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
Growing up
Under swollen skies
Making changes
In our parents eyes
Commitments made
Growing mistakes
We just have to do
Whatever it takes
I watch you grow
You watch me
We help each other stay
From as low as life
Can be
We wake up together
To see another day
Whether its the sun
Or the rain
We grew up under swollen skies
When the rain fell
It pulled the tears out of our eyes
Yet we pushed through
I get to see a new face
Through the rain anew
I am honored and proud
To be your husband
Under these dark rain clouds
Its hard to imagine
Yet easy to see
Life grown
From sea to sea
City coast on eastern suns
To the simple life
Of farm living
What we see
Is what we are giving
The floors kept with field extras
Bugs, birds, dirt and all
We are held up
While the road calls
Be on your way
Where it takes us
Not for us to say
Coffee and smoked salmon
Lingers in my mouth
I reach for the ignition of my car
Live lived with the simple pleasures
The caffeine
Protein
Keep me alive
Awake
For trips near and far
Reminiscent and familiar
I have learned each city
By the letters that spell the name
Some far off distant
Others very much the same
The dash must be 108
Indiana summer feels so hot today
The leather scorching to touch
I grab my seat belt
Roasted in the reflecting sun
I quickly pull my hand back
Take a deep breathe
Very close to home
Yet ever far away
As the sweat drips down my face
This Memorial Day
The constant race
Of the human race
Coming face to face
With realities
Of what will Be
What will not be
Committed to a community
Of people breathing and sleeping
Communicating all sensations
Of creations
Temptations
Frustrations
Sharing with each other
The ideas of lovers
People hate
Other continue to love
We work well
On a Wednesday swell
Of the city
On the ground
In the NYC Town
How can dust exist in such plethora
Consuming humans in black filth
Penetrating apartments with stealth
What is the creator
The destroyer
Yet it plooms from every
Vehicle brimming black and burdened
From the backs of trucks
Tossed lightly into the air
To begin it journey
Destination unknown
Yet it flies just softly enough
Through the screens
Into our homes
Where it land
Collects friends
Possibly propagates
Until we have the motivation to cleanse
Purging our home from such creations
Out the shoot
And back into the circle
Of the dust migration
Over time
Challenges will get easier
But I have lived under the
Misrepresented presumption
I assumed with all known gumption
That somehow
It would get easy
But easier does not imply easy
Easy implies lack of trying
Lack of trying implies lack of caring
So life for me
Will never be easy
Nor would I want it to be
If difficult becomes easier
It becomes manageable
Not easy
Manageable means you still
Must give your best
Under new conditions
Yet the same test
But the false truth
That life would get easy
Was misleading me
Tempting me
Causing me more harm than known
Holding me back from where
I could have grown
I now know and understand
That the true tests of being a man
Will never be easy
And I hope they never will
I hope life continues to test my growing
Will
But I will learn
I will grow
Taking each passing test as I go
Life will never be easy
I will accept all challenges
With greatness of eager
With hope one day
These great challenges
Will be just a bit
Easier
Rush
Rush
Hurry
Nothing is worse than
The rush
The bustle of peoples muscles
Pounding pavement
Pushing gas pedals
Standing in Subways
Rush
Rush
Hurry
Don’t let the mind sway or worry
Make it out in traffic
Sit and wait
Just to see if you can take
The
Rush
Rush
Hurry
You must go to Joey’s and get the clams
With her short hair and her deep eyes
Italian blood
But you know that story about Joey
She sighs
If he gets cheap and doesn’t give you the fresh
Flour bread
Let him know
Crazy Donna from Cookie Box
Said
“He’s dead!”
We spent the morning chatting
In the gym
On the stationary bike
She was straight out of
The godfather
Or Sopranos
I was so much intrigued
Her stories had my mind fatigued
These stories that loom on these streets
You must take time to listen
To stories of the pre-madonna
and the truely gritty
All float above the belts
Of mouths
In New York City
Between me and you
I want to know
Who can sing the blues
No care for stories or background
Just the way your voice sounds
So sweet is the irony
For
Back when the blues were constructed
Even now as the legends are being inducted
To the halls of fame
There story was never boring
Never quite lame
The story of these greats
Could make you pause
Even wait
To hear the next lyric
The next verse
To know what adverse
Conditions these men and women faced
We can not reduce this music
To technicalities and perfection
It has been hard born
Since the moment of its inception
I see the value in entertainment
But its straining my understanding
Of what music is
So I fall back to some classic blues
Stories from long ago
And I remember
That music is the sound
That makes life
Enjoyable
A Cup of Songwriting 