“Busted Open”
Reeling in the evening
waiting for the midnight sun
The pickeled door busted open releasing bricks weighing a ton
Half were warm, half were ice,
the unemployed spun fuzzy-dice
Marching forward while silently waiting
Rome was built while hesitating
A steeple stood where a pulpit fell,
freedom rang a torch-formed bell
God rejoiced as mature fruit ripened
Let freedom ring!
Crazy Horse dances in the midnight sun
Springsteen groans unquestionably “She’s the one”
the Rolling Stones sing something about missing you,
the dishes get washed with the midnight crew
Isaiah 40 promises wings and a lift,
God sent Jesus my favorite gift
Hammering dividers plotted on the drive,
Several question if Jesus is really alive
In the evening sun, I’ve seen doves fluttering in her eyes,
In you… He lives…in you He gives
Another packaged heart, a frayed thread he unties
A new chapter starts from East Jersey to Van Nuys
Packaged in victory
Look around it is everywhere you see
Stones of whale, stones of white,
I never really understood urban blight
Love for one love for all, whether your 3 feet or 6 feet tall
Standing like a tree in a frightened shadow
Broken love, when tainted in a frigid wheel-barrel
Icicles began to thaw,
the soldier stood in superb awe
Love delivered on gold and silver platters,
in the end victory is all that matters
Walking it out can be daunting and rough
See the sea from the unshaking bluff
Ships coming in, ships going out
You’re the ship I want to stay
Wings dropped memories in a rain-filled barrel
Lightening ignited a town of dandelions
A King held captive dashed between the splitting horizon
A radio repeated history begging for a change as a ring lost its luster
The dance-floor opened like it was midnight in Manhattan
A kiss duplicated yet another candle
The stars anticipated silent rhetoric
wondering when the skies would break out in dance
Orion and Pleiades repainted starlit dust into hot-blue clusters
The branch snapped pleasing the open-ground with temporary cover
Orion’s strength stood unguarded while the Pleiades brushed the electric sky
The riddle peppered the mind like a satellite stalled in space
A brass horn leaned pitched against the Eiffel Tower
Time guided them beyond the pure-white snow
The message delivered strength in a vivid imagination
The nest led to a different tree, could be cypress, could be myrtle, maybe even almond
The off-road sign sprinkled his heart with joy
The silent voice gifted him with peace
The cowboy knew the clean-oil would shoot above the clouds sprouting a good-fortune drizzled in gold
“Lonely Curtains”
An empty house parked on a Jersey garden maintained it was full
Full of glory, full of might
The curtains held back the lonely pain
The days burned hot and the years collided with fair-weather cool
Heaven shouted out as silent-tears withheld praise from complaining
Night-time busted open, while internal rockets flared the midnight sky
Warped freedom misunderstood the soul
The highway sprung open twisting a question of fate
“The False Prophet”
The clutter took up space replacing a radio on the shelf
The juggling gate strung a walrus laughing at himself
A fireplace whistled a melody coveting the sounds of Egypt
Smoking guitars filled the abandoned bars, puffing clouds of stale smoke
The glass hammer was about to break shattering yet another day
A sizzled shirt tried to convert the alert but the hammer wouldn’t stay
A cage radiated a stench of putrid grass and a wall kept his rhetoric at bay
The planks pulled stained cotton shirts to the floor pleading and bleeding of glass
The moon shone bright and lit the night and the walrus said it is time for class
“Don’t ya stop dont ya stop” the Cars eagerly sang back in ’78
A train rolled down the tracks
With all its weight in motion
Bringing dry goods to everyone west of the Atlantic ocean
Rocky balboa never gave up,
If six quit, there would be no 7-up
JC Penney, a man of humble beginnings,
Orel Hershiser pitched 10 score-free innings,
Success is ours when we are willing to pay,
A farmer works hard for every ounce of golden hay
My song is, “Don’t you quit don’t you quit, ”
When you’re ready you will be lifted out of the burned-out pit
In Psalm 40 he waited patiently for the Lord,
it is not easy to break a triple-braided cord
The Father, Son, the Holy Spirit
I don’t know maybe you’re not ready to hear it
Bends in a river, do not stop the flow,
In the end, Texas got the alamo
Bananas? Sometimes they split.
Hey, it happens.
My song is: “Don’t you quit, don’t you quit. Don’t you quit.”
Now let’s make it a hit.
Hearts emptied in the valley of a storm
Burned out lamps quieted the abandoned dorm
A steering wheel scurried beyond a dark duffle-bag
Innocent kids skipped and ambitiously played tag
The runway was clear and a dry beverage helped move boxes of hollow charcoal
The anger of love spun dishes out of control
Ceramic frogs weighed down the free-falling doll house
A night of silence stood tall
Dumpsters encouraged golf clubs subdued in a bright candy-apple red bag to join in
Perfection? Not today.
Hang in there.
The Lift
An eagle conducting a wind seminar trained his offspring to rebel against terror
The river broke through dirt inclined to shatter any error
The mountain broke into laughter
As rivers flowed down its spine
Viewing a bird of phoenix, cross it’s lonely state line
An abundant inheritance intrigued the future seeing what is straight ahead
The wind beneath his wings is where the Spirit led
Plans unwavering and unadultered
Intrepid wings, completely cultured
Trusting the flight will remain on high,
Looking back, he now knows why
Launched and unmiffed, the eagle flew high, with the
lift… as the precious gift
Just a guy on a Journey! 