Roads and potholes
90 degree toll roads
Bitter open road
Closed roads
Intersecting roads
Confusing misleading roads
Life roads
Country roads
City roads
Stupid roads
Congested roads
Traffic roads
Asphalt roads
Old roads
All lead
Home
Just leased out our place in NYC
The album takes first place
Homelessness ensues
Chaos long overdue
But for the sake of the art we let go
Take control of our creation
Letting go of a constant state of consistency
Not much to envy
High hopes for distinctions unknown
We just let up
And let go
The lightness of air
Held from highest peaks
Falling soft
On my face and cheeks
Holding air light
In lungs tight
I can only have moments
Which are
Never enough
Summer wanes
Like an early bird song in the morning
Warming and warning
We heed like leaves awaiting the fall
For changes that will come
Our lives will adjust with seasons
Waxing and waning
All the time anticipating the future
Holding dear to the past and present
We are old enough now
To realize if you look too much ahead
You will be left with future regret
Holding hands
Kissing lips
We await this changes with fires now dim lit
Summers waning pace has tapered off with the months
Cooling heads and sending us off
How I hold the present tight
But know that just letting go
Will be alright
Some details are always secret
Frustrating and deliberate
Held back with animosity
Towards the roaming misfit
Truth is never quite told
Lies sleekly avoided
News spread through lies spun
Then voided
I hope to deal with such grace
That I can overcome dealing with
The real face
Of a roaming misfit
Hold my tongue in place
For when he shows up to my door
Waiting for the embrace
I will hold back the words true and harsh
Hoping for something more contained and smart
But the webs we weave
Some to build
Others to deceive
I know this now more than before
So I will smile with reserve
When this man shows up to my door
No one will sing my song
Others create
Borrow or steal
But my voice sings my life story
It must be from my own lips
Sung
Creating context for understanding this mess
Owning these words whether they be of beauty
Or of restlessness
It is my mission to create my story
No other hands have created
This life of simple strands
Woven around complex webs
Of inner circle steps
So no one will push my pen
My life’s commitment to the end
To be committed and honest
So I can be fully created
Life, lived, created lines
Easy or frustrated
I doubt to grow
I grow to expand
I expand to feel
I feel to know
I know nothing
Nothing is certain
Breathe in that June air
Summers clear day
Warm brings me life
Hope encouragement
Even when life’s not perfect
We wake with full lungs
Of this wondrous summer air
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
So long gone
So many more to come
Hours pass like minutes
Days pass like hours
Weeks pass like days
Months pass like weeks
Years pass like months
Growing up
Time on the run
I must settle myself
Settle these days down
To take in the beauty all around
Keep looking up
Only check once to look down
The leather cold from a chilly morning
Sand from clothes the night before
One grain less
One grain more
The birds chirp rapid scores
Pushing me out the door
The radio belts out last nights memories
Sent me off for the night
Making the ways
For new
Broken in
Days
A Cup of Songwriting 