Love gone write

Maybe happiness

Is just a moment

Brief

Before the next big thing

The next desire

The next goal

Maybe we are built

To corrupt ourselves

Nature’s folly

But I want to run

I want to stay

This town

Has rust

It’s high in the gut

I’ll show you this place

I don’t want to write a poem

That sounds like a poem

But I can tell you

I’m at peace

I feel safe

When I’m with you

(Written aug 21 2019 at 33)

If I could ever Love you (bleeding ink)

I could never

Let you go

If I could ever love you

I could never

If I could ever…

And

I think we could make the change

And

I think we

Could live forever

And

If I could ever leave you with anything

Make your art

When you’re faced with the news

Keep your grit

When

You’ve got nothing to lose

Leave your mark

Because

This art

Strong enough

To carry the broken

This art

Even the losers are winners

This art

Carries us all

This art

Is your own voice

And the future is yours

As you create it

Make your mark

Make your art

And if I could ever love you

I think that I would love you

And I could never leave you

(Written for spoken word, at vintage 1889 Aug 22,2019)

Beagle in the City #254

Francis Cash: My name is Francis, I have the bloodline of royalty.

Francis: unfortunately, I was not living the life of royalty. I was in a shelter. But then I met this nice man.

Francis: I could see opportunity.

Ethan: This is Francis, we decided to adopt him. Simon, helped, I figured we could watch Star Trek and the X- Files together and he wouldn’t be scared.

Francis: He seemed nice enough. I decided I would let him live with me. We could work something out. I would have to put up with the doggo, but I could tell this was a writer.

Francis: Ahh yes, I could sense the stories.

Simon: Heyyyyv Francis!

Francis: Sniff my paw,it’s soft.

Simon: No, no, nope, I may have fell for that the first time and the second time…but I’m not going to fall for it again.

Simon: what do you even do with a cat?? I have so many questions. . .

Beagle in the City #252

I came home so weary

Couldn’t write

Couldn’t play

Don’t you know

I had the blues

I looked at my dog

I said

Beagle

Don’t you know

None of us has perfect days

He looked at me

And this is what he said

I had two perfect days

Walked around the block

We shared a hot dog

You checked the mail

And I checked the trash

We watched the tv

Any day with you dad

Is a perfect day to me

Yeah best friends till the end

I said

What about day two?

I’ve got the blues

He said

We got up

Cooked breakfast

We ate some bacon

Walked around the block

You checked the mail

I checked the trash

Any day with you dad

Is a perfect day to me

I said

That’s right

Best friends till the end

Storms

She makes storms

Out of hours

She makes deserts

Cry out for rain

She makes winter

Pray for summer

But she’s been a friend to me

Her fist have always been Clinched

Her hair has always been red

Her lips have always been red

She’s the realest thing

I’ve ever known

And I’d stand

Out every winter

Just hoping for a look from her

She keeps me happy

And she went down to New Orleans

And bewitched the devil

And she fights

The ghost

She loves the most

But you might not see it

And her fist

Have always been Clinched

And

She’s always been red

But she’s always been real

To me

(Written and performed tonight at 33)

Bitter Fruit

Shined his shoes

Everyday

While the virus

In his brain

He said it eats away

All the faces

He once knew

But the one …

She stays true

Burned in flames

And he

Sold his soul

Waiting for

the changing of the guard

To take him away

2

And he stands

Outside the house

On widow street

Praying for rain

To stop the flames

That took his love away

3

And he whispers

Pain

Cuts deep

Plants a seed

Grows a tree

Bearing the bitter fruit

They put before you

And

You must choose

To keep

Or throw

Away

Sunday Morning

1

I had a hellhound on my trail

I didn’t see any light ahead

And I think

We all have different angels and we all have different demons inside of us

And I believe we have different soulmates …

2

Lady,

Lady,

I want you to know

You’ve been a saving grace,

Whatever we are

Our blood boils at the same temperature

And whatever we become

I think my eyes will always find you across the room

And I will remember

The hellhound on my trail –

And I hope you know –

You saved my soul

And all that I’ve become –

And sometimes

I believe

Every Sunday

You’re the warmest thing

In this room