The constant race
Of the human race
Coming face to face
With realities
Of what will Be
What will not be
Committed to a community
Of people breathing and sleeping
Communicating all sensations
Of creations
Temptations
Frustrations
Sharing with each other
The ideas of lovers
People hate
Other continue to love
We work well
On a Wednesday swell
Of the city
On the ground
In the NYC Town
The clock hands read the time
I search for subtleties and easy rhyme
Ideas created, lost, and forgotten
Are on my mind
Streets filled with afternoon light
Thoughts flow intermittent the skies
Rhetorical questions
Repetitious in their nature
Some thought will find me
Grab me
Then forgotten it has become
It is in my lazy procedure
I wrap my mind around signs
Posts, lamps, and lights
However I try to find
The original thought of mine
With no luck I proceed
To write new poems
Of unsung ideas
And forgotten seeds
–
I always seem to forget great ideas before I write them down. I seem to think that I can commit them to my failing memory – content with my attempts, then move on. Only to find out the next day, that those thoughts and inspirations have all but vanished. Leaving me at my desk looking for inspiration, so on some days my inspiration is the ideas lost among the other things in my life. Cheers and have a great day. ~N
Under the Empire sun
The city resets in the evening
Continual receiving
Thick lines run blurred into the night
The world centers herself
Around the NYC shelves
From Jackson Heights
To the Bushwick and Greenpoint
We held hands
As we felts our way
Through a city heralding a
Skyline
Heralding
The sun
We blink our eyes
Rub them dry
To see the Empire sun
Settle over the western sky
Over the east river
We await
Waiting
For yet another day
How can dust exist in such plethora
Consuming humans in black filth
Penetrating apartments with stealth
What is the creator
The destroyer
Yet it plooms from every
Vehicle brimming black and burdened
From the backs of trucks
Tossed lightly into the air
To begin it journey
Destination unknown
Yet it flies just softly enough
Through the screens
Into our homes
Where it land
Collects friends
Possibly propagates
Until we have the motivation to cleanse
Purging our home from such creations
Out the shoot
And back into the circle
Of the dust migration
I fear the mold
The uniformity theory
Of stripping conscious dignity
Of the you
Me
Pushing us forward
Never to look back
A pack of wolves
Now breathing down
My back
I fear the mass productions
Facilities
Consistency is key
Holding the soul back
From being free
I understand
Accommodating the masses
But with accommodation
Comes subtle backlashes
Loss of autonomy
Fostering dependancy
I look up
See arrows pointing ahead
I can’t help but wonder
If I’d be
Better off
Dead
2 flights of stairs
2 more stairs
Who cares
I am counting
Legs burning
From constant churning
Click and trip
Hold myself on the
Red stick
That makes a railing
The no smoking sign above my head
Make it to the second floor
Then off to bed
The city swells with summer anticipation
Participation in a phenomenon
Of chanting out the spring
Rushing in the summer
People begin to emerge late nights
On Manhattan Ave.
Speaking louder than in the cold months
Making new promises
Creating new lives to be lived
All this as the winter and spring
Give
Way to a new season
Of excitement
To relish again
That warm summer air
Forget winter cold
Take off your jacket
Live without a care
How much damage could we prevent
If we just took the time to say hello
To our neighbors
Not to spy
But to just show that you want to know
How they are doing
I find it amazing that dangerous people
Can live normal lives
In normal houses
With normal neighbors
Quietly living
Yet amazed
That these monsters would not stick out
With a simple hello
One may be able to understand
Through a quick introduction
The heart of a man
People so dangerous
Unruley
Can live as a neighbor right next
To you and me
We are by nature now self governed
I look out for you
You look out for me
So it is now our responsiblity
To ask questions
Know who you live next to
What they do
Simple chat now and then
I offer that you may find
The sinister ways of a fellow
Discovered or remittted
With a simple hello
I will take your odds
As odd as it seams
To be on far fetched dreams
No reason or bearing
On the future or past
No reason for overbearing
Copious caring
I will take the odds
Stacked against my favor
To savor each moment
In a town of full life enrollment
I face critics pen and ready
To shake their heads and while
Keeping their hands steady
Conformity breeds
Bland crackers
Watering down
Running into the sewers
Out of the streets
I will take your odds
You odd game
Make my best
Consistently
And soon
I will see
The coffee is decent
The lights are bright
A bit over roasted
But tastes alright
Trying to delay
A return to NYC
No need for me
To sit in traffic
On the BQE
Rain outside
Makes me further delay
Getting anything of substance
Done today
The tolls will wait
The taxis will still be there
Just trying to delay
My return
To the city
Today
A Cup of Songwriting 