its not that besting you really has anything to do you

no matter how many times we meet I will always want to win

it isn't to prove your inferiority but more my superiority in regards to everything

it is a drive that I can not deny, a way of life, a need, an uncontrollable urge to rise

I play and play and play not just for the love of the game but for the love of being the best

Good Morning

Rolling over I jump out of bed searching for the tune that was all night in my head

the beat was slow but the song was fast the words were muffled and from the past

scrambling with buttons and dials like a wild man in search of treasure

recalling beats, bridges, and versus measure by measure

I am frantic now and losing control like a beast is in my head tickling my soul

holding my thoughts hostage with with a fiddle made of gold

dangling a carrot from the end of a pole

on the tip of my tongue but just out of reach

thug life but poppa don't preach from here to the infirmary

shadow stabbing forgive and forget rock n roll all night benny and the jets

pretty girls make graves before you were punk idioteque

no no no none of it fits its all round when I am searching for square

I stare at the floor the ceiling my hands there's still nothing there

I am losing it now way to far gone but wait ...that melody that song

it catches me, cradling me like a newborn and brushing against my check

and just before the tempo begins to peek I remember the song and start tapping my feet

feeling the rhythm feeling the beat throwing on sneakers and hitting the street

moving my life day by day only asking that I hit play

to my immediate left and without a doubt

lies a magical thing, an always changing game

an infinite amount of variables mixed with a certainty only afforded to the few brave souls courageous enough to venture into its lair

you see the decision is the hard part

its a decision drenched in the past but yearning to dry into the future

an old wound in need of a suture a letter versus a computer each with its promise but only one leads me to her.

tonight she awoke as i climbed into bed

i was taken aback by the thing that she said

"are you ok?" not "turn out the light!"

loving words through disturbance in the night

even though she was completely at peace

when roused from that place buried in sleep

the chart topping hit was inspired by me

a tune unfamiliar but so sweet a melody

I reached for the laptop to share it with the

so please feel free to hum along

and if you feel so inspired go ahead sing along

do do do her feet cold as ice

follow it up with the beach boys wouldn't it be nice.

sipping my tea and staring out of the shop window I can easily see the sun shine and go dim

people walk by and a few stopping in

I have lots of time to think here and I enjoy it immensely as the hours pass by

time to think is the building block upon which the journey of healing begins

When I was a child my brother and I would walk in the woods for hours upon hours just enjoying the smells and sounds of all the living things never really understanding the magnitude of it all. I have not walked in the forest in over 10 years, if only I had known I might have sat a while and committed a little more to memory.

because you care

its not a question of preference or of personal comfort

people can not always agree and meet in the middle

it is not that a prize hangs in the balance or that a future is determined by such an act

it can not always be what we want it to be but it sometimes should

we do things for each other

we care for each other

we make decisions and internal compromises just because we care

she played magic and i rubbed her hair

she fell asleep and I thanked the heavens she was there

perception is reality

When I was eight years old my brother and I were fighting in our room. I had Danny pinned down on the bed and was punching him in the chest (I was a mean bastard but never did I wish to truly hurt my brother) when my father burst into the room. Dad was no doubt annoyed by the volume not the possible outcome of such horseplay. My father grabbed me by the legs and pulled me quite forcefully off of Danny, hoisting me into a reverse superman to land face first on the bedpost. The next day my dear brother told an epic tail of triumph over an elder foe in which he vanquished his brother with one mighty blow. All day I found myself at a lose to rebuke his testimony....you see I, by this time, had one heck of a shiner thanks to that vicious bedpost to the eye.

She gets tired after....

Putting in work.

The humpty dance is your chance so do the hump

new york sucks at night and the lights of buildings are not sunlight

at night the streets are dark and full of chemicals

oh but for the day...thats what i live for

in the day you can hold hands and show her that favorite building

in the day i can play soccer and get so tired i fall asleep in the park

but not the night

i cant sleep at night

the draw of black velvet sprinkled with white specks of paint

the night is a dangerous place ...a void of consciousness and etiquette

dark too dark

i think i will play in the sun

i will brush the dark dust that coats my skin and in the light begin again

moments later.....

the greatest salad I have ever made.

a little perfectly cooked chicken for the salad.

Yay farmers market!

Hard at work having fun!