Polite discrepancy
Independently
Who’s responsibility is it
Who’s responsibility was it
To be honest and clear
Alive and front and center
Taking the stage
As the great pretender
Honor the people
Before the investor
This is not a board game of sorts
Or out of sorts
I watch in horror
Decisions will be made tonight
During the outlandish debate
Hoping someone will seal a certain fate
Tonight
Alright
Let them at it
We can watch the fight
Back to the city
City heat in the late summer
Thick humid clouds on top of skyscrapers
Months since we have been back
The old place welcomes us in
Brooklyn
Some places have been turned away
Shuttered business closed to open new
Opportunities
Unbelievably fast
Changing hands
In the middle of the night
New faces by noon light
The evolution continues
We continue
Our friends
Some stay
Some move on
In the summer heat
Of New York City
Life has a way of changing
Right when you think it is all figured out
Right when you get comfortable
You get knocked down
Change is truly inevitable
It is in this inevitability that we must anticipate
Await new challenges
New celebrations
New frustrations
It is all in the package when you sign the lease
Lease of life
Temporary
Inpermanent
I see these changes truly only in retrospect
Hard to drive the car when you can only look back
But I adapt
That is the fully human function we all have
Is the ability to change to the future
To see what is required and adapt to it
Sometimes I reminisce the past
I open up to it
But only momentarily
There is nothing to hold on to
To move forward with
I just have this moment
It will never be the same
And I have never been here before
But I will do my best
Life
In 4 minutes I will attempt
To write words
Strung together with
Some meaning
My eyes are stuck to the screen
Gleaming
Written in an attempt to say
What I have postponed along the way
Returning to ritual
Feels good
Yet not unusual
11:57 The clock reads
Momentary and sedentary
I return to the road
We travel so often
Yet so unfamiliar
Unusual
The hope of unity
A collection of ideas
Almost perfect
But perfect in its imperfections
It has beauty despite moments
Of Lack of direction
Proceed on our journey
To find people
To share moments and peace
This is my idea to bring
Muddle and confusion
Marry the mellow quiet
With ruptured sounds of a digital empress
Defiant of the status quo
Holding on to the last of what was
What we used to know
The cell phone rings
Elbows locked in admiration
Swing around the border
Of the new order
Tech first feeling second
Defiant I remane
But I wonder what the world would be
With no technology
Would we be more advanced
If we were connected by glance
Instead of digital connection
A tacit code of life
Implied by technical lines
We are breakable and weak
In the eye of technology
Return to the pages
Settled in and getting away
Too long
Can get contagious
I don’t write
Due to lack of inspiration
Rather I am not writing
Because it has become
A lack of motivation
Unfamiliar sensation
But it is a coal covered jewel
Untouched as the days continue
First the idea sprouts
From mind to fingers
Scatters across the keys and onto the page
I resurrect the beast laying dormant
Back to writing and enjoyment
With rest comes ideas
Ideas with time
And now it is time to return
To the pages
To the writing burn
Articulate assembling
Summer salad created
Hands willfully picking the pieces
Assembling the creation at hand
Southern Indiana type of man
Years spent on the eastern seaboard
Now looking a bit more windward
Back against the jet stream
And to the midwest
Now creating companies with goals set
A man and his discovery
Looking for hopeful engagements
And full recovery
We sit for dinner
My wife and I
Engaged from side to side
Discussing his next adventure
From the countryside
A home set off in the distance
Off the country roads in existence
We discuss possibilities of new futures
I wish I could have seen this sooner
The little forgotten things
Moments passing
Fleeting and free
Tied down now to the eternity
Of passing
Time flickering quietly
Not kicking and thrashing
It’s the unknown riddle
I attempt to make the most of the moments
Fleeting moments
I should have known this
That in the tiny cracks of uncertainty
Can take down the curtain
Of flow of currency
I attempt at words construed and written
For the hopes of my own improvement
So in exchange of time
Not perfection of pursuit
But the pursuit of something new
Everyday
For you
Upon the shores of the Idaho banks
Lies a city of French coronation
Beauty bounding straight from the mountains
Fountains of fresh water springs
Water clashed out and sings
Pine trees weathered the western sun
Green coffee beans roasting
Swooning from the delicate flow of life
Tucked on the western sea side
Fresh air crisp in inhalation
Resounding in echoes smoothed out of the corridors
As my eyes rest easy
On this place just west of the planes
In a small town called Coeur d’Alene
A Cup of Songwriting 