Currency of My Own Time

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

Coeur D’ Alene 

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 

Parking Lots

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3 AM Parking lots

Not a lot to it

Cold lights bear over black stained stones

Moving slow after 8 hour rolls

We have a way of making it OK

Me and my love

On the road

On the road

On the road

Ruptured Lines

The flawless defeat

Of the demonic judge

Ruptured the lines holding

A grudge

Numerous screams absorbed in defeat

Holding a rock now

Standing at his feat

To the sky his hands are held

Over the judges corpse bellows

Double the warmth running

Through his veins

Now transformed to flawless

Caves running from his heart

The heart of a man who has overcome

Challenges

Defeats

For he now

Is the only one left

On his feet

 

Second Crack Sound

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The fleet of beans

From all over the world it brings

A cup to hand

An arithmetic of modern invention

Shipped all over with modest intention

From the solid green

To a hollow black and brown

The second crack sound

A record taste of tremendous body

Not to be deceived or forgotton

With authority flavors delivered

A coffee from Burundi has me completely

Enthralled

 

 

Coffee Beans

From the tip of the acidity

To the depths of complexity

The pleasing sensation of a cup of coffee

The liquid performs slow alterations

To the tongue

Like a rabbits foot for good luck

In the morning

It preserves through the burst of caffeine

To the mind and heart

It swim the sea of my tongue

And winds down the windy throat

Coffee ingested

Thumb pressing on the mug gently

Wiping away the morning dew

Starting fresh

Anew

The Concussion of Consumption

A brother in arms

We move forward attempting

To right our wrongs

From our previously torpid ways

Deny science

Change

We harbor no feelings for advance

When we recede rather than succeed

Impede rather than proceed

The ice caps melt

Float away

We push it back another day

Another generation

Another worry for another nation

As the suns rays

Trap in our atmosphere

Our smiling unwilling faces

Burned and seared

There is no therapeutic release

From this great indignation

Jam our hands with more consumption

Pushing back the possible eruption

Our will becomes fuzzy from the sudden jolt

Of a concussion

We have the ability to go from sour

To marvelous

From sinister

To genius

It is now truly up to us

For we have watered down the glass

But now the glass overflows

We must take heed of what our actions sow

For the future

Our harbors will cease to exist

Unless we make moves to resist

Nature does not need us to persist

So it is a calling to action

Sounding the alarms

For we are now all bound as brothers in arms

Faded Notification

Waiting on the subwayForest green weathered station

Red bulbs blast from inside tunnels 

Jet black

Yet I await with backpack

Heavy but no overpowering 

Gray faded station notification

Then screeching braking happening

Other line awaiting

And off it goes

Spending an afternoon in New York City

Up rolls the next G train

I waited but didn’t have to strain

For its arrival

Which is unusual

But off I go

Light of the Wren – Chase the Sun

Profuse and too many to count

The Austin suns beams

Bending over hills

Setting over the Western runs

The sun

Like a wren

Of the new world

Singing its praises

As the daylights time

Comes due

The city’s unique song

Lingers in my ears

Joy to my heart

Warmth to my limbs

We come limping in at 3 AM

From a wrathful road of flurries

To a fresh morning

As crisp as gently plucked berries

Scandalous in the evening sun

Slipping a cloth lightly over the door

As we embark on the city

Once more

As we disengage the night and snore

We then wake again

When the closing time comes

We set out and chase the sun