My work it shall begin

We are safe because we want to feel safe

And afraid because we allow ourselves to fear

All throughout the life I’ve know I’ve accepted what was

Hardly ever asking myself the real question, that is

What exactly do you want to be

Do you want to be loved? Feared? Saved?

Am I making myself clear?

Like standing by the railing of a ferry boat adrift

Looking out into the fog of early mornings spent

Nervous though I was, a child full of dread

Patiently awaiting the comfort darkness fed

Full of all my longings, too scared to make a sound

Reeling for the guidance, waiting to be found

But it wasn’t until I spoke the words

Which have placed me here today

And I wouldn’t place the blame where there is nothing left to blame

I could have got out long before that house we knew burnt down

I could have run away, what’s more

I could have made a sound

Though fear and faith are binding

For a child guilt is hard

And safety commonly looks like

A smile from afar

But now I’m counting crows, who’ve eaten all the crumbs

And as for beanstalks stalking, I’ve cut down every one

To grandma’s house goes Red, she no longer has to run

The piglets in their cabin, I hear they’re having fun

Released into the willows are fairytales Grimm

Now safe my inner child’s sound

My work it shall begin

The man in me knows something gold can stay

It’s an early morning wake up(wake up)

Adjust your hair put on your makeup(makeup)

It’s just a temporary state but(state but)

Either way you’ve got to make up(make up)

For all the time that you pissed away

For every second mistake you made

For every little indiscretion

For all the time you failed to mention

I love you so much my stomach burns

I love you so much that I’m lost for words

I love you so much see my eyes are pure

So stick around and we can make this work

You formed this feeling in Long Island(I land)

On my back and watch the world spin(world spin)

Back and forth in all direction(directions)

They only form a brief connection(except when)

The one’s you love turn from gold to grey

Tell Johnny Frost said nothing gold can stay

I do my best to find another way

The way I work is slow but baby hey

I love you so much I get dizzy spells

I love you so much you’re my wishing well

I love you so much now I’m overwhelmed

I love you so much you’re my homeward bound

Your eyes are healing now I’m lost for words

So stick around let’s watch the season’s turn

I’m slow with change but baby I’ve got faith

This fire burns you are my great escape

The man you met knows there’s a better way

The man in me knows something gold can stay

a bad artist

At the end of the day

when my feet are sore

when my mind is heavy

and I can’t take anymore.

Playing with matches I paint.

I paint such beautiful pictures

in my heart that burns

which no one can see

because I’m no painter

I’m just a bad artist

fingering napalm.

A Common Conundrum

There
is a
brief
window
as a kid
where
they
don’t know
about

overtime
morning commute
time and a half
cut hours

nor should they,

because
they’re kids,
kids who need to let the adults speak
you tell them all the time

so
when
the kid’s
all grown up
and wants nothing to do with you
don’t forget
all
those
times
the kid
just wanted to play.

As they wonder.

We
don’t
genuinely
love
the stranger
on the corner,
on the television,
at work,
on the daily news.

We
get
used
to them
like they
get used to us,
to being liked,
to being lied to,
to being accepted.

We
wonder
why they
have it so good,
why we can’t quite get it straight,
why the stranger
on the corner, can’t get his act together,
why the camera’s won’t turn off,
we wander as they wonder.

As they wander, we wonder.

Kings will be Kings no matter the King.

It’s ironic, really.

The way I wanted to do it,
wasn’t the way to do it,
until it was the way to do it.

And by that time,
I was already checked out.
My psyche in jump cuts like Breathless.

Plugging away in the same…old…fashion,
as those before me.
My movements were those of a machine.

Until it was the way to do it.
That which once wasn’t the way to do it.
The way that I’d wanted to do it in the first place.

If you’re confused.
That’s good.
Because I was too.

When it occurred to me one day.
The irony.
How kings will be kings no matter the king.

Lucky for me,
I knew this.
I also knew this.

You can dress the kid in the rags of a jester, but don’t expect his tricks to be any good!