What I knew
I had to relearn
Over And over
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Tag Archives: The New Yorker
Blasted Temptation
Blasted temptation
A wide as a mile
As potent
Fragile
Hope looks up
Desperation down
Looking for the good
Sometimes
Even gets me down
The Metered Approach
A metered approach
When the pain
Meets the brain
In moments of doubt
And confusion
Slowed down
To adapt to the motion
Listening to the muscles
Listening to the brain
Moving slow
When we are in pain
Hope Check
Send the check
As fast as you can
Hand it over
Just as we planned
Cover the bull
And the bill
Some loose change will do
Hold up the hundred so you can see
Through
Hope check sent in the mail
Held onto and saved
To a forest path
It has been paved
A Tale of Two Friends
A tale of two friends
Destiny begins
When fate ends
Around the corner
A separate situation
No preface needed
And no intimidation
Hope and dreams
Caught in the seems
Between two friends
As a message resends
No apology needed
When the conversation is heated
Between two friends
And that’s where this story
Ends
Reign Size Ring Size
Reign size
Ring size
Committed
Or confused
I guess the words
Meaning are up to you
How long to reign
How long can desperation
Stay the same
Bride Cereal
Bride cereal marry me
On top of flakes of
Sincerity
A magical potion
Of wheat and protein
Lipids and things
Unseen
Take me away in
The morning hours
Bride cereal you have
My power
Flex Defendant
The flex defendant
Showing power over the weak
And resistance to the strong
Defense has a way
Of proving others wrong
To which party do you belong
A defense required for some
Wrongdoing
Mistakes made
Now someone is suing
Flex the great muscle of confusion
And deter
The truth
Flex defendant
Has no oath to prove
Mosquito Desk
Mosquito desk
Of the late spring
Bringing in the scene
Of summerlings
Mosquitos buzzing
In the woods and near the ankle
Mosquito desked carved
From the same woods
That share the forest
Mosquitos deflect the seasons
And arise in the summer
Anew
Poetry Day
Poetry day
Words on the lips
Feelings in the bones
Up the leg
And out the hips
Sunday
A day of reflection
Some say
But today
For me
Is poetry day
A Cup of Songwriting 