Just Taking a Walk in the Neighbrohood

I was listening to a some Tom Waits the other day,

puts me in a certain frame of mind,

if you know, you know what I mean,

you know what I want to say,

so I just listen to the blues and try to find my way.

 

I was thinking just the other day, about a neighbor,

someone I know, they know me,

we all seem to know each other,

especially when we do have that chance,

the rare opportunity to say hello, a courtesy.

 

See it is not as much about the neighbor as it is,

each other, all of us, walking around

today, tomorrow, any other day,

it’s about the wonder of our lives,

whose do we touch, and will they every touch ours.

 

I’m sitting in a coffee shop, still listening to the blues,

Tom Waits kind of sets the tone,

for your day, for some of you the week,

like sitting in an old rusty bar,

and he steps out of the blind with a guitar.

 

We all do walk the same neighborhood, together,

oh we carry our crosses, for some it is

that famous albatross from an old piece of

literature,

I believe it was Coleridge, one of the dead guys.

 

Point is the music continues, the riffs, the melodies,

the lyrics that seem to so mellow, haunt our lives,

so we can all believe in it together,

we do love to feel, to believe, to wonder, to wish,

perhaps walk the same paths we all would wish to choose.

This Quiet Passion

It is a love, a desire, a response to silence,

for so many occasions,

while the skies do glance the usual,

always, the emotions might trigger,

might respond,

could offer a storm of wrath,

or perhaps,

when least we anticipate,

a light rain, to cleanse our soul,

allow our lives to breathe,

beyond the casual haze

of a summer day.

 

I stood in front of my emotions today,

asked a question,

perhaps stoic in my way,

I wondered just how far

we might have to travel

in order,

to participate in the aftermath

of chaos,

for it screams that phenomena

stayed with my being,

for as many days as the summer

holds true to an autumn.

 

While now I rest my weary soul,

the fortune of time offers sweet Grace,

when age becomes validation,

and hearts do forever listen.

I have traveled far and wide,

and yet there is a stillness,

may overcome me in evening’s tide,

as will the serendipity of passion,

an surreal reality as I stand here before you,

wanting only solace from a sweet panic.

 

In life, we do lead with thoughtful enterprise,

a notion, an ideal,

oft times an inspiration,

to market goodness,

to experience that

goodness,

to know such character

is infamy

when stood alongside

true character.

When passion speaks its favor,

our world, a planet, a state, a society,

a mosaic,

we are all

so much – so little – so together,

 

We can be universal,

we may align, smile, gesture, accord

each other …

we can be one.

I Still Want To

No matter the time of day,

whether the sun rise, the moon be full,

in the event of pouring rain,

I still do,

I still want to

“I still haven’t found what I’m looking for”

such prophetic lyrics can change my day,

from a bleak vacuum

a disparate state of mind,

to one wholly visible,

one certainly inclined,

to pursue our lives together.

Laughter, Please

When I glance I want to see smiles,

no matter the time of day,

to see happiness can go on for miles

there’s really no other way,

to describe how vital our lives can be,

and how quickly drained

we might become if unable to see,

the beauty maintained

in a pretty reflection of who we might

imagine ourselves to feel.

We have to recognize that every night,

we are never alone to deal

with quiet sadness, departures from good.

We can live together,

get along with the world so close we could,

really love one another.

We need to know our lives are free to please

we need to know that hereafter

there’s a way to get through our day with ease,

laughter, please, laughter.

All About the Tears

Someone told me the other day

seems an easy line to say,

they really did though,

spoke those words

what the suggestion means

one doesn’t know

can only imagine

perhaps use a visual trigger

when everything we do

creates a shockwave effect

that rings a bell countries away,

that wouldn’t actually make a noise

if not for the time he said

a couple of words

and she said

I’ve had enough of you,

and then we both looked at each other

and thought to ourselves,

all those weeks of worry and concern

all the sleepless nights,

the foggy stirring of our coffee

absent to the rest of the world,

just focusing on the grains rising to the top,

in every moment

every part of our day,

we decide,

we know well enough,

the answer long before

we imagine there is a solution,

yet, we present certain obstacles,

those moments of indecision ,

that in our hearts we know,

will ease the reservoir,

allow the waters to flow,

freedom, the urge to release

every obstacle we create.

Ordinary People

I saw them today,

on the street corner,

standing together,

holding hands in smile,

then the bus came,

and they were gone.

~

While I was driving home,

the light changed to red,

glancing aside, they were

chatting in animated form,

I wanted to say hello,

just then the light …

~

At night, I sit amongst them

each with their own desire,

maybe not the same as mine,

somehow still in the same place

I think the notions are similar,

this place is not our home.

~

We see throngs flock outside

all the many believers

they do exist, some tell me,

when the lights go out,

they all seem to want,

somehow the same thing.

~

I wander throughout my day,

and look upon the world

around me, all caught up

in some new fad, a dance

of circumstance, masks the

ordinary people we care to be.

Shelf Time

Such a delight it would be

to live a life by the sea

hear the ocean waves slap

soft the combed beach nearby.

~

In just the romance of time

we can transport ourselves

to a sunlit horizon bathed

in delicious blends of sound.

~

I walk with you

you walk with me

and together we seem

to be … somewhat, free.

~

Yet, while you were away

I came to terms with me

only to now understand

perhaps my shelf-time.

~

Glance outside the room

see them all stroll by

seems they haven’t a dime

of interest as layers grow

~

Oh what I might give

for a wrecking ball

right now, to hit

the side of my life

~

sends me helpless reeling

tossing about all hope

simply looking at the fall

the inevitable last shatter

~

Why there could be a day

when together again we

stroll along a sandy beach

thinking as one you and me.

~

Until that time I’ll dream

about the last shudder

of earth that is felt

when the whipping ball

~

strikes home.