Where are my shoes
Old leather wheels
Holding me down
Looking around
Where did I set them down
Blessed truths
Where will I find you
Silly shoes
Did I set them next to
The pipe of the balloon
Old shoes walk back to me
Real soon
Entitled title
Is earned through
Commitment
To greed
And dishonestly
Dishonesty
Entitled title of my next poem
Should be
And is
For some in the main of streams
Believe entitled live
Are lived
A blue tune
On the radio
I would not rather hear
As it simmers
In the distant background
Stirring up my head
And heart
This blue tune
Of me and you
Written too slow
To listen to
Tied to
My side
A tell tale
Ride
What learning can help me
Overcome
But what is learned
Must sometimes
Be undone
If we reach the truth
We teach the truth
If we fall short
We fill ears with wars of untruth
Can be me
Can’t be you
So strive for truth
Newness
Is it new
In the now
What has been done
What I learned from
Starting anew
Today it is due
To push farther
Run faster
For the now is due
In the face of time
I quiver
I walk
Away
Today
I
Face time
While
Heartedly
Aware
Of the passing of a figure
Unaware
Of time and place
Like my own mind
Unaware
The old wicker chair
Rests on the deck
Paint busted and worn
Summer town
Heat torn
The old wicker chair
Has remained a constant
In a changing world
All around us
The wicker chair remains the same
Face the fax machine
A worker from the past
Labeled into confusion
Now unused
Abusing
The old teller of tales
Gone away
And a deep water whale
Retreats into the ocean
Face the fax
And the fact is
We have moved on
Double check the story
The source
The files
Check the validity of the words
Used
And left out
Cross check the point
And the figures
Reference the names
And issues
The desires of the few
Reflect not of the masses
Rather of a few
Confused
Amused
Few
How can I be heard
Should I be heard
Are questions we must ask
Each other
Before we attempt to speak
What can we do in this world
How can we both speak
And listen
So to be heard and to hear
A Cup of Songwriting 