Storm brew
From sea to shining sea
A fallen snowflake
Soon will be
Joined with many others
Across the country
From Texas to North Dakota
New York to New Mexico
Here comes a late
Spring snow
Coast to Coast Storms
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Tag Archives: New York Times
Toxic Infinity
Where does it stop
I am sick of toxic masculinity
But by being publicly stated
I feel I am going to be castrated
To firmly believe that not all men are bad
That is with those same broad
Strokes of generalism
That humanity has done it’s most heinous work
Under such infirmity
To instruct the world to hate
With such fervent stride
So with my beliefs
By my side
Each man is different
As I want the best for my wife
My family
I hope that we can understand
The differences that make each person
Beautiful
Rather than
Hateful
Papers on the Window
Papers were taped to the window
The death of the old man
Had come with its effects
Throwing the local neighbors
In a whirlwind
But in a city
With thin walls
The calls to move on came
And heeded they were
And the world moved on
The old pizza spot
Was set to have a new dawn
A Gaping Low
I have reached
The gaping low
Of my own
Creation
Mind fog
Imagination
I know that my own
Hopes can be dashed
In a moments notice
So I float
Untethered
To the life
I am knowing
Grate Tongue
A great tongue
Or a grate tongue
Is the difference between
Hope and death
Optimism
And pesimissim
Yet the same words
Can yield such
Vastly different results
Hurled insults
Or praises
Can be raised to the sky above
So I must decide today
Which path to take
Which hope to say
To move forward
In a positive way
The Far Side of Life
On the far side
Of life
I have said many goodbyes
A few hellos
Quite a few yes’s
And the occasional no
I have grown
To come and know
What is good in life
What is to be cherished
What wastes time
And what is meritless
So everyday I rise
And smile
For what time we have here
Is just a short
While
Machine Style
Machine style me
With a good natured
Laugh
Don’t impose
A frictional
Tone
Of indifference
Rather a love
I can hone
And develop
From a machine style
I envelop
All of myself
A Displacement of Time
A displacement of time
Is a whole new
Idea of recollection
I read in the pages of The New York Times
A nostalgic resurrection
Of the old feelings of joy
And pretending nice
Of a hope for a future
Without the pain
Of ill willed advice
The Price We Paid
The price we paid
For something new
Is more than a swipe
Now that will do
You pay in atmospheric
Pressure
Contested
With every measure
So hold hope
That more can be made
Than just the price we paid
Prescription Subscription
I forgot about you
Eternal renew
When the day becomes
Night
You charge me
Again
And again
For what I need
On my prescription subscription
So don’t wake me up
To do your bidding
Bid away
In the middle of the night
A Cup of Songwriting 