Cold
Underlining counters
With reflective site
Elbow cold
Down by my side
Granite stones
In suburban homes
This life we live
The truths we own
Lays on top
Of these granite stones
We kid ourselves that we have control
Power
And dominance
We try to fake her
The all powerful
Mother Nature
Control her
But at the end of the day
We have no say
Strange how we arrange our lives
Containing no awareness
We should listen to her
70 degrees in December
It’s more than just weather
Whether or not we act
Enact
Or react
It may be too late
As we watch the sun fade
On a 70 degree December day
The heat is not right
Mother Nature very well may not be on our side
But we will tell ourselves we are alright
Money power greed back in plane sight
And care melts away
As ignorance can enjoy one last
Joy ride
Time for reflection
Stray away in all directions
Hold true
True to let go
On Sunday I owe this ode to you
Sweet coffee
How it has joined great minds
Connecting people in common time
Real time
The fruit of the coffee tree
In Brooklyn connecting lives
Is what it can be
But thank you coffee for today
Somehow you link people up
In a mysterious way
But it is all the same
On a Sunday
Complicated questions
On complicated days
Complicated thoughts
On complicated days
De-complicate me please
Set my uneasy thoughts at ease
Soon I will smell an autumn
New York City breeze
McCarren Park through the trees
De-complicate my fall
In the city
So I can enjoy the beauty
Of the pretty city
Plug me in
Thoughts outside the program
Are the ultimate sin
Emotions are fouls
As older feels
Under the jowls
We are now bread to be emotionless
Plug in technology
Meaningless
How is it
That the one trait
That secures our own humanistic state
Is now to be sought out
Shot down
Not welcomed
Frowned
The highest sense of awareness
Is trumped by sedentariness
Now generations are called to the lowest
Common denominator
I hold my emotions with pride
It is what makes humanity real on the inside
Robotic eclectic humanistic
Is not for me
Realistic
So I will stay unplugged
In the most literal sense
Connected human sense
Until I am not allowed
Life is full of dead end shortcuts
Trying to make it easy
And willing to give up
Long term success
Will find you working hard on Sunday
Meeting your friends for drinks
Monday
And listen to them complain
About life
