New York View

A grey off colored late morning

The pendulum of metronome

Clanks from within the construction walls

The paisley building stand

Juxtaposed to billboards and lights

The creamy paleness of the Queensboro Bridge

Speckles with lights and cars

Crawling slowly over

And crimson and white lines smoke

Stacks litter the sky



The east river is covered from sight

The land filled with energy


Magnificient architecture

Glistens well into the night

A New York view

New to me in a way

But still the same

And true



Comes The Breaks

Silence in reflection



Through reflection


When progress is made

I might have to step


Hope my hands can

Continue to write

When inspiration

Leaves my side

The morning will be alright

When the sun sleeps

At night

Continue on


We must

We have to


More fighting

Is it really needed

We are all tired

When we heard the call

And headed

Now more brutality

I thought we were headed

To civility

Goodness dear friends

What happened to us politically


When is the contest over

And the collaboration begin

When can we have forgiveness

For all of our vulgar sins

Not today I guess

As all hopes of civility

Renewed and put to the test

Off We Go

Foreign roads

Lead to treacherous results

What is known is more unknown

Facts are no longer facts

Fiction and fantasy

All intertwined sarcastically

What is literal

The truth

Tied up

Dropped to the bottom of the ocean blue

We have to decide and research

It’s now up to me and you

Covered Bases and Baseless

Baseless claims

Covered in the bases

Inside the bases are threads

Tying together interwoven very strange

How can lies and truth now be called the same


Miley if not wholly


Playing a new game

New rules

New attempts at truth and lies

From the cold winter ground

To the opaque spring sky

I can not try to understand all the commotion

Just new words in rotation

Under God’s Great Nation



Recuse is in the news

Withdraw all efforts

Corruption is now the norm

Normal abnormal

Still disturbing

Russian hackers

Making names for old politicians

No clarity from the top

No direct vision

All the while corners are being


New tones are being drawn

All the while I lay back and yawn

Is this over yet

Are we back in campaign season

Or are we waiting to go back in session

Uproars in Town Halls

Uproars thank goodness

Finally raucous

When we have clowns trying to hold mass

It’s time to get into class

Renewed hopes lie on unusual shoulders

These place holders

Are now finding lessons in power

From the people

By the people

A breathe of fresh air

That is seems now people actually care

Out of Sync with The Human Race

What’s the news

News new about the blues

All around the doom and gloom

I guess it was coming

Whether it be now

Or sometime soon

I hope there is a better narrative offered

How can any feelings be not fraught with anxiety

Highly toxic situations playing out on TV

Grieving hard to find solutions

Not all caught in one place

Somehow I am out of place

Out of sync with the human race