Walking into the room
Of debonair air
Confidence
Wrapped in golden dreams
Broken loose
At the seems
Is it what it seems
As slick as a midnight limo
Fluid as a stream
Debonair
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Tag Archives: Songwriting
Null Word
Null word
Will leave less of an impression
As a state of degradation
Watering down the hopes
Of all the nation
Pail Zest
My pail zest
On a spring day
From the wintery holds
Of the bitter grey
I emerge
Ready for spring
What the summer rays
Will bring
The Only Way Up
The only way up
Is never to complain
To ask to start again
To wither in the hope of progress
But to advance
Head above the dust
Feet planted on the ground
Working for the moment
Pushing all around
From the dash of the withered
One pushes slowly on
On and on
Up and up
Move any way
Rather than giving up
Santa Monica Sun
Along a winding path
Paved sun-glazed cement
Baked with a hazy grey sealant
With summer shoes
Raking the rocks
Along the freckled
Grass
Sunscreen scented fragrances
Illuminating hiatus
Under the strung out
Santa Monica Sun
Franchise Virus
The franchise virus
Growing from the roots
Of a dead cypress
Cold pressed nightmares
Held up by titans
Each man has a turn
To flame the words
Caught up on the wings
Of drunken birds
By night
And by day
What the naysayers say
Is the franchise lies
Being manufactured day
And night
Dirty Hands
Dirty hand
Never quite know
That in the depths washed
You can not quite get all of the
Dirt
If dirt is on the hands of man
Whose hands toil in the dirt
No notice is paid
But on the hands of a banker
On the hands of a tycoon
We wonder
Where does this dirt come from
The dirty hands
That can’t be washed clean
The Other Guy
Not a football type
Not a sportsman
Or a marksman
Not a fleet-footed runner
Not a Hercules
Different
But not to much
I’m the other guy
A craftsman of words
Tied up in outlandish hopes
Of artistic fancies
Guess I would rather be
Walking than dancing
Oh to Fly
Oh to fly
Away from the noise
Higher than the clouds
Get away
When the world
Is pulling me down
Oh to fly like a bird
In a fresh moment
Go with the wind
Go sing songs
Songs of love
Songs of hope
Birds will fly
I wish I could go
Take It
Should we await a new fate
New destinies on the horizon
In our own time and function
With our own satisfaction
How can we learn from each other
New and open ideas
Spread through conversations
With the one’s we know
And those we do not
Here comes a chance
And I hope we take it
A Cup of Songwriting 