Bitter Styrofoam Celebrity
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The Genius of Catch
If Not for Perfection
–
I wish not for perfection
Rather somewhere
At the intersection
Of preparation
And the continuation
Of ones course
–
The readiness is created
By all the time spent
Re-taking
Take after take
Just for one good virtuous shake
The artist prepares with good intent
Content on rehearsal
Frustrated with constraint
Holding the power to change
Is the key to arranging
The true masterpiece that lies within
–
The strokes fall smooth on the page
Many hours have been spent
To create this moment
In this perfect age
The feelings and the artistry dance
Upon the blank canvas
Creating great swaths of golden hues
No reason to overdue
Simple strokes and committed lines
Hours spent caressing this craft
To create a mindless illusion
The genius of catch
–
Illustrious moments turn to intricate delicacy
As the grand swaths revolve to small movement
This is where preparation meets commitment
Where the small lines have the greatest impact
No thought or stroke left un-in-tact
This creation flows from the mind
Through the heart and blood
To the muscles and fingertips
Out onto the canvas
–
So what was once within
Can be seen without
Having to speak or convey
The image left upon the page
The true masterpiece
Time to Reflect
Time to reflect
On decisions
That have been made
Others postponed
And delayed
–
Where I stand today
May not affect tomorrow
So how do I quite know
If this is where I should
Go
–
So many questions
Yielding very few answers
The scenery does not change
If I just choose to
Stand here
–
The past 3 years
Decisions were not bad
But if I could go back
What would I instruct
That poor young lad
–
I might say
Act with confidence
And cause
What you do not gain
Is not quite a loss
–
Move quick
And stay nimble
The world will not wait
for your heart delayed
its that simple
–
Fear holds you
Hostage at blank point
But behind the gun
Is no ammo
It holds you
Until you let go
–
Youth is fleeting
Do not become to attached
From your young wirey hands
This gift will be quickly snatched
–
But do not lose hope
There is no reason
What you lose one year
You will find stronger
In another season
–
Patience is key
But do not get complacent
Words striking and true
But you truly have to face them
–
In the end
Know your goal
Or destination
There is no minute hand
When the clock is wasting
–
Finally push back
Word hard
And stay committed
When it is all over
You will be glad you did it
–
I hope that in another few years
I can read this back
And have new wisdom
To share
–
But for now
I hope to own these truths
So that I may push on
A time to reflect
Is a time for my heart
To be reset
A Mouth Full of Iron
Just because I am broke
Does not mean that I am broken
–
The heart broken
Knows the languish for success
–
This languish can only be known
Through heartbreak and distress
–
The world around me spins
Yet I have to catch my druthers
–
In a life that is given
One must learn to rely on others
–
But that bitter irony
Creates a burn in ones mouth
–
Leaning on hopes of easier roads
Leaves the heart less than whole
–
Rust collects on the resting
One must move so no dust can begin collecting
–
Subdued Indiana terrain
Toughened the skin with winter pain
–
A mouth full of iron
Cracked on all sides
–
Makes me wonder
Whats is the next curve in life
–
What awaits
What gives what takes
–
Yet
–
Just Just because I am broke
Does not mean that I am broken
Corporate Greed
Corporate Greed
Wants
to feed me
A GMO
I said NO
–
Belly swollen with chemicals
Repulsed by
Shriveled testicles
They can keep their damn GMO’s
2 Dollar Barefoot Friend
My 2 dollar barefoot friend
Say’s don’t forget the gift he sent
I don’t give these away cheap
For this gift I give you now
Was once mine to keep
Is the best I have to offer
Not much monetary
All my pockets could carry
With no shoes on my feet
Keeping my limbs clean
Not a requirement
A choice rather
To stay simple and connected
So on bare feet I stand
Resurrected
He imparted simple knowledge
With a gift of simple patronage
In a coffee house with steam buzzing
People talking
Computer keys chirping
My 2 dollar barefoot friend stood standing
Connected to the ground
In a way so organic and true
His motivation true
Eyes keen on anti-convention
Somehow he felt more alive
With a true world connection
As the night got late he carried on
I went my way he went his
But his two dollar bill
Was his gift to give
And the simplicity of
A barefoot connection
Take a Look
Let’s take a look at the headlines
The twitter feeds
Handles and Hashtags
Feeling a bit out of line
What is coming through the feed line
The umbilical chord of information
Keeping me alive
As my eyes read over every line
Some clowns grab the main light
Stage set for them just right
No need to worry for talent or something new
Just get naked and run around for a few
Headlines running from each side of the States
Somehow I can no longer see straight
To the headlines falling off the page
From computers and newpapers
Wasted on the futile
Infertile information trying to impregnate my mind
With nothing more than wasted time
And energy
Just trying to read head news line
The Dreamer of No Dream
For the dreamers in the world
Who have no dream
Who own the tug boat
With it, no steam
–
For the wonderers
Hoping for all the good
This world can bring
But to afraid to sing
–
Living life out on the edge
For nothing more
Than a simple pleasure
Their life to give
–
I ponder these wondering souls
They wonder the streets
Never quite up
Never quite down
–
The careless attitude they possess
No thought for the formal
No trial for scrutiny
No firm contra success
–
I am grinning as I write
About this loving souls
They have no lingering care
As their bodies grow old
–
I hope that I posses such traits
Striving for life and its blessings
With no crudeness for advantage
Happiness truly is the ultimate bandage
–
I am lifted by simple smiles
The thought of easy hearts brings me back
The dreamer of no dream
Is quite more sophisticated than it seams
–
So here is to the wanders
I hope you find what you seek
Your heart is happy
And your adversaries’ weak
–
Here is to you
Keep the dream alive and well
So one day
Your story you can tell
Farewell and Hello
The day is coming
Finally is here
The barn is ready
The placemats set
Church is waiting
A place to reflect
To set out on a new life
Sail a new ocean
To bid farwell to me
As I once new it
And greet the new
With Hello
I cannot longer hold my past
As it to constrict time
And my future
I go forward brave
Rejuvenated to make life
Work
To work for a new purpose
To shed fear and doubt
To go certainly on a new route
I spend my last days as a bachelor
Reflecting on what I have done
In a short few days
My total will be greater
Than just one
So I sit here peaceful
Hopeful
And quiet
Letting inspiration run
From inception in my brain
To my heart
Through my veins
Down my arms
And out of my fingers
I write
Of how life is going to be different
For better and for worse
Sickness and health
But I am ready for this great challenge
To take up the old me
And move to greater heights
Where I can see new potential
Growing
Going somewhere I do not know
Into the future I will walk
With my feet touching gently
On the ground below
A Pick Me Up Tune
Discontent in the bar on a Saturday
Everyone seems to be okay
Except this one character
Late fifties sniffing for something young
Couple too many drinks he has
Flung
Back
Into his wasted soul
And hardened heart
This man is doing nothing
But playing the creepy old man part
His breathe reeks of alcohol and beer
Harassing the poor musicians to play
A pick me up tune
So he can swoon the younger ladies
Sickened
To my stomach as I see him rummage
Through these civilized people
He is garbage left in the summer sun
Ruining the night life of everyone
His hair slicked back in 80’s fashion
Blond with protruding teeth
Blue eyes that see
Nothing but flesh on the bones of young women
He is sickened me to no redemption
I am but inches away from bending
Flinching into a rage of spirit
So that everyone in this bar can hear it
He is a wasted soul washed up on the shore
For he is that
And nothing more
A Cup of Songwriting 