Writer • Musician
Yea I’m grateful to breathe at the least, and hey I've got my lady with me as she calls out rigatoni, time to eat it’s you and me, baby with our pup Sunny and a box of kleenex I’m grateful for you for our friends and our family and like I say thankful just to …
have the ashes settled over discord & broken glass to take a stand? as the storm approaches equalizing all to a barren land and surely, we know we must, and so shall we trust one another invest in eachother to save ourselves our home? this globe here we are, we stand alone I know but …
the city's alive you best believe you can look into its eyes you can feel it breathe city of night, so open and lonesome the quiet scream I'm still waking from the long strung-out dreams you see once again I’s tricked just like I said I's bamboozled in the moonlight, as she’d met some other …
My first recollection is the steam rising ominously from the surface, from the pools that weren't visible from where I initially stood just before I started toward them. I call them pools because at first glance, that's what they looked like. Beautiful to look upon. Clear and strikingly blue. They reminded me of the waters …
John 'Jack' Lucious Quinby is a journalist who specializes in current affairs and American music. Jude Moonlight is a musician and songwriter, a blues singer and guitar playin' vagabond. The following is a transcript of one in several conversations between the two friends, though the date of the recording is unknown. We are quite sure …
Lyrics by Ren Michael I want to send you my love I want to tell you I’m proud I want to hear your voice, son I want you with me now You over my shoulders Your young hand in mine As you stand next to me As I know you’re alive I can’t find the …
There is a feeling I get Watching this show Villagers in the wasteland Villagers out in the forests of our escaping Here we are When we learn to let go Of our obsessions Our desires, our possessions Our mental discussions And simply enjoy the quiet The waves on the beach The whisper of the wind …
People passerby in the afternoon sun twin palms at my side I don't worry none, no I'm sittin' on top of the world. drinking my piñon as the harmonica plays, the other day I didn't know my own name but I see now the reflection, as I read the buried poems of a 60-year old …
I don’t often post in the moment because I‘m either without reception or—most of the time—too caught up in the moment itself. This was a combination of the two, though by the looks of it, I am in the middle of taking a picture. Needless to say, I post a lot of pictures after the …
once I was wanting to accumulate (just) stacks of papers and notes as I busied myself with more writing and creating and letting the stacks of papers grow like towers & skyscrapers in a white city as I busied myself like Hephaestus deep in the fiery trenches grinding out work after work But now you …
I might have had a dream where I rode in from Europe I came in from the sea, strode upon the shores of my hometown Miami & up to Lauderdale too Here I was There she was Dancing in the dark 'neath purple and blue neon, cigar smoke over barroom tables dance floor, vacant except …
It's easy to lose yourself in the desert. When you abandon the basics, the building blocks of navigation laid down by generations before--like following the sun, where it rises and sets--then it becomes easy to lose your sense of direction too. When you've lost your sense of direction, along with sense of self, neither way …
Oh moon Home to seven trembling faces Nameless, blank expressions Your face, the friendliest I’ve known Oh moon Home to my heart and soul Your soft glow Carries me ‘cross the night Though I tremble by thy naked hand Oh moon Stranger to the angels and to blues sparrows flying like arrows in silhouette across …
funny now that I should think of you snapshots and postcards I’ve moved through (I’ve broken on through) the long dusk the new dawn the stillness consumes me though I can’t complain much at all In my hand, still is a rose I never let go this desert is dry but I’m back on the …
Inspiration has many faces, and sometimes it can leave you spellbound to the point that you see no reason to do anything else, because you feel the overwhelming feeling that everything’s been done already. It’s why I’m wary of museums. Of course it’s a matter of perspective, depending on the individual and the choices they …
Riding in the night the desert stretches eons of time towns faraway ‘nother time and place I’ve got to keep moving, can’t look back she’ll call my name but I’ve got nothing left to say as I ride that Italian melodic plane, from the Tuscan countryside to faraway Spain and she’ll call my name and …
A Lesson in Presence The sky was cast in a deep azure glow, illuminating the dark outline of the clouds at night, just above the aura of gold shining from the lights below. This was Plaza Mayor, in the heart of the old town, where people drank wine and champagne, smoked cigars, ate good food, …
Through the bedroom mirror the future's hidden in stone-cold expressions piercing smoke filled air and still, with every empty kiss, you leave me breathless Your shoulder bare, lit like a child’s moon Humming softly it's late in the afternoon Your hair, tousled & blonde, Still breathing, Searching a wandering dawn Let me have your gun, …
When we’re about to begin a project, sometimes it’s tempting to sweat the beginnings. That is, trying to manipulate conditions, waiting for the right kind of ‘weather’ before you take the first steps. This can be anything from those things out of your control, like the actual weather, or things that are in your control, …
Ren Michael 