Were there ever simple times?
A time when everything was smooth
As the morning dew
Rather I object
That time neither existed
In romance or
Realism but
Was a fragment
Of imagination
Lodged in the hopeful
For today is the day
Of hope for me
Regardless of the fate I see
We start in with
Today
Pushing ahead
In a world
Half alive
Half dead
Tomorrow is
Another day
Another chance
To be
Free
The evening
Was blue
From the start
Easy as it came
In from the western shores
So I stood
Taking in the waves
On the shore
Seeing the city line
Over the water lines
These piquant nights
Are the most
Enticing
I have ever seen
A grey
Smog
Layer
Overtakes
Chicago
On a summer’s day
Where the smoke
Puddles over the trees
And houses
Smothering the
Room
The space
With grey
Grey
Grey
Shallow
Is the fear
That I see
Growing amongst
Those
Whose cares
Are not in consideration
With others
Rather we must emit and develop
Depth for others
And for ourselves
My blue home
On the shores
Of the lakes
From which I am
Born
The water calls me
Even when I am weary
To try and understand
The ripples of waves
That crest
At the midnight hour
Over and over
My blue home
Through
I had it all wrong
From the shirts
To the clothes
To the coffee
And the hopes
What’s the matter
Anyways
When it’s all wrong
Today
Nothing too formal
Because I don’t want a lot
What the idea was to be
A little more nonchalant
Rebel Hopes
On the way
To being a renegade spirit
These worn out days
I have ideas
That are not so unique
With words
Bleak
But I hope to see a
Light
Guided by my own
Divine sight
For wherever I am pulled
I will hold on
To these rebel hopes
Wither and blow
So I am told
Is the way the winds
Goes
It can destroy
The sturdiest of
Foundations
It can rampage
The plans
We are making
So whether it be
The wind or the snow
It changes the face
Of whatever we
Know
A Cup of Songwriting 