Still trying to find my place in this world
Awkward introductions wherever I go
Still a stranger even when I’m by myself
I can’t pull up when I’m feeling low
Who do I want to be when I grow up
This answer still eludes
Evolution has not led me to enlightenment
Does time served have any context for glory accrued
Without solutions, pushing on yet again
Seeking anything to quench this thirst
Yet, before I try to tackle ageless struggles
Perhaps I should put my pants on first
Brat Autumns come after beach days
Heat waves arrive well after the invite
Unwrapping our sweaters to be ready
Quiet traumas we continue to refuse to fight
Distracting ourselves with Pumpkin Spice Lattes
& the house full of cinnamon scents
Falling back into our undiscovered dreams
Giving voice to all the seasons that came & went
So we light another wick in remembrance
For the youthful prayers never coming to the fore
Unsettled by soft thoughts & kind deeds
Grateful for this life as cooler winds reach the shore
I went for a walk in the predawn hours
I could feel something wasn’t quite right
’Twas a red sky morning/sailor take warning
Amiss; something’s gone bump in the night
There was a time I went walking in the woods
Fatigued; this existence has become too tense
It was there I encountered the damned zombies
They stole my peace along with my sensibility & sense
Now, I don’t do much walking outside of the wire
If I must, I seek protection from my Heavenly Lord
I never fail to bring along a prayer upon my lips
& in my hand the weight & might of the Wu-Tang sword
*found this graffiti in Wilhelmshaven, Germany in 2017
The world carries on while I’m stuck
Out here creating multiverses & theories
The complicated path to inner delight
Taking advantage before the day gets dreary
Iced coffees even after the mercury drops
Basic bitches, but not so predictable to measure
Trauma bonded on a Tuesday morning
Incapable of feeling authentic pleasure
Medicinal cocktails strained through yesterday’s filter
Looking for healing is like hunting snipe
Pathological discourses & a cup of Dolly’s ambition
Since when did you become the submissive type
My brain’s gone dry – oblivious to variables
Shaking out untrue thoughts, but nothing comes loose
False connections, but that’s not the intent
We meant to be real, but we can’t break the truce
So we add crushed Adderall, Viagra & Xanax sprinkles
Jump starting the traps you can no longer shut
The unquenchable thirst of mere sanity
In the end, confidence determines the strut
Coded dalliances in the chaos
Heavy traffic slowing down my return
iOS updates loading on my screen
Our eroded trust giving us heartburn
Community gossip & other headlines
I just need to get out & on the road
GPS keeps rerouting my path
But I still can’t payback all that was owed
Illicit whispers, chortles & other judgments
I can hear what you don’t mean to say
Inconsistent secrets slowly corrode love
We must live this life without any further delays
Skirting copyright law & decorum
What strange bedfellows we crave
The stark difference of dreams
Futile overdrive to become brave
Ego leads to stifled distortion
Drinking down to the coffee grounds
Heavy feedback off the teflon
Subtle flow becomes increasingly bound
Watching sine waves to catch ourselves
In the complexities of eclectic augmentation
Letting our love expand outward
In the force of its own reverberation
Community stories littering cyberspace
Blonde moms & the promise of rapt attention
Glittering eyes in our newfound wonderland
The dizzying menace of faulty comprehension
Which puzzle lingers beyond our mind
The gathering of hope before the abyss
Uncharted tomes excusing such behavior
Remaining somber after the funeral kiss
Though the sun still wakes the next morn
Reminding us of life in spite of false paternity
No guarantee we’ll get this one right
Even as love consents to absolute eternity
Rooting through stiff, dog-eared poetry books
Attempting to absorb, not so much memorize
I want to know the words as they float by
I’m closing my eyes, another mental disguise
Where are the secrets hidden in the pages
Unofficial degrees & pedigrees / nuance of thought
Tomes stacked upon every available surface
I’m mesmerized; but know intelligence is hot
Chasing the mailman down the road
I must get my thoughts out of town
Reload; poetess vixen’s got to know
She’s hot – turning my lust into a frown
I’m fixin’ to let the world in on my secret
But they’ve got ahold of my opportunity
Chances burn & I’m deepthroating her magic
Her words wreck my soul with impunity
Frivolous notes written with earnest intent
Slowly formed that she might know me better
Now in full sprint so I can drop these hints
Thoroughly enamored, but she never got my letter
Walking down stolen streets
A mere unheralded man
Always feeling a step behind
Unsure of my role in His cosmic plan
Listening to Bratmobile on suburban radio
Transmitting beyond the old, oak trees
Hidden from ivory towers rented by the hour
Everything they don’t want you to see
Down the block with contrived reactions
Varied cosmic junk confused with punk rock
Arbitrary stop signs & domestic crimes
You’ll find me waiting at a crosswalk
A boy & his ego
Small minded & feeling inferior
But taking his dick in his hand
Exposing his brashness on the exterior
A man & his fear
Henchmen telling him he’s been crossed
So he sends others off to war
& another generation thus lost
A people & their hate
Purposely misguided from God’s word
All we need is love
Self-regulated militias march into the absurd
OMG! I’m getting old
I’m actively searching
For the edited version
Methodically perching
Watching their content
Preserving young minds
Cultivating the innocence
For you can never rewind
The secret gathering of words
A quiet morning routine
The most dangerous are the most thoughtful
Steering us away from the machine
Jotting out undisciplined thought
Conglomerations in a vast array
Where the hell did I put my coffee?
