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The work is grief,the work is not grieving.Grieving begets the grief,acceptance breaks the mold,rest rests.

You said I’ve gotten too comfortablebeing on my own,and maybe I have.A pandemic, a recovery,and a civil fracturing not ready for it’s recovery,all time I’ve spentdigging deepand building myself back up. You see, I thought that was the point.I took painful times and doubled downbecause I couldn’t kid myselfin the vacuum of joy to be…

On the doorstep of departure,the truth settling in,of how this chapter endsand the next begins. Anxious feelings fill my stomachalongside the joy that’s left to digest,and the stress that needs it’s rest. I don’t know if I’ll cry or sing,or dance or die,I don’t know what’s on deck for mebecause I’ve been living daily,free-ing myself…

How does the cash flow?Where do the flowers go?Do they witherwithout a home?A million eyesof passer byes,on displaytill their end.

The pull for me to gothe call for me to stay,decisions I don’t want to makedecisions have their dayof expiration,no by omission,until the final bell has tolledI’ve chosen not to stay.

Is it credit or liability,indebted to the future,want the world to sing its praisenowbeforeyou desert it.

Wandering,will you let me in your doormy friend?It’s the first time,yet we meet again,in passing for a moment.Not long this timefor each to growembracinga moment.

May flowers flowerand bring a newa pollen air,sweet morning dew.

Especially, espanishly, eventually,ly ly lydangerous, deceptive,ly ly, ly?I might get lostalong the scenic route,and when I’m lostI may discoverwhat the routeis all about.

Rosebud thorns, I’m left to be alone,until it all comes crashingthrough the wall, a momentI can’t deny.

Tuesday rings of cheer,the rest is nearly near.Two cups full, one cup down,the rest is only now.

The last call rang,the lady sang,the bar now smellsfresher than the morning,fresher than the patronwho drank too long.

Totally flaccid air,placid,expended to the limit.

We raise the glass, to sip it down.We raise the vibe, to sip it down. Is life too muchwhen the light shines bright?when laughter fills the room?when safetysettles in? We celebrate, to crash the next day.We celebrate, to our own dismay.

Am I coping or am I caged?Is my reality stagedby my own direction?Are the keys to the castlein my own hands?Have I been watching my gamefrom the back of the stands?

Your songs all sound the same,a blur into the backgroundof monotone creativity,of that tonethat you can’t let go. Static evolution,low to no slope.Praying that your vibe will last,coasting on the hope.

The cut is deeper than the woundthe scar that healed too soon,unready for new beginningsfor fearof what’s to come. Enticed to overcome,for all the painand healing to be done.Enticed to runfrom what could repeat,the cut is deeper than the wound.

I’ve been knocking on doors,slow knocking,loud knocking,trying to figure out each and every waythat I could make a paycheckso that I could make the pain-less.Underpaid and overcompensated,Underviewed and overrated. My talents seem to go awashin the whirlpoolconsumingthe river.

Leaves change colour,seeds turn to green,a million miles between usand the stars up above.

I’ve been throwing you under the bus.I’m sorry.I don’t know what else to saywhen you’re nowhere to be found.

Craving connectionthis stomach feels empty,or ready?to take on something new.Letting go of intellectualusual expectations,a reverberating repetition,doomscrolling,screen peaking,when people are right in front of me. Maybe. Maybe if I can connectI’ll stop feeling like I’m wrong,or falling apart.Do I need someone elseto put the stopper back in the tubthat I unplugged? Maybe,just maybe,it’s about my aim…

How to concretewhat feels like sandand slips through handsunready to receive? How to signalthrough passive minglethat this hearis ready to receive? Is it them or meor this space that we’re in?What can I dofor things to begin.

I’ve got the keys to the castle, the work is on demand,behold the truth of the story told,the floorboards worn to mold.There’s little left to prepare, for now,and so much left to enact,I’ve got my tools, needed or not,and a lifetime leftto craft.

What am I fighting for?What does the fight require?Could I sustain,hold my own ground,if to fightwas my desire.

I gotta get up on the mic and share the flowbecause the whole world know thatprose is power. I gotta standup on my feet to defeat the plaguebecause the truth remains thatprose is power. prose is power. prose is power. A couple minutes pass by without one liebecause the whole room know thatprose is power.…

Rainy daysI don’t seem to mind,a million momentsto bide my time.

I will fuck this dirt.who ain’t love the earth, alwayspeepin’ up their skirt

Undeniable, exasperated, the drama is exaggeratedoverrated, compensated, everything but masturbated.I keepwriting these songs, for things to come along,I staytwiddling thumbs, am I doing something wrong?Or am I too impatient, is the wait so long? Poppin’ bread out of the oven, but it’s all half baked,now the heat’s all gone, to check was my mistake,so I…

So many ways to cook a potato.I put my fork in it. I’m done.So many feelings to undress.So many takes to deliver.Ready for a mealand dealt a sliver.Famished, unhampered,to end the starvation.Loving the processwhile doubting my faith in this nation.

