The bags are full
On the hardwood floors
My wife looks at me
“I’m not sure I can do this anymore”
Life is rough
Getting ready for the road
But when opportunity calls
We know no more
Than to go
Repair the wounds
And hope for a full room
The lessons we learned
The muscles we have conditioned
For a true living condition
And we push on
Oscar has no love for fraternities
On that note
Oscar’s love left him
When she was in a sorority
I guess she had different
Priorities
While the majority of the US
Has the tradition of bad decisions
Oscar from Paris
Sees it much differently
He said that everyone
Was into his french accent
He was a type of delicacy
At these types of sororities
But they lacked in advanced thought
Somehow this childish nature
Would furnish a top degree
Oscar could not disagree more
I found this conversation
At a bar in Brooklyn
With delightful fascination
Oscar and me
Talking about sororities
In New York City
The long sweat drips down my face
Leaving a trace
A vibrant jet stream
Cooling attempts being made
The sun spares no shade
On a New York City day
People walk carelessly
Trying not to perspire
None at all is desired
The subways bellow a thick
Steam as you enter in
Blowing the summer wind
Not much you can do
To evade
Or catch any shade from the heat
It is a element of highest rank
Infiltrating the smallest space
Under the heat of summer
With a sweltering embrace
I’d rather be lying than say it
The city can frustrate
Illustrate the non city perks
In Manhattan on a hot summer spurt
Oak tables decorated elaborately
Tightly held collars creased with summer heat
In the subways
Not a getaway as much as an oven
Leaves my mind wandering
Of the lakes outside the Midwest
Only too relinquish my summer request
For now I tango with 90 in New York City
Trying to keep cool in the shade
Of 180 10th street
Stay inside to supercedes the heat
There are times I would rather be
On the lakes of the great state
Than on the city streets
To hold or let go
To live
Or grow old
We shoulder these decisions
In what I learn
What I know
The sensitivity of progress
Can be held up
Reset
Regress
If proper attention is not paid
To forward motion
And progress
I obsess
About the shape my mind
Creates
The inner monologue
That projects my final epilogue
“My journey will never get easier”
To a stranger I said
He quickly replied with no fetter
“True, but we only get better”
Oh the joy of redemption
To give life a exultant expression
When it pushes you to the end
Past the point of a simple bend
To the breaking convex
Not easy but rather complex
It gives back
One small ounce
To help push the mind
From the weathered mounds
The joy that can be felt
When life tries to help you out
Picks you up a bit
After seeing you almost drown
I am happy for these days
To be enjoyed and endured
To see a light in the woods
When all of life seemed unsure
Love makes summer seem
Soft and seemingly subtle
Keeps the air
From sweating my soul
Hands touch hands
Cheering in splashes
Crashing soft on the shores of
The ocean
Winds of sands blown
On the southern beaches of
Virginia
8 hours from home
For it is in Love
That we are truly never
Alone
There is no final dance
No significant closing chance
Understated
Undermined
Love and Passion
Just takes a bit of time
No looking toward the sky
For a fulfilling sign
I stretch the curtains
Of my wandering mind
I refuse to let go
Claiming there is a closing time
In my mind the scene changes
Arranges the lines around me
I hear that the weary word
From the wings of a low flying bird
Flapping wings unheard
We bend at the knee
To touch the ground cold
As I maintain my posture
But am getting old
There is no final dance
No closing notes
I will not hang my life work
On that whimsical hope
The city Monopoly on top of me
Run me over
Push and topple me
The middle class is
High under siege
Who owns these buildings
I see
In front of me
Behind me
Who’s pieces touch the sky
Down to the ground
All around
The goal of surviving
Is miles short of thriving
On the ground struggling to breathe
Can feel like I am dying
Not on my death bed I am lying
To my soul
The energy it is supplying
Paycheck to paycheck
Account balance recheck
Food and meal not set
In a city with a finger
Lingering
On my reset
Surely the uncertainty
Will certainly
Wear perfectly on
The real worthy
Feelings
Confirming me
Consciously
Putting me feet in front of me
Supposedly
There is a 1 out of 3
Chance
That whether we sing
Or dance
We will not have enough
Cash
To stash away
For the future
So we must take utmost precaution
With scalpel and suture
Sow our future
To know it can grow
And go where we hope it goes
Our future together
Must be stronger
Then when the wind blows
But truly
Who knows
A Cup of Songwriting 