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The High Sky
On a brisk walk under November skies
The weather cold dark and grey
How would one ever know
That one thousand pounds of weed
Was falling my way
One foot ahead of the other
Walking in a winter fashion
Passing others waving
Making no point to be an attraction
Snow gave way to firm concrete underneath
A light chatter of crackling snow and ice
Under my feet
I glance at the horizon
Just up enough to see
That a dark black object
Hurtling toward the earth
And me
I quicken my pace to a jog and clear the way
I now know something is falling
Falling right towards my direction
As it nears the ground
50 feet or so
I notice it is about 8 bags of so
They fall to the ground as haystacks tossed
I begin my decent to discover the fallen goods
There is no way that I could have truly understood
Here is 100 lbs of weed fallen from the sky above
Heavenly dank sent from the angels with love
Upon that day I reached a new level high
With the gifts I received
That fell from the sky
The Genius of Catch
If Not for Perfection
–
I wish not for perfection
Rather somewhere
At the intersection
Of preparation
And the continuation
Of ones course
–
The readiness is created
By all the time spent
Re-taking
Take after take
Just for one good virtuous shake
The artist prepares with good intent
Content on rehearsal
Frustrated with constraint
Holding the power to change
Is the key to arranging
The true masterpiece that lies within
–
The strokes fall smooth on the page
Many hours have been spent
To create this moment
In this perfect age
The feelings and the artistry dance
Upon the blank canvas
Creating great swaths of golden hues
No reason to overdue
Simple strokes and committed lines
Hours spent caressing this craft
To create a mindless illusion
The genius of catch
–
Illustrious moments turn to intricate delicacy
As the grand swaths revolve to small movement
This is where preparation meets commitment
Where the small lines have the greatest impact
No thought or stroke left un-in-tact
This creation flows from the mind
Through the heart and blood
To the muscles and fingertips
Out onto the canvas
–
So what was once within
Can be seen without
Having to speak or convey
The image left upon the page
The true masterpiece
Time to Reflect
Time to reflect
On decisions
That have been made
Others postponed
And delayed
–
Where I stand today
May not affect tomorrow
So how do I quite know
If this is where I should
Go
–
So many questions
Yielding very few answers
The scenery does not change
If I just choose to
Stand here
–
The past 3 years
Decisions were not bad
But if I could go back
What would I instruct
That poor young lad
–
I might say
Act with confidence
And cause
What you do not gain
Is not quite a loss
–
Move quick
And stay nimble
The world will not wait
for your heart delayed
its that simple
–
Fear holds you
Hostage at blank point
But behind the gun
Is no ammo
It holds you
Until you let go
–
Youth is fleeting
Do not become to attached
From your young wirey hands
This gift will be quickly snatched
–
But do not lose hope
There is no reason
What you lose one year
You will find stronger
In another season
–
Patience is key
But do not get complacent
Words striking and true
But you truly have to face them
–
In the end
Know your goal
Or destination
There is no minute hand
When the clock is wasting
–
Finally push back
Word hard
And stay committed
When it is all over
You will be glad you did it
–
I hope that in another few years
I can read this back
And have new wisdom
To share
–
But for now
I hope to own these truths
So that I may push on
A time to reflect
Is a time for my heart
To be reset
A Mouth Full of Iron
Just because I am broke
Does not mean that I am broken
–
The heart broken
Knows the languish for success
–
This languish can only be known
Through heartbreak and distress
–
The world around me spins
Yet I have to catch my druthers
–
In a life that is given
One must learn to rely on others
–
But that bitter irony
Creates a burn in ones mouth
–
Leaning on hopes of easier roads
Leaves the heart less than whole
–
Rust collects on the resting
One must move so no dust can begin collecting
–
Subdued Indiana terrain
Toughened the skin with winter pain
–
A mouth full of iron
Cracked on all sides
–
Makes me wonder
Whats is the next curve in life
–
What awaits
What gives what takes
–
Yet
–
Just Just because I am broke
Does not mean that I am broken
Corporate Greed
Corporate Greed
Wants
to feed me
A GMO
I said NO
–
Belly swollen with chemicals
Repulsed by
Shriveled testicles
They can keep their damn GMO’s
2 Dollar Barefoot Friend
My 2 dollar barefoot friend
Say’s don’t forget the gift he sent
I don’t give these away cheap
For this gift I give you now
Was once mine to keep
Is the best I have to offer
Not much monetary
All my pockets could carry
With no shoes on my feet
Keeping my limbs clean
Not a requirement
A choice rather
To stay simple and connected
So on bare feet I stand
Resurrected
He imparted simple knowledge
With a gift of simple patronage
In a coffee house with steam buzzing
People talking
Computer keys chirping
My 2 dollar barefoot friend stood standing
Connected to the ground
In a way so organic and true
His motivation true
Eyes keen on anti-convention
Somehow he felt more alive
With a true world connection
As the night got late he carried on
I went my way he went his
But his two dollar bill
Was his gift to give
And the simplicity of
A barefoot connection
The Dreamer of No Dream
For the dreamers in the world
Who have no dream
Who own the tug boat
With it, no steam
–
For the wonderers
Hoping for all the good
This world can bring
But to afraid to sing
–
Living life out on the edge
For nothing more
Than a simple pleasure
Their life to give
–
I ponder these wondering souls
They wonder the streets
Never quite up
Never quite down
–
The careless attitude they possess
No thought for the formal
No trial for scrutiny
No firm contra success
–
I am grinning as I write
About this loving souls
They have no lingering care
As their bodies grow old
–
I hope that I posses such traits
Striving for life and its blessings
With no crudeness for advantage
Happiness truly is the ultimate bandage
–
I am lifted by simple smiles
The thought of easy hearts brings me back
The dreamer of no dream
Is quite more sophisticated than it seams
–
So here is to the wanders
I hope you find what you seek
Your heart is happy
And your adversaries’ weak
–
Here is to you
Keep the dream alive and well
So one day
Your story you can tell
Back at the Wheel
So life has been pretty crazy for me over the past couple of weeks. Took some time off to get married and throw one of the most amazing receptions I have ever been a part of. The day was just simply amazing and it taught me a lot about myself, life, and my purpose. I am very thankful to be back trying to resume my poetry blog and discovery. I hope that I am able to give some new insights into where I am at currently in my life and continue to grow in my exploration of words, meanings, rhymes, and rhythms. Cheers -Nate
Uncertainty Reigns
Not much on plans
Wish I knew more
About the future
But no such certainty exists
I just hope to survive
Make it through the next week alive
No complaints from me
This is my life to be
I own it and know it well
It makes it no easier
I get asked all the same questions
With all the lack of answers
Some nights are better than others
Some are rough and long
Try to do my best in song
And poetry keep me sane
Challenging the mind and the brain
I hope to create
Rather than destroy
That is the goal
In the end to give back
Rather than take away
And for a late Friday night
That is all I have to say
Goodnight
A Cup of Songwriting 