Frustration rings,you didn’t sing,I told it all out first.You took my time,and pled no crime,because of youand your design. I’ve kept my worthfully in tact,your jig is upI didn’t act. You hardly care,lost in despair,to look for bits of truth. It’s for the best,I carry my chest,but I’ll miss the hopeno lest.

There’s so much fakeness,I’m starting to doubt what’s real.To see someone clothed and smilingsimply feels surreal. We’ve evolved from snakeoil through photoshopto filled up lips and one stop shops,and so many say the jig is upthen they join the crowd with a custombut everyone else is doing it,and there’s no where else to find this,and…

Would you ever give us the time of dayif your camera wasn’t here?The crowd is now half emptyfrom the fakeness that you smearall over the wallsof the world wide web,all over the mirrorof your depraved creative shed.

Love moves forward in all ways,always,climbing up the mountains,smiling at the peaks,honoring the seconds,honoring the weak.

It’s curious to see how managersjerk each-other’s chains,some interactionsleaving the rest deranged. Unphased,the rest work without restlest they give themselves the chance,because what is praiseamidst the chemical romance?

My worth isn’t clear to you.Is yours to you?I’ve fought for our love to shinebut you can’t see me too. Offended by my body’s nature,as if it’s up to me,well I’m offended by how you seeand how the love you claimdeceives –the reality of our differences,the way we respect one another,the truth that has always…

Birds, birds, birds.Why do they fly?Weeks pass bywithout a need to cry.Sun veils lift the moon,the horizon ever growingtrue steps always showingfor a heart that is open.

Water drips down the sidewalkof bags drenched in decay,dismay,delay,we prayfor cleaner days.

Aftershocks,reverberations of revolutionsand resolutionsand hesitations, left unstopped. Untopped it pours,spilling onto the counter,off the counter,onto the floor. The puddle shakingdrops floppingout and in,out and in. The dust settling into mandalic patterns,disturbed with each breathof a mind that didn’t pauseto catch it’s breath.

Storm winds welcome rain,upending time once again.A moment coming for our souls to bear. Do we preparefor pains to come? Do we relish the peace time,and cherish the sun?The mistaken will fall,tripping on their own thin skin,while the clear of mindwill continueto begin.

It feels like things are coming together,just so they can fall apart.I’d like to think the pain is done,but I know the change is no reruns. What’s to come is to be told,the same old same has gotten old.No need to repeat,no need to double down,no need to regret,no need for fake frowns. If what’s…

Close to bear,smiles not stares,the density breathes,the detritus leavesclear the streetsas the spring upheavesscenes of green.The rain fogs over,yet nobody cares,dancing naked in the rainwithout a glare. The noise is silent,an ever present roar,with everything a block awayhow could one want more?The city never sleepsand the streets could eat your soul,but pay the tolls and…

Worn down floors,funny water pressure,miscellaneous issues.I definitely didn’t pick out anything fancy.But it’s not falling apart at the seams,and it puts me where I want to be.New York.

Sparks fly,I got the magic in me,people want to knowwhat I can see,to make it realto make a dealto clarifyto make a meal.

What do you want to know?I don’t need no introduction,No label does me justice,no justice needs to label. Am I –that privileged white male,raised too good,a pawn of the systemand our capitalist hell? Am I –an overeducated nerd,three years ahead,thirsting for knowledge,dissecting every word. Am I –A football jock or flamboyant cheerleader,a follower, or a…

Feelings where I do not feeljust so I can make a meal.Filling yet I am not filled,mistaken to make a deal. I hold every blade of grassas if it could be my four leaf clover.I’m stuck between myself and youover and over.

Options on the tablecharcuterie to choose,tastes to explorewith nothing real to lose. All playing each otherto get our cards right,All striving for somethingto end each night.

I’ve been asked to speak louder,How loud should I go?I don’t know what my voice sounds like.I don’t know how loud it can go. It’s not that I’m afraid, to say these words,it’s that I feel fear, when I say my words.You see truth hurts when you feel cursedto speak what you perceive.No I don’t…

Brain bleedsuncongealed,left out on the pavement. Spoke too soon,uncaged,I didn’t hate it. Unbeknownst to me,I couldn’t see,how far I have come. Brain healsrecongealedleft out in the sun.

Every chance comes in windows,Are you ready for the dip? Sip, sip.Life’s a trip.Are you worried that you’ll slip? Each leap of faithis aptly named,but will you do your bit? Nothing comes easy,the elder ones tell.Their time may be dyingbut some live it well.Each chance that we takeis a mistake if we don’t. So what…

What games we play,this conscious thing,to blur the linesof what’s in betweenleft and rightup and downin and outall around. Orthogonal dimensionlesswindowslesspanes. Time tickscircularnowhere. Upstairs the neighbor raps his cane on the floor,the faucet turns on after the water flushes,I wash my hands too.