The Sweet Coffee Croon

Out the window

A new view

Of a city on the northern end

Sunswept USA 

Cloudy holding pattern

On the skies of gray

Friends of one another

Iron clad stories conversations

Happy and sad

Feet popping out of sandals

Summer fires are now past due

Which leaves just me and you

In this cafe 

Flipping crisp new pages 

A delicate smell of expensive hand wash

Worn about the white room

Back on the open road soon

For now we swoon each other

With mellow mugged coffee to croon sweet into

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The Fresh Ocean

Fall asleep to the sound

Of the fresh ocean

Inland bound

The Southern shore of Lake Michigan

Eyelids flutter a bit slower and softer

Mind easing into a simple place

No place on the face of this earth

As still and quiet as the southern shores

It’s a magical sleeping potion

On the shores of the fresh ocean

The Familiar and Strange

A run in 

With the old hood

Unkept feelings brushing in

Like they should

Faces familiar and strange

Somehow the world spins

And the hood stays the same

The coffee is still sweet

With aroma swept out on the streets

I miss and fear this place

Staying in place

Erase time with a new perspective

With my heart strings

All interconnected

We left years ago 

To leave behind

The fields of northeast Indiana

Without a plan

We left our lives here

Unchanged and untouched

By the hands of time 

Repair our Wounds

The bags are full

On the hardwood floors

My wife looks at me

“I’m not sure I can do this anymore”

Life is rough 

Getting ready for the road

But when opportunity calls

We know no more

Than to go 

Repair the wounds

And hope for a full room

The lessons we learned 

The muscles we have conditioned

For a true living condition

And we push on

A Tradition of Bad Decisions

Oscar has no love for fraternities

On that note

Oscar’s love left him

When she was in a sorority

I guess she had different

Priorities

While the majority of the US

Has the tradition of bad decisions

Oscar from Paris

Sees it much differently

He said that everyone

Was into his french accent

He was a type of delicacy

At these types of sororities

But they lacked in advanced thought

Somehow this childish nature

Would furnish a top degree

Oscar could not disagree more

I found this conversation

At a bar in Brooklyn

With delightful fascination

Oscar and me

Talking about sororities

In New York City

Sympathetic Inflections

I am no controlled spirit

Untamed and overgrown

My emotions can be so

Easily swung

Not the words that I am

Proud of

Not in pride am I congested

When I am over zealous

My heart can be to little

Protected

How is it that the same tricks

With new names

Can catch a heart beat

All the same

If I could only go under cover

Into my own deepest detections

Pull out the weakest of

Sympathetic

Inflections

So rather than pick up

The pieces from hopes unmet

I could let my heart down easy

Lay it to rest gentle

While it’s quiet on the set

However my heart will wrestle me

At every turn

Up and down

It’s always involved

Every choice

All around

Industrialized Edges

The tall heights of towers

Lingering over industrialized edges

Waterfront

West of the city

Graffiti rich in depth and texture

From the skies to my feet

Greenpoint on the edge of the East River

Stirring up dust 

Unsettled 

Tell the tale

Of a big town

On the banks of the Hudson

Sweet Subtleties

The sweet subtleties of the city

Through the breeze of leaves

Blossom from the long winter

Spring man now enter

In the calmness of May

May we be entertained by the weather

Alone

The gentle feel of a mild day

Close your eyes

To feel the city lift you away

The Great Pressure

How is the brain

Wired in such a way

That even simple tasks

Under great pressure

Can seem so unachievable

So distant

Out of control

How is it that ideas

Thoughts and motions

Can move my head

In evening rest

To stay awake all night

To turn left and right

So irritable the mind can be

When the pressure is turned high

On me