A brawny evening
Bold with winter folds
Cold
Unnerved
Holidays season is upon us
Yet this year there lacks a certain
Gusto
Who knows
Maybe it’s me
Maybe it’s the weather
Whether or not it is me
Or the other
The season of change is upon us it seems
Ready to brake at the seems
What it all seems is
Off
Just another brawny winter night
We are carried in the carriage
Ragged and old
We must find new wheels
New axels
Our carriage can’t carry
Us much longer
Not like this
We are going to break the carriage
Disparage
Can we please fix the carriage
In the news
Nothing new it seems
Nothing we can’t undo
Redo
How the cycle continues
How uncertain can we pull back the curtain
Of deception
Unknown
Around and around
We go
Spare in public
Spare in private
We are now ragged to the words
The fierce ideals
Of which I have no appeal
Prose
Or poetry
Do no good in the face of extremists
Rather words of inflammatory are
The choosing
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
A wren of the future bird
Eyes filled with glossy cover
Singing the notes of a future uncertain
Pulling back what remains in the dark
From a pulled curtain
The lazy have come into hold us
The land upon us
Troubled for profit withholding
The truth was never unfolding
A small drip from our brows
Idealistic until now
Strap the hood on and walk out into the cold
If we never try I guess we will never know
Never coming together
Never falling apart
We all now have to do our part
Scintillating and wide
Open to the sky
The black above was almost
Tangible
If I could only transport my hand
From this land
To way above
I would crack the ceiling of the sky
Like a cracker under foot
Fearless attempts to reach higher
Moves of inspiration
Rather than that of a scary nature
To move the minds of my own wife
From the toxic smelly life on the road
To the clean connections of being or having
A home
I do not disparage any connections
We have or will create
We must learn to rely on our instincts
The sky above flickers and winks
From the spotty reflection in the water
To the highest star burning brighter
Sky connecting us together
Under the clear moon weather
Handsome
Holding harrowing movements
Held up to higher standards
Refusing confrontation
Frustration
To keep the handsome look at ease
As horses drink from the sea
A salty water of no useful notion
Apologizing while blustered in blushing motion
Yet dropping dead at the next race
Handsome hopes with fragile face
To refuse would be no option
What is good may not be so beneficial
What hopes ride are though of as unofficial
While the cycle continues
Handsome hands holding their true hue
Undue pressure pushed back
The water of a pitcher held in good esteem
Will flow back to the ocean in a stream
There is a particular Steely Dan song
That reminds me
Of when I was young
Being in the car with my father
Driving to school
I can’t make out the details
Something about Green Earrings
I remember these times fondly
The fatherly bond
Created through music and experience
I am not even sure that we talked
We just drove listening to the keyboard
Funk
Something happened in that moment
I can not tell you what
Or how
But I will remember it
50 years from now
Me and my dad
Listening to Steely Dan
On a drive to school
In a green Nissan
As the sun was cracking
From underneath
A winter dawn
Rents going up
Places made by artist
Now have become sought after
By the big name boutiques
In the vintage book store
People are talking
300% is the new going rate
There is no way
We can pay
These new fee’s
This street will soon be filled with
Boutiques and galleries
At that point it will cease to exist
When the artist move out
The high dollar
The new list
I only observe
I am new blood
My heart was drawn by her story
In the book store on the corner
A Cup of Songwriting 