Hold held gone
What we said
What went wrong
Along the way
Along the route
We hold held gone
And I think
We were all wrong
Hold Held Gone
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Tag Archives: Wednesday
Space to Improve
At 9:39 PM
At 10:37 PM
Returning to eleven
Carry the one
Flip the seven
In moments I realize
My own mistakes
Imperfection
Seldom do I reflect
On these reflections
But I must
Reflect
Correct
And recreate
When there is space
To improve
Right and Wrong
What we do right
What we do wrong
What we screw up
And what we can approve on
That is where I focus
My days on
Rewrite
In hopes of a mad resurrection
My pen falls flat in dejection
More like a renewed redirection
Of my final intention
Words lassoed
And written
Bringing back the words I had not given
I write with the hopes of a new discovery
To go forth and be free
From subtleties
My life long recovery
To write eternally
25 Hours
25 hour car ride
The earth to my right side
Passing trucks to the left
I won’t attest with my old ride
Making our way to the Florida coast
Racing trains
Down the eastern seaboard
Catching cheap hotels
So we can
Sleep more
Passing through Raleigh
And Jacksonville
Some good moments
Some are just a force of will
Highways full
Unable to sit still
From the borders of NYC
To easy coastal city’s
Southern bound
Through America the Pretty
Over Scented Detergent
Oh sweet over scented detergent
Urgent runs to the laundromat
Cleansing liquid of shirts and hats
The ode to the time saver
I know nothing
Of the bubble reducing liquid
On Driggs Avenue I will take you
Replenish my garmets
From jeans to armpits
Undoing yesterdays Thai food
Making my clothes fresh and new
Upon the shoulders of a clean towel
I rekindle my life
Re centered and clean
How expensive in Brooklyn
The costs of a simple wash
Can cost
But without sweet detergent
I may be lost
Forgotten Ground
The greatest of all challenges
Of my generation
Will be to see a life we once had
Nod to a fleeting moment
That the future has no place for the past
Endless consumption could never last
In the place of old habits
Birth new minimal ways
To say
That we no desire what we need
Rather than the desire of heart
We will fight our inner conflict
Lives lived between iron curtains thick
Of inter web communities
It will the true call of unity
When we give up a hand
Rather than an app
We come back to making the US great
Rebuild and innovate
That is my hope
Upon decimated buildings
We can build a new future
With knife and suture we will repair our wounds
Unto prosperity bound
From town to town
Reclaim forgotten ground
Blue Print Plan
Hard to imagine
That my body is not the same
As five years ago
There is no blue print plan
Mentality expands
Trading wisdom for youth
I don’t recognize the latter
In a picture
Or anything for the matter
Music a new pathway sends
Seeing sunsets through revitalized lens
How is it that I can be the same
Not feeling anything the same
Physically all new
Just the name
Is the one part that stays the same
Yet my mind continues on a linear path
For it is a wonderful question to ask
How we can rebirth ourselves
Yet maintain the constant roots
Even when I awake before the dew
It is still me
It is still you
Unknowingly Unknown
A case of distracting news
One that one can not simply refuse
The future of art
Is held in the arms of one minds repose
Unknowingly unknown
Somehow the highest calling
Is called from a distant awning
The creation of art
To focus on filters
Rather than a focus in part
Somehow the filters of heard and unheard
Call out some higher prestige fallen
On a certain selection of words
The construction of words
All hail to the critics
It’s all pretty sick
A devastating form of salutation
Pounding into my mind
I hold back the gates
Unfiltered
Untamed
I learned from my mistakes
The best form of creation
Happens in pure refinement
In an attempt to fasten the muscles
To make a call to creation
A new creation in the making
Sweating Souls
Love makes summer seem
Soft and seemingly subtle
Keeps the air
From sweating my soul
Hands touch hands
Cheering in splashes
Crashing soft on the shores of
The ocean
Winds of sands blown
On the southern beaches of
Virginia
8 hours from home
For it is in Love
That we are truly never
Alone
A Cup of Songwriting 