New Years Sky
New York City
Bustling streets
Everyday dreams
On the streets
Lifted up to
Empire high
Ever upwards
And continually so
Feeling the New Years glow
New Years Sky
New York City
Bustling streets
Everyday dreams
On the streets
Lifted up to
Empire high
Ever upwards
And continually so
Feeling the New Years glow
The western coffee cup
Above the border
Where the wind is mild
And peaceful
Where the palms
Sway late into the night
Los Angeles
Abounds
When the western coffee cup
Is had west of town
The trees save us
Deliver us from our
Own perils
As we fall prey to
The toxins
We emit everyday
A tree
Can save us
As it has before
Growing from the ground floor
Taking us under its shade
Please save us trees today
A rotten destiny
Filled with blasphemy
Blaming infamy
Of tyranny
On the everyday man
And woman
Even
And odd
But when people die
Not even the truth can imply
That responsibility is ours
Behind these bars
I scream
Bravery and shutdown
The juxtaposition
Of nature’s
Vs
Nurture
How our composure
Is tested
For our future
Are we brave
As we brace
For the changes
Of a slowing race
You tell me
The abundant contradiction
Flows unknowingly
Flowingly
From the words of misguided souls
In words we see
The eternity
Of fluid
Lies
From the lips of
Cold settled
Hearts
Contradictions abound
While the wind that moves
Through our lips
Make the sound
Empire spirit
In the New York City skyline
All the way down 10th
And the wooded skyline
A spirit that resides
In my heart
Well past the moments
When from the city
Which I depart
Holding up my head
Teaching me where my feet go
And what direction I am led
For one only leaves the city
To achieve a higher calling
For the empire spirit goes past
When memories don’t last
A sympathetic facade
For the problems I don’t understand
In worlds unlike my own
My experiences limited
To the places I’ve gone
My external demeanor
With attention acute
As with a scientific procedure
I procure emotions
Detect shared moments
And respond in kind
With no tired hounds
Under my eyes
With time
The faces seem strange
Yet odd
With a distant and cold
Sympathetic facade
Is there space on the bus
Moving in one straight line
In space and time
All along
While the bell rings
From the yellow line
All the way down the roads
As the old chains creek and pull
The linear bus and its passengers
Freewheeling
At last
Notorious jurisdiction
Makes it heard
A new infliction
Point and moment
Sight unseen
This is what the new world means