Separate Hands

We all sit around a fluorescent fire

Comforted by being side by side

Yet in a complete new world

Each of our minds

Has gone to find

Together we are in physicality

But in reality

We could not be farther apart

So we watch our fires

Burning in our hands

Selfish held plans

A new sense of community is born

From the hand held fires

That burn all night long

Separating us from

Dusk to dawn

Unfettered Risk

The risk of the situation

At hand

Money, life, time, love

Put on the line

Inhibitions to the wind

But sometimes I way awake

In the early hours of the morning

Wondering

Restrained

Breathing

As the light turn out to on

From black to the palest of blues

Have I done the right thing

For me

For you

One can only hold their breathe so long

Before the body reacts

I have to get some sleep

Find a way to relax

But somehow I have grown to love this life

Uncertainty abounding

There is something romantic

Not knowing where the next paycheck is found

So I close my eyes and count to 10

And I slowly fall asleep again

Three Letter Prose

Building rows

Of three letter prose

Steady up

And steady grows

Sunday Mornings wane lightly

Just enough momentum

To get flying

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner

In the midst of a mild winter

Growing up

But not growing old

This is how the week

Slowly lulls me back

Ready to begin

Again

Rhetorical Confessions

Continual manifestation
The contiguous creation
I have nothing but these notes
Floating from my soul
Out, up, filling the sky
And vacant holes
Less my life of possessions
Made through rhetorical confessions
Of undone music sessions
I hold not many
Nor own none
So these musical hulls
Owned in my own
Finished writing
I see my life flash like pink lightening
This life demands simple pleasures
And I take my happiness from that
The one and only measure

Batch of Fury

What can I do

Seeing the beginning hrough

What looked like a simple task

Revealed a challenging mask

What I now must ask

What is the drive of a dream

Driving, pushing, ripping with steam

When steam is less of a stream

A trickle slowly flowing

Regrouping a new batch of fury

When it is needed in such a hurry

I knew that challenges would come up

Disrupt my path of commitment

Inner sentiment rattled

In an industry of noise and clatter

Struggling to find what matters

What is clear and concise

Hold on to notes more precise

A harmony that unites

Rather than divides

The stories coming from other story tellers

Tell the same story as mine

In a world less than divine

Struggles and distractions are what they find

I see the same hopes and failures

Hoping for grit to set sail

The New Summation of Dedication

I thought I knew what was dedication

The summation of creation by mean of constants

Recurring events

A passive attempt at making myself something

But life has taught me a new life of dedication

What is the daily commitment to a lack of procrastination

The blood tears sweat of daily motivation

Reckless abandonment of other pursuits

Caring for every moment

Every move

Dedication has a new life in my eyes

Taking every moment in time

As a crucial chance to invite new challenges

Looking back I truly did not know dedication

It was a pretty word used for protection

From a true lack of focused determination

But as I grow we realize

What is true dedication

The Troubles Worth Having

Time to go all in
Again
And again
I guess when you live like this
It never really ends
Giving
Pushing
Partaking
Hoping
Praying
The troubles worth having
But not without
Question
Relative
Minor
To our triumphant, major
We hold steady
Brace for changes ahead
Unknown
A life in the arts
We have bled
For every inch we have grown

When the One Lets You Down

I have had this car for years

Made it through many laughs

Hard fought tears

Somehow these metal and plastic walls

Have converted into more of a hollowed hall

Celebration of years worked

Half worked

Double time

But when it starts to go south

Off the linear path

It’s hard to decide

When to let go

To let the old vessel

Stroll alone

Down the final road

No more strategy

No more money

It’s the end of the road

When can I decide

These hollowed halls

Have lived through thin truths

Thick lies

But in the end

Life goes on

It’s the memories not the material

That I will take from this world

Don’t Wreck the Morning

Don’t wreck the morning

Twill slip away with no warning

Late nights give way to undone time

Lines of sunlight pass through the cracks

Until the high of noon will come to pass

I collaborate with ideas

Giving up has no relation

Manifestation of lazy eyes

Rest and wake

In the morning