Desperation of Desolation

The desperate times

Desperate measures

Come up with something good

A productive measure

In times worn thin

As the veil of light

Through the morning curtains

We have to continue to

Rely on food decisions

To set us right

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Day to Be

The coming days to be

Letting go of what was familiar to

You and me

A city

A life

For bigger and better

Discoveries and journeys

Letting go

While others hold so tight

That they squeeze the life

Out of the joy

Thy love

And love left

It will be

Just on the Outskirts

Bradley is a happy man

He falls asleep on the island

To the sound of a bellowing fog horn

Cutting through the air as rich as worn leather

He awakes to coffee that envelops him

With a hug

Rather than a mere raspy handshake

He is content on the coast

Billowing up steam from a morning roast

Falling asleep as the fog crosshatches the eve sky

Across the bay

Happy till the day he may day

Rent control his eternal protection

Umbrella’s held in rather polite distinction

Humanity’s bustle he has no strict participation

Watching the sunrise

Heightened by windy anticipation

However the wind blows

On the edge of the sleepy little beach town

Bradley has it right

Bradley is a happy man

Just on the outskirts of San Fran

 

Here in Front of Me

Everything I need is right here in front of me

My hands, eyes, hope, desire

Everything I can use to bring myself higher

Hard work is the barrier

Constraining my own ethic

I feel that I have now realized this simple truth

What you focus on grows

What you forget about goes away with old

So I must refocus on what is in front of me

All the tools I need

Are surrounding me

Asking me

I will answer

Slip and Slide of Lethargy

Information technology

Slip and slide of lethargy

Connected eyes

With screens to see

Distracting cells of energy

I pull away empathetically

Hoping for some new life in me

How is it that machines can lock in

On holding tight to my time and skin

Settle my movements and actions

Taking me into dead satisfaction

I am weary of these offers

Video games makes normal

The martyrs

So I will walk away

Until the next day

The lights illuminate my face again

Time on the Run

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

So long gone

So many more to come

Hours pass like minutes

Days pass like hours

Weeks pass like days

Months pass like weeks

Years pass like months

Growing up

Time on the run

I must settle myself

Settle these days down

To take in the beauty all around

Keep looking up

Only check once to look down

 

Rapid Scores

The leather cold from a chilly morning
Sand from clothes the night before
One grain less
One grain more
The birds chirp rapid scores
Pushing me out the door
The radio belts out last nights memories
Sent me off for the night
Making the ways
For new
Broken in
Days

Discount Advice

Discount advice

Should not weight more than

A grain of rice

Be thought over

More than

The passing thoughts in flight

We do not subscribe

To your tele-vibe

Confide in your free laced advice

We create our own paths

From present to past

And we

Will live on

Fatal Direction

Enter fear and dismay

Enter the feelings of dissarray

Collapsing feeling of connection

Pushing me back in my fatal direction

I ask questions for circumstance

Happenstance of my direction

I fall on flat notes of musical indecision

Lacking a true rhythm section

We select naturally

What happens supernaturally

And exit stronger men

 

Burning Winds

The Santa Ana winds have picked up

On the east coast we have the

West in mind

Fires burning bright

Brightest in a long time

Broken spirits and hopes

Go out with our thoughts

Protecting homes

Thinking on LA in NY

A terrible fire season ahead

The winds picking up in every direction

It is our thoughts and prayers

We are a sendin’