Off goes 2016
A year of changes
Losses
Rearranging
A year of new
Shuffling out the old
Somehow I reflect on my own words
I have written
Some I left out in the cold
New words will come with time
Time to behold
Off Goes 2016
Reply
Tag Archives: instagram
Gather the Charades
Gather the charades
Words sassy and icky
Unbound from the sound
Of a letter passing through our mouths
A royal kettle cooking
New ingredients
Indecent
If your enemy of an enemy
Is your friend
How can we content each other
Strange bedfellows to follow
How can the world swallow
Such indifference and insensitive hopes
Let’s gather the charades
And know
That the words themselves
Are our hope
Bluster
Unsightly unseen
Mightily obscene
Gestures of language
Encourage
Discourage
Mean
I have an objection to such limits
Of language
Interpretation
My own county
Country
Nation
How did words slip from
Meaning to mere
Reference
Indifference
How can it go from direct
To indirect and casual
Trivial
Is that what we have become
Seeking the words that have already
Been sung
A light I hope will shed a new perspective
Hoping that small bits of peace injected
We can’t move forward with bluster of hate
Discriminate
We must move forward together
And together
We will stand STRONG
Recall the Way Out
If I could only recall the way out
The way in was much more difficult
But the easiest seems now whimsical
Overbearing
The thicket of bushes on the left
When we entered
The gargoyle on the right
We passed some rock walls as well
Or maybe not
But somehow
We ended up here
Lost and wandering
Altogether hopeless romantics
Stuck in a world of antics
Critics
Hopeful
Deadbeats
How did we end up here again
Should we start over
Not an option altogether
We had better hope the sun will rise in the east
Set in the west
That will be our best bet
To find our way out
Predict the Past
Words are moving fast
Faster than I can understand
Competing with the speed of light
Into my head with danger
No understanding needed
People blast out obscenities
With fog horn blasts
Worries about the future
Trying to predict the past
I am not moved quickly with emotion
But in this almost steady flowing river
Into the ocean running
Mud filled water
Sludge
Filling greater waters
To which I barely understand
So I await more news
Uncertainty
Certainly
It will come
What was new
Will quickly become the past
The Power to Heal
Poetic justice
Late night karaoke slams
Altered punctuation
Drinks embezzled for us
From the incoherent
Blasting with interference
Keeping the lines straight
With a brother more found than lost
Amazing engages
Light engages
Hoping a new life revealed
Oh how the power of music
Can heal
Currency of My Own Time
The little forgotten things
Moments passing
Fleeting and free
Tied down now to the eternity
Of passing
Time flickering quietly
Not kicking and thrashing
It’s the unknown riddle
I attempt to make the most of the moments
Fleeting moments
I should have known this
That in the tiny cracks of uncertainty
Can take down the curtain
Of flow of currency
I attempt at words construed and written
For the hopes of my own improvement
So in exchange of time
Not perfection of pursuit
But the pursuit of something new
Everyday
For you
Hello
Back on the road
Dead straight
But a little lesser known
Taken time to rest my hands
Made strides in growth
As a man
Understand that time away makes the heart grow
Reflect what you intake
And undergo
So I go
Mile for mile
I wanted to say hello
Since it has been a while
Just on the Outskirts
Bradley is a happy man
He falls asleep on the island
To the sound of a bellowing fog horn
Cutting through the air as rich as worn leather
He awakes to coffee that envelops him
With a hug
Rather than a mere raspy handshake
He is content on the coast
Billowing up steam from a morning roast
Falling asleep as the fog crosshatches the eve sky
Across the bay
Happy till the day he may day
Rent control his eternal protection
Umbrella’s held in rather polite distinction
Humanity’s bustle he has no strict participation
Watching the sunrise
Heightened by windy anticipation
However the wind blows
On the edge of the sleepy little beach town
Bradley has it right
Bradley is a happy man
Just on the outskirts of San Fran
Critical Description Rehearse
Walking off the tarmack
To a shimmering glaze of white capped mountains
A blueish overtone of gentle purity
Of the final frontier
Pictures quickly flashed in a moments noticed
I remember walking
But I could have floated
Checking into the rental car
Stale air and stuff seats
Pulling out of spiral bending lots
Upon Alaskan grounds we disperse
What these eyes now behold
Could never have been done with
Critical description rehearsed
Phone calls connected before our arrival
Preparations made as best as we know how
Faces new gleaming with helping hands
Island time is a new resonance we intake
With a Foat Top silhouette in the backdrop
Down the Seward highway
We make our paths
And are already planning on coming back
A Cup of Songwriting 