over the Empire State
Shoveling below
Cracking sound
Filling the streets with heavy
Steady and steady
Falling so hard
I can barely make out
One World Trade
In a storm for the ages
Barren isles of food in the store
We bear down the hatches
And get ready
For just a little more
A Cup of Songwriting 