Spilled Milk on the Red Line

Spilled milk on the Red Line

Veins of white

Rush down the floor

“That ain’t mine”

The lady with two hats on yells

The man

Visibly exhausted with his head back

Is not one inch close to conscious

As the white pours through the isle

Pictures being snapped

A moment catches

The woman with the bike laughs

Late night Red Line

Public transportation

Strange spilled iterations

As the winds wind through

The tunnels

Below the streets

Of L.A.


Desperation of Desolation

The desperate times

Desperate measures

Come up with something good

A productive measure

In times worn thin

As the veil of light

Through the morning curtains

We have to continue to

Rely on food decisions

To set us right

Round the Corner

The simple smell

Can trigger so many memories

Roasting coffee

In Williamsburg

Takes me to years

On the road

So fresh and clean

Yet Smokey and full

The roast roars our into the air


And bringing back

Memories of good times

Day to Be

The coming days to be

Letting go of what was familiar to

You and me

A city

A life

For bigger and better

Discoveries and journeys

Letting go

While others hold so tight

That they squeeze the life

Out of the joy

Thy love

And love left

It will be

Goodnight City

Fears and hope

All mixed together

In on moment

Of letting go

Growing Up

Not growing old

Ride the train home

When the timing is just right

So the doors will open and

Step into the night

Delays in Night


Unfettered display

Of reckless disregard

On guard

Words with no meaning


Backward leaning

Back in the night

When the sun lies low

That is where the weak prosper

The forbidding go

The Lake Lays

The lake lays


While we sleep

Lapping waves

On the shores

Of the Indiana shores

With dunes and beaches

Summer will evaporate 

While the lake lies

Awaits a new summer

In a deep winter freeze 

Take a Break

Walk away

Start anew

From Tuesday blues

To Wednesday new

Hold on to new days

No matter what anyone says

Hope is best in moderation

Don’t let go

When optimism is lost

It may not come back

Gone drifting into the black

Hold on to what is true

Hold this day 


Back to Words

Back to Words

Renewed and new

Old and worn

Planted and grew

I refresh in a new 

Set of words

Tied in meaning

And time

I return to Words

In search of rhyme