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