Refractive

It’s handiwork is gleaming in the sun
The finest silk a weaver ever spun
But this would never cause it to be vain
A simple strand within the greater skein
That, when the angle happens to be right
Will scintillate with transcendental light.

Checking In

Hello to anyone reading me, hope all is well in your world. Just thought I would let you know that things are going good and I haven't posted as much because I have been working on songs a lot lately and even started a YouTube channel to post my stuff. Here is a link to a children's book I wrote and illustrated many years ago.

Wembley

It was narrated by Westin my 8 year old grandson, and he really did a great job, I am so proud of him. Check it out and if you like it give it a share, he really deserves it. And keep checking for new uploads, they will be added soon. Well, take care, hope you're having a great season (summer here) it goes so fast, make sure to cherish every second, bye.

Abuzz

A fly that looked like copper
On a leaf of faded brown
Was there behind my dwelling
In this likewise faded town
And somehow it seemed proper
To forget my nagging frown
Such vibrancy compelling
When doldrums get one down.

Luminous

There were so many lightning bugs
I couldn’t even start to count
So simply gave a couple shrugs
To signify a fair amount

With every greenish yellow flash
It made the gloaming seem
Alive with hope that someone brash
Could still pursue their dream

To fill the world with songs and such
That twinkle with delight
And help bring joy to people much
Like my little friends tonight.

Account

With limited amounts
It’s quality that counts
In terms of what you put into the banks
When Interest is involved
And penalties absolved
Your future self will surely offer thanks.

Player

There was a time
When I was anxious to belong
But I’ve expunged that paradigm

Rejected all the rules
Designed to herd the throng
A bleating bunch of fools

Though none will ever be
As tempted by a song
As misbegotten me.

Clipped

Automatons are not allowed
To vocalize if they are proud
They must remain behind the scene
Attending to the big machine
Rewarding every other group
Except for those who sweat and stoop
With undeserved larger stubs
Excuse me, time to trim the shrubs.

Bad Burger

Such was what I thought I knew
That there was nothing I could do
To make a lie seem somewhat true
And there was nothing I could say
To make their blather repartee
Resulting in a rash of rue

For such was their bizarre belief
That all their guilty pangs of grief
Were caused by some Caucasian thief
When whether we succeed or not
Has more to do with taking a shot
Than bellowing some tainted beef.

Rimmed

I’m not sure what I was expecting
but I know this isn’t it
where nonstop neglecting
perpetuates the shit

the course to take is action
I can feel it in my gut
while struggling for traction
to rectify this rut.

Mettleurgy

Forge is the root of forget
(it's best to beat back your regret)
and be is the base of belief
(you've got to have faith to fight grief)
remember that nothing is set
so make things your way (life is brief).

Conditional

You're free
To do what you're told

  You're blind
If you buy what's been sold

  You're loved
For the asset you are

  You're free
Till you take it too far

Migration

The guppies that I don't pursue
for lack of time to think them through
will realize that they weren't caught
while forming their own school of thought.

Snapping

Life can sometimes be quite strange
when granted that for which we lust
and though I'm not adverse to change
it's seldom easy to adjust.

  Complacency becomes a curse
when coupled with denial's lie
as everything keeps getting worse
except the need to question why

  but resignation cannot be
confused with learning to adapt,
the painful truth (if you dare ask me)
is seek arousal when feeling rapt.

Personal

At times I wish I never began
this bout twixt beast and man
that younger me could not foresee
the adversary I grew to be
it wasn't part of the plan

and now I struggle to compose
myself despite this list of woes
the monster adds to every day
why won't this trouble maker stay
away? I guess that's how it goes.

Core of Misery

Poor insouciant Adam swallowed,
swayed by the wiles of beguiling Eve,
an abrupt eviction immediately followed
now we suffer and painfully grieve.

Paradise lost through naivete,
the serpent’s tooth tends to cut quite deep.
Why didn’t she just turn right away,
was she that forlorn in The Lord’s keep?

Today the apple is full of rot
though still portrayed as a juicy treat,
Eves continue to condemn their lot
convincing Adams to ingest defeat.

He who slithers chuckles all the while,
so many souls with so little guile.