Lazy rain
On a Monday
New Year’s Eve
Hours away
Bring the fresh start
Without the clouds
Doing their part
Come new year
In due time
Start again
Feeling fine
Rainy Lazy
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Tag Archives: New York
Ship Canal
When the Des Plaines and Illinois Rivers
Meet
Headed to the Mississippi
There is a pace
Nestled on the shores
Of Lake Michigan
Black building scraping the sky
Leaning back
On the windy side
At the bed of the river
Lies mysteries
And long live series
Notes and pens
Float at the riverbed
Years of passing through a city’s heart
And in all of our heads
When the three rivers make one
And down stream it flows
Through Chicago
New Year’s Sky
New Years Sky
New York City
Bustling streets
Everyday dreams
On the streets
Lifted up to
Empire high
Ever upwards
And continually so
Feeling the New Years glow
Eastern Seaboard Foam
The seaboard
Bustles in the east river
East of the Manhattan bustle
In Brooklyn
Memories
Of these sights
Pass through
My mind
On a morning
In Indiana
Western Coffee Cup
The western coffee cup
Above the border
Where the wind is mild
And peaceful
Where the palms
Sway late into the night
Los Angeles
Abounds
When the western coffee cup
Is had west of town
Tree Save Us
The trees save us
Deliver us from our
Own perils
As we fall prey to
The toxins
We emit everyday
A tree
Can save us
As it has before
Growing from the ground floor
Taking us under its shade
Please save us trees today
Bravery and Shutdown
Bravery and shutdown
The juxtaposition
Of nature’s
Vs
Nurture
How our composure
Is tested
For our future
Are we brave
As we brace
For the changes
Of a slowing race
You tell me
Empire Spirit
Empire spirit
In the New York City skyline
All the way down 10th
And the wooded skyline
A spirit that resides
In my heart
Well past the moments
When from the city
Which I depart
Holding up my head
Teaching me where my feet go
And what direction I am led
For one only leaves the city
To achieve a higher calling
For the empire spirit goes past
When memories don’t last
The Linear Bus
Is there space on the bus
Moving in one straight line
In space and time
All along
While the bell rings
From the yellow line
All the way down the roads
As the old chains creek and pull
The linear bus and its passengers
Freewheeling
At last
The Promotion Designer
Such a lonely job
With a short description
A round sad face
In a Rockwell exhibition
With tears at the computer
And no real sign of life
In his eyes
Just trying to make the call
Get by
With a new promotion or design
Thinking now of how to resign
With dignity and praise
For these are his final days
A Cup of Songwriting 