What a way to start the day
Rubbing their fingers over the stereo knob
The frequencies distorted on the airwaves
Kings of the new world & thus apocalyptic
Searching for something more pragmatic to crave
These technocrats with no concept of reality
Tasking – without offering an alternate fate
Demanding citizens for homages to be digital
With no power to control – or else we attenuate
Words of peace have the chance to amplify
Even when we’re feeling out of time/out of sync
Don’t need their fiber optic lies to survive
A blind man loses all when forced to blink
Tapping into a passion without any circuits
Our transistors are live; we’re lovers thus discrete
There’s no stopping us when their signal’s weak
There’s nothing but fire & sparks when our wires meet
This life is forever altered now we’re here
Do not attempt to adjust the squelch
You’re listening to Radio Free America
Standing proud & robust like Raquel Welch
I didn’t mean to get too personal
I merely noticed your exposed slip
My thoughts took me to uncharted waters
Thinking of us – alone- a subtle skinny dip
An abandoned wedding gown crumpled
The satin too white against your lace
I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel
Though I could see the muted joy in your face
You kicked off your heels & removed your gloves
Walking too close you whispered ‘yes’ to my surprise
I loosened my tie before you took charge
I’ll never forget how you looked with your laughing eyes
Needing a path to feel a little less
Once tried to be a stoic practitioner
Couldn’t get a grip on these emotions
Stuck being an unconventional petitioner
So I offered my body in sacrifice
Self-medicating made me kinda fat
Trying to pray my love away
But insurance doesn’t pay for that
So, I have a pocket full of pills
& a hope to get my mind straight
Meditating on how to be more apathetic
& leaving my destiny to the Fates
Drinking from chipped china
A teetered walk, almost a slow wamble
A shy smirk; memories from opening night
Caste members & the entire ensemble
The lights have been extinguished
Dark; quoting lines from beyond the page
An echoed whisper of what we once heard
Now absurdly tiptoeing back onstage
Junky little notes
Throwaway lines on the postmodern stage
Cultural fragmentation in empty streets
Truth whittled away on an evaporating page
The disillusionment of an appropriated life
While the world’s on fire; downright ablaze
The American Dream sold off to the lowest bidder
Feeling dissociative in these recent raucous days
Our dishonest & unaccountable government
Are trying to sell you their uninspired vision
Trying to sway your vote by gripping your throat
But their cockamamy pleas will be met with only derision
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com
Unsettled first thing in the morning
How to thrive when life doesn’t provide hope
Quiet moments don’t mean easy moments
Free falling from the scripted tropes
Blinking to adjust your diminishing vision
Blood pressure rising with the kettle’s scream
Needing caffeine’s chemical reaction
To remove myself from this waking dream
Deep fatigue pressing down on me
Can’t quite get the explanation off my lips
Unfocused & disorganized thoughts
Trying to wade directly into the first sip
Skipping & trying to dodge this oppressive heat
Dreaming I’m far away on the distant shore
A hundred years ago with sand burning my feet
I wish to be scantily clad, sipping a daiquiri & nothing more
Believing in the subtle power of aggregation
Absorbing the world around ourselves bit by bit
Combining positive elements out of modern strife
Breaking into a smile; for that’s where the sunshine sits
Mixing dreams with the desirous contents of our souls
Letting go of expectations might let our thoughts be free
Toasting knowledge in an inspired & enlivened form
Perhaps in time, we’ll learn who we’re meant to be
Prolapsed epiphanies when we’ve gone straight
Blaming our mothers when castigation is on others
Returning to Eden & those Lost Children so feral
Most of us would remain cultivated if given the chance
Palpitations & related systemic hate
Candied apples lacerated with the Poison Pen
Sealed with Judas’ kiss & ceremonial wax
Slipped a pill to get me to relax, but never again
Send me to the pasture; to remain wild
I wish to exist in my uncultured, natural state
I’m no use to the system. nor powers that be
Unplug & unlearn if you ever wish to relate
Unpublishable dirges & ardent drivel
Line the dirty pages of my notepads
Thirty odd years of erratic confessions
Safe to say, this isn’t a passing fad
Not some clichéd, bedeviled artist
Just a clumsy, undereducated hack
Attuned with genuine life experience
& the scars of authenticity on my back
Ignorance & audacity to persist
Without the fawning of the literary elite
No desire for their acknowledgement
