creating, debating, run a mile, pen to the paper

for the times when i'd rather be a poet than a songwriter:


music in my ear
running down around
heartbeat, pulse, feet slap ground
i'm grounded
breath sounds
it's a fine line we made up as we were walking
on the earth
lines produce melodies
soft-spoken and free
"don't forget me"
we're on a one way street
blockaded defeat. backward memories
take the road back to me
we've got to believe
there are possibilities
on this one way street.
keep moving, up comes the sun.
tomorrow. life changes. and change clicks and clanks
in pockets begging to buy back the first drink
the good times in freedom
you are my. my rewind
there are no lines. and we walk on.






exist and tell.