Saturday, March 11, 2017

Digital Earth

The supreme struggle for relevance
Thrives in digital earth
The obsession with false knowledge
Breeds the best of all the worst
The kingdom of the bully, the corral of the accursed
If pettiness is a diety, social media is its church
Congregation full of misrepresentation
From the safety of a keyboard, people quick to forget their station
Whatever pain or wicked thing
Whatever lust or gripe
Is hastily commented on with a few clicks and some type
With words as ammunition you make their trigger finger itch and so
At night, they troll your time line trying to figure out your clique
Trying to post that thousandth selfie to convince you of their worth
But because you are well watered, you don't suffer from their thirst
The supreme struggle for relevance
Thrives in digital realms
The obsession with false knowledge
Might cause one to be overwhelmed
The truth is, what is relevant will remain to be what is true
What is of importance is treating others as you want them to treat you

Sunday, January 8, 2017

I heart Guitar

I sit here in a blissful state in the middle of a John Mayer concert on TV, after finishing an Ed Sheeran one (naturally) and I realized...I love the sound of guitar based music.  I am hopelessly drawn to it.  The tone of sound makes me feel absolutely beyond, on a different plane of thinking altogether.  I look at some of my favorite guitarists, Jimi Hendrix, Prince, Lenny Kravitz, Gary Clark Jr., Muddy Waters, Ernie Isley and many others, and in my mind, they're like renegades; pirates sailing the sonic seas, defying the rules of convention and creating melodies from the raw energy inside, energy that resounds past location, time, or nation, universal type stuff, you know?  Well, I too have a guitar.  It's would think for as long as I've had it I'd be a master in the line of India.Arie or Ms. Lauryn Hill.  It leans patiently against my record crate, waiting for me to release my own universal energy, but thus far I have lacked the needed dedication to achieve my pirate goals.  Perhaps subconsciously I fear leaving my soul in its hollow, as I know many guitarists do, allowing the chords to reveal my personal vulnerabilities for all the world to see.  I suppose that's something I admire as well about guitarists, it seems they fear not, and allow us to glimpse, peer and bask in the everything they are, flaws and all.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016


Sometimes melancholy drapes over you like a heavy cloak, smothering you yet warming you all at once.  Smothering the joy but warming the creative process, in an effort to alleviate the weight.


I wish you had a chance to meet me
Before I was broken
Had a chance to see the city
Before the hurricane
You come to seek refuge
In a land that is rebuilding
In truth
All I can offer you is pain

Saturday, November 12, 2016


I feel safe sharing my dreams with you
Because I know
During the uninspired times
You will remind me of
The intangible
The magnificent we spoke of
And you will journey there with me
And stay.
Sometimes I am unsure if you are aware
of your impact upon my life
But then you look at me
As if I'm every color
In every sunset you've ever seen
And I know with certainty
I will be okay.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016


He is one of the ancients
He speaks in a tongue
From before the water was
And before the wind breezed
And from before the fire warmed and grew hot
And from before the land was earth
And from before the stars formed constellations in the clear midnight skies
I am rearranged in micrometers instantly
By the simple invitation of a smile...
He reaches between the silence where the atoms are spaced
And draws out the unsaid things
How dare he define my self decided complexity
In 9 words
On a Tuesday over coffee as it rains
He is one of the ancients
He speaks to me in this language
Because he knows I will understand
Because sometimes I remember
Unexplainably so
The times from when
Before the water was

Monday, April 11, 2016

Mr. Anderson

I feel you lying to me Smith    
Like radio emissions that turn into earthquakes
That only I can perceive
Even with eyes closed I can see
The ones and zeros of a corrupted code
You wonder why the bullets keep hitting you
Why you leap and you fall
Why you keep missing the call
You wonder why the bullets keep hitting you
Though by appearance it would seem you were the one
Naw son
I close my eyes and and clearly see you are a liar
And Zion belongs to no such men.