Time back in the old neighborhood
Where it feels right
So good
Parking late night journeys
Leading to a morning early
Seeing the skyline
With a dusty cloud sitting
Just above the tall buildings proud
Good to be back in the city
Lonely protect
Flying out
Like a bird or insect
Protect from harm
And delusion
Even when it’s the possible
Solution
We must protect the work around
Even when there is no sound
On our own
Our own responsibility
Advice Index
Running down
The lists
Of avenues
Of context
Taken away or added
Looking for hope
Never felt so
Dramatic
Approval points
Heard from the televisions
Buzzing in the background
Requires
A lot of attention
Held up by politicians hopes
Of ascension
Not just one dimension
So a frantic dramatic approval
Is given
When all we need
Is for others to ask
To be forgiven
An original piece
Or composition
Had me thinking
Had me wishing
To create a hope for a future
Of writing my own tunes
Make a melody to start
Harmonize from the notes
Original pieces played
Life in New York City
Held up by pasta
Dishes on Sunday nights
With a distant tune
Playing us into the eve
As our fears melted away
While the cars honk their horns
A style of living
Not to be confused with
Ambient feelings
Minimalism in the moment
Of life and detection
My hope is that the work
Of white walls and planted vases
Will mean a more meaningful life
In its place
Around the corner
A new gate created
For me to walk through
Under the pass
And into the blue
Late night load in
With slippery clay
Under the foot
With a storm on the way
Get in the room
Soon
As the rain falls swift
And the lighting boom
Shoes of dirt lie on the carpet
Drying
As the sun is gone
And the crickets are vying
If we can’t work together
Then there is no path forward
Nothing for us to look
Forward to
Seeing each other through
In a day
When all the words seem
To melt away
Into the deep grey unknown
Looking for the world
Seeking a home
With each other
One as one
Each our sister
Each our brother
A Cup of Songwriting 