2 Dollar Barefoot Friend

Posted on September 30, 2013 by acupofsongwriting

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 Grand Piano

Posted on September 1, 2013 by acupofsongwriting

Touching these keys

Learning the ropes

Can never quite know

If I will ever own a Grand Piano

No complaints

Simple observations

Over one late night practice

A good evening of contemplation

The keyboard is the working mans way

Not sure why

I thought about all the notes I have known

How they come and go

They are the only notes I hold

Hold them close

As the time rolls

And the money shrinks and grows

Falling in and out of my life

But the piano is a constant for me

Beckoning just a simple practice

Rehearsal for the future

But I will never own

One of those

Grand Pianos

Was not my life choice

Money was never my motivation

The crazy life of a musician

That full of life sensation

Wondering around our great nation

Playing for an ear that will listen

And notice

All the notes that flow out of my soul

Unnoticed

While content minds sip on sodas

At the bar where the piano sits

No one gives a shit about it

The grand piano

That I can play

But never own

A musician

On call waiting

Sitting on their phone

No I will never own that Grand Piano

Or a suit to go with it

I will own my songs and my life

And all that is in it

For a short time

A stint some say

Then in time it is all taken away

So in the end I need no Grand Piano

Its not mine to own

I will learn and learn from it

It will become a true friend

But in the end

When the lights are off

Both the piano and I know

I will never own

This Grand Piano

Constricted Constrained and Confused

Posted on July 19, 2013 by acupofsongwriting

Constricted constrained and confused

The moment lies in being used

Or to entertain

I am now bemused

To join these two thought

To create a soothing fluid

Of constant reminders

Of what happened in the past

In the moments viewed

Through the glass

Making my eyes see the world

Around me

That is the confining thought

I cannot see without them

In the summers brought

New ideas and constraints

The glasses around me

My new mind contains

Call Out

Posted on June 27, 2013 by acupofsongwriting

Practice hard

Churn them out

That is what the songwriting life is all about

It is no matter where you are

You have to do

And sing from your heart

That makes songs worth writing

Fingers sliding and bending

Notes ringing and clinging

To every syllable and vowel

That sings from this mouth

Out into the world

To scream and shout

That new songs will be birthed

From hand and shovel

Pulled from the earth

And given a life to live

In peoples ears

This is the gift to give

TV’s On

Posted on June 14, 2013 by acupofsongwriting

Late night at the Italian joint

we sit tired and staring

talking about how we are

going to make our lives

work

6 tv’s blaring telling us what to think

Next I am easily distracted

by the compact box

lighting the room

the food is good and will do

but as for me and you

it has been 10 years in the making

no more waiting

we are going to make our move

but for now in this vacant little resteraunt

we enjoy each other

even with the tv’s on

Urban Desert

Posted on June 8, 2013 by acupofsongwriting

Ughhhh.

–

There is a Walmart round the corner

TGI Friday feeding everyone

Can’t get away from this Urban Sun

It’s not easy for the small guys

when the big names move in

This part of town

The big guy always win

Saw two new stores were moving in

Had a little bit of hope within

What is that I asked on day

Gunna be an AutoZone

A clone of the service store we already have

With my hope wounded and deprived

I asked with hope one more time

What is that going to be

A mattress store for you and me

A matress store?

Oh No
Please say it can’t be

How many mattresses do we all need?

Surely this part of town does not need more beds

I know we lay around a lot

But we are not dead

Or maybe that is why the mattress store moved in

So that we would lay down more often

On beds fresh and softened

I get sad when I think of it

Surely does not make me smile

When the world deals you lemons

I get it my car and drive

Mile after mile

To escape this Urban desert

Infested with corporate chains and detached things

Surely this is no way to live

But who am I to disagree

I just put my pen to paper and hope people agree

That this corporate shit ain’t the way to live

There must be an oasis amid all of this

But when they hang the AutoZone sign

Where I come from it’s just a sign of the times

The small guys ran out of pennies and dimes

So here we are under the Urban Desert Sun

I hold my breathe as I look up

Close my eyes

And run

A Wooden Story

Posted on April 25, 2013 by acupofsongwriting

This is not a story about John Wooden. I mean wooden as in consisting of wood. I took a minute in another hotel room to reflect and think about what my guitar would say – if it could speak. I think it might say some of the things herein – probably a lot more than what I could think of. But I will never know. I just hope it is good – I try my best. I hope you enjoy the story and rock on!

–

What story would this guitar tell

Would it be true

Or would it lie

Would it tell you everything

Or just enough to stop the questions

Would it be loud

Or soft

And kind

Gentle or harsh

Loud and unforgiving

Angry

What would it say

Brag and boast

Or simply tell a small tale

Would it go on and on

Or just talk for a quick minute

I would like to think I have taken care of her

She has worked hard and played hard

I try to let her see the world

Through song and lyric

I expose her to new challenges and obstacles

Experiences and countries

Al the while she continues to stay true

To work hard and stay in tune

She needs a little love and care

And a bit of repair

But on Saturday nights you can hear her

Sing bright in the stage light

Bringing a smile to my face

Resonating at her own pace

I hope she has a great life

When she reflects she can say

Being here with me was much better

Than ok

Life Closer to the Ground

Posted on April 18, 2013 by acupofsongwriting

As I sat tying my shoes I was struck looking down at the cold ground – what would life be like if I lived very close to the ground. I realized very quickly that life would be much much different. It would obviously become very simple in some ways – like pure survival and relying on your senses. But very complicated in trying not to get hurt, dodging, staying clean. There is a lot to be learned from living so close to the ground. So I submersed myself in this to try and see what I could come up with for today’s poem. Enjoy!

–

Life Closer to the Ground

–

What would life be like

If I were only 1 foot high

People would loom large

Skyscrapers connecting with the sky

Would I know more about the earth

The way it is created and breathes

The dirt on the ground

The wet grass and fallen leaves

I would be so dirty and covered

I am sure of this in a city

If any other

I would know more of waste

And disconnect

That everyone feels standing 6 foot

Erect

I would feel the wind blow

Under cars and around poles

Would have to stay dry

Or else I could get too cold

I would discover more about humanity

Than what I may have ever been able to see

Shoes stomping on ground

Throwing garbage around

I would encounter forgotten things

Lost keys and crumbs

All brushed under the rug

Where only I could see

Conversations would occur in the heavens

I would have to stay more connected to the ground

So close now I would not have to look down

I would rely on the land and others

To take care of me and protect me

For I would only be one foot from the ground

Feet shuffling past

People brushing their hands over grass

Gum from years ago

Some from just a second ago

I think I could really learn something

Only one foot off the ground

It is the world

I would get to know

What is