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undefined Feb 13
Stand in the morning Sun
Shake off the Cold
Change out of Thermals
Memorize restroom Code
Stretch stiff Muscles
Charge up Phone
Tune up Guitar
Take coffee"To-Go"
Walk down Royal
Find a Spot
...Play.
No use in Wishing
Don't ever waste a beautiful Day.
little daily reminders for me here.
undefined Feb 13
A girl I dated once called me an "emotionless robot." Yesterday I woke up screaming, last night I fell asleep while crying... Guess she was wrong.

Fingers freezing.
Paint on a smile for passer-bys.
Keep my feet moving down the street
to PJ's for coffee,
for my daily "Good Morning."

Someone told me a song I played was "sad,"
I told them it was the happiest one I had.

The little market store on St. Louis is letting me stock the cooler again this afternoon.
So, I'll be able to buy another drink tonight.

The mornings are stiff,
and the late night shivers with cold.
1987 is the code to find the restroom.
Coffee warms my disposition.

Words stay trapped in my pen,
I start writing sometimes,
and don't know how to end.

... (i'm sorry)
Journal entry today.
undefined Feb 8
One more song to play
"One **** over the line"
One more sunny day
Just one more passer-by

One more scribbled page
Sing it out in time
One more sunny day
One more line to rhyme

One more drop of change
To change my thirsty mind
One more sunny day
Let me know I'm still alive

Children run and play
God how I've missed mine
On this sunny day, I pray
That I'll forgive with time .
The rain is finally gone, and I get to spend the day busking in NOLA :)
undefined Nov 2021
A flame touched stick of lavender
Jasmine and something else...

I light it often and think of you,
of eyes that seared a place on my heart,
the curve of your smile,
smell of your hair...

memories striking heavy in my chest,
shorten my breath,
and return feelings for a moment,
as scared and helpless as I felt
every time we've met
Just some words and feelings I thought I'd put somewhere right now, might come back to later and try to make something real out of them :-)
undefined May 2021
He was a big gunslinger, real bell-ringer,
never backed down from a fight.
A game changer, friend of danger,  
living life one night at a time.

He'd go out and hit the bars every night,
shooting pool and drinking *****
He had jet-black hair, a devilish smile,
and fists full of bad tattoos.


On a southern trail she rode the rails
with a big ol' dog, and a big ol' knife.
She sang so sweet, busking on the street,
but do her wrong and it might cost your life.


He bought her a drink and said, "What do ya think,
could we make this last all night?"
She said "Yes," but had to confess,
"I'll be gone before morning's light."

He said "Come with me,"
they agreed, and out the door both of 'em went.
Now stories are told, but nobody really knows,
'cause aint either been seen since.

{CH}

Sometimes you don't know about the end of the road,
some things just can't be seen.
And sometimes when you go, and reach the end of the road,
it might just be the beginning...



... Sometimes I like to think that they just dropped off the grid,
maybe he gave up the drink, and now they're raising 'em a couple of kids.
... And she's happy singin' songs to the trees,
on a porch out somewhere where no one else can see.

{ch}

'Cause sometimes you don't know about the end of your road,
some things just can't be seen.
And sometimes when you go and reach the end of your road,
it might just be a new beginning.
undefined May 2021
walking through the dark
on the outskirts of Baton Rouge
just me and a bunch of stars
no one else to talk to

the yard is staging cars
expecting a train
gather my gear
trying to   beat   out   the rain...


wind is a howling
roosters start to crow
6-string on my back
bound for a Houston show

I like the early morning
quiet, dark, and cold
watching for that engine
and   tryin ta breath    real    low...


the "CLASP! of thunderous coupling
"SkReeeech," its time ta go
wind is a rushing
this steel     carries       me       on...
undefined May 2021
"Home," I used to think,
was the road...
But now I know,
it's all the places in between.

Not the cracks and crevices in concrete.
Not the spaces swimming beneath my feet.
Not sidewalks, Rocky trails, or city streets...

"Home," is where I lay my head,
and REST my feet.
With friends I've known for years,
and new ones I meet.
Where I'm welcomed with smiles,
and something to drink...

My "home," is not the road (I love),
but little stops made,
at places in between.
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