Tag Archives: New York City

The Dust Migration

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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

Hails the Sun

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The skyline hails the sun
In a stretch upwards
Calling the blue from the moon
Orange flecks gold over the estuary arm
Setting for the even
The empire reaches high and mighty
As the east river ferry barrels through
The wind stricken water
The brooklyn bridge reaches Manhattan
Strong and grounded
As planes launch from the ground
One world trade as new as a baby in the sky
Brooklyn in the back
Heralding the spring night
The rocks
Tucked with miss on the Brooklyn beach
On a Friday night
In New York City

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Keeping the I can

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Keeping the I can
In a world of can’t
Can lead the mislead
Push the final pedal down
Until the spring rose is dead

It is important
To believe in what you can’t
That someday you can
Be where you want
The belief
Rather than stricken grief
Must grow

People won’t think twice before
The remind you once more
That you have never done
This before
Heed only to your own calling
Hold yourself up
From falling

Let hope and belief grow
Let it take you were you want to go
Raining on summer plants
Thirst quenching with water
For your soul will grow
Just like a spring plant
When you say you can
In a world of can’t

Crazy Donna

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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

Sky Above

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We work hard to keep the dirt out
Hands black from wiping
Our hearts exhausted from working
The place had to be clean
It was oh so concerning
This foreign place is now our home
A year we will commit
To making out here
Alone
It starts with clean sheets
A soft pillow and a bed
Find a place to rest your head
We clean it into a home
A place of rest and peace
To be quiet and alone
In a city that values it’s silence
More than money or time
Working hard and toeing the line
We will pass through good seasons
And bad
Happy and sad
Me and my love
Alone under the sky above

Friends Among Strangers

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Thoughts floating indistinct
Finding ears receiving
While some short lived
Fall extinct
Sweet carmel swift
Fall on noses
Scent drift
Bitters produce taste
Lingering strong
Keeping minds wake
Moving
All night long
Greenpoint and Williamsburg
Making friends among strangers
While coffee drips
Testing the hot draw
With tender lips
Small sips we grow
Ideas bloom
From the cold ground
With the melting snow
Tucked in a borough of NYC
They will find us
Locked eyes
You and me

A Pick Me Up Tune

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Discontent in the bar on a Saturday

Everyone seems to be okay

Except this one character

Late fifties sniffing for something young

Couple too many drinks he has

Flung

Back

Into his wasted soul

And hardened heart

This man is doing nothing

But playing the creepy old man part

His breathe reeks of alcohol and beer

Harassing the poor musicians to play

A pick me up tune

So he can swoon the younger ladies

Sickened

To my stomach as I see him rummage

Through these civilized people

He is garbage left in the summer sun

Ruining the night life of everyone

His hair slicked back in 80’s fashion

Blond with protruding teeth

Blue eyes that see

Nothing but flesh on the bones of young women

He is sickened me to no redemption

I am but inches away from bending

Flinching into a rage of spirit

So that everyone in this bar can hear it

He is a wasted soul washed up on the shore

For he is that

And nothing more

Over Rated

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This is a new song that I have been working on very diligently in the past couple of

weeks. It is about the pressures of always looking for the next best thing and

looking to the future in life – when really all you have to care about is going on

right in front of your eyes. This song will be on our next album out in late 2013.

Enjoy!

–

I’m feeling so over rated

My life is so complicated

Not the best but I face it

These feelings are fresh

But I am jaded

–

Oh and I feel like I am going

Nowhere

And I feel like I want to be

Someone

I don’t want to write this song

–

Forget about tomorrow

If you want to live today

Forget about tomorrow

If you want to live today

If you want to live today

Remember what I say

–

My thoughts can be so relentless

You ‘bout gave up when I said this

Now that I know that you’re faded

Well I had to go but I waited

For you

–

Oh and I feel like we are going

Nowhere

And I feel like we are missing

Something

And I don’t want to write this song

–

Forget about tomorrow

If you want to live today

Forget about tomorrow

If you want to live today

If you want to live today

Remember what I say