At the time of this writitn
There are clouds
Up in the mountaisn
Rain in the air
To whole this may concern
To whom they may care
So I approach
A late spring morning
With a renewed sense of direction
Upon the mountians
My eyes lay
In connection
Words to believe
Start with a truth
About reality
So that we can see
What potentially
Can be
A future
Probability
Today’s whimper
Had me at the gate
From the launch
I have stayed
Out of the way
Of the moving pieces
That set me a stray
It’s not quite
The right time
To be full on
In our brash return
To life
So we wait
Cooped up in our domestic jungles
A sleepy bungalow
And wait for the next day
The next fact
The next phase
So go ahead and
Take today
The big faint
Starts with a deep breathe
And all that you let go
Becomes blurry lines
Blurrier than the ones you know
Spiritually roasted
While my bread
Hasn’t even been toasted
So I think of the times
When I had a clearer
Mind
And hope that someday
Soon I can return
To the spiritual room
It’s been a cold start
To the year
Not to many things
That I can list
Of which I am overwhelmed
With happiness
I am damp
But I am alive
Doing the best that I can
From now on
I will be better
At what I do
From now on
I will let go
Of what I can’t undo
From now on
I will look ahead
From now on
I will finish the things I’ve said
From now on
I will put my best forward
From now on
It’ll be ever onward
Poems are for the poets
Surely not for me
“Words” are a better fitting
In the way I see
Although it has no pretense
No context
Or clearly guided path
I am just a homeless man
Not a gifted Sylvia Plath
Putting words to a paper
As fast as I can
There is no plan or arrangement
Just the connections made
And dues still to be paid
What’s the point
If the point
Keeps dragging it’s
Feet
In different directions
From a renewal of fears
To insurrections
Closure and curfew
What will this do
If we can’t make it
To the next day
A Cup of Songwriting 