My woman’s love makes existence complete
High-waisted lycra so taut
I can’t help but stare
Making out the embroidery beneath
Of my eyes, she’s very aware
‘Stop being such a creep’
Coffee spilt; a blush she plainly sees
A laugh & a kiss on my creek
Don’t know why she still puts up with me
Overcast Navy sailing away
Pull up your trousers (black silk)
Your stay here has been cut short
Prominent sundresses & of that ilk
Humid weather slowing me down
Manicured hands releasing winds to blow
Settle into your newly structured mind
We never asked you to row so slow
Not listening to rumors on the deckplates
There’s a truth down there you can’t feel
Displacement registered in the silence
Absolutism shook along the keel
I still know you in spite of your success
For I knew you when you were poor
Beauty does not replace kindness
It merely opens up another door
Your futile attempt to transform
A goddess into a mere mistress
Stripping her of all her power
Assuaging your deceitful distress
Misguided pleasures of your sin
Not connected to her sainted stature
Fallible notions of mediocrity
Directly reflecting your soul’s fracture
Needing revenge for your inadequacy
Thoughts forever lost under her petticoat
In the end, you’re sadly outmatched
Subconscious control resonating in her throat
Doing my best to survive each day
I know that sounds melodramatic
Modernity is a soul-crushing endeavor
Where success & happiness aren’t automatic
The charts are filled out into margins
Unpronounceable pills prescribed to the gills
I used to be adequately sociable
But now I’m weirdly a buzzkill
Psyhosomatic stamped on the back pages
High-functioning, so you don’t really believe
There’s no evidence, no smoking gun
I’ve used all my words; so no tricks up my sleeve
Only the testimony of fellow travelers
Too many of us with declining hope
A fractured society of the self-righteous
We march on, praying for a better way to cope
Dudley-Do-Right making eyes at Natasha
County Mountie on the lookout for the bandit
Mr. Right bringing the Crown and lube
She’s suspicious; not how she planned it
Canada — the land ice was born
Rocky, Bullwinkle & Boris in shocked disbelief
Natasha Fatale now a naturalized citizen
Lying on a bearskin rug in only a strategic Maple Leaf
Good thing Canadians have Universal Healthcare
Someone get him a Molson, not a shitty Bud
She can’t have a drink for 9 months
Clearly, Dudley isn’t shooting duds
She’s someone I don’t even know
But I’m discovering I have a crush
Cautious as to refrain from eye contact
Discomfort in knowing her beauty could make me blush
But she doesn’t know I exist
Trying to uncover the reasons as to why
No interest in any eternal ramifications
Let me be, I’m just introverted, not really shy
This mortal container riddled with flaws
Contrary to natural law, I don’t care about them
I’m more concerned & focused
On this enchanting lady & that rising hem
Their nickel pulps penned within textbook’s seams
Reading while we drink coffee in tight white tees
Adolescent delusions out there on Atlantic beaches
Down where the boardwalks are supposed to be
Vapid notes & mass produced sentiments
Basic thought — quickest way to fill the page
Get another chapbook out on the sales floor
Catch the Capitalist excitement; it’s all the rage
Ultimate Truth sought through all these journals
An economy of words can’t permeate the scaffolding
Fame & glory were never why I had to write
Society’s unfructuous penchants have always been baffling
Language balanced upon our nebulous mental health
Solutions found deep within Oxford English Dictionary
Delicate passions rise & intellectual confusion fades
Singular beauty alone naturally leads to missionary
Let’s normalize matrons flashing
I fancy the unexpected & a little brash
She gets my eyes swirling & I’m lightheaded
Fully transfixed; my heart’s going to crash
I can’t help but stare at her dancer’s legs
My eyes keep placing them in second position
The way they move without effort
My pulse quickens; a love in transition
To the glee of an unsuspecting audience
The mesmerized & enchanted crowd
Now forever willing to do her bidding
She winked at me & couldn’t be more proud
Modern emotion with multiple stimulation points
Culmination of heritage & the soulful legacies
Numbing dreams of suburban legends & reduced sense
Homemade cocktails in vials & pill popping heresies
Jagged breaths & serpentine intimacies
Transformed beyond affinity in stoic realms
Terrestrially cute no longer carrying favor
Fickle bodies not equipped to so easily overwhelm
Re-sorting the priorities of philosophies
Mental calculations lead to abstract entries
Self-chronicled climax of interior design
Whisky breath standing over the knocked out sentry
I’ve lost an inch or two of height
Dark hair giving in to the grey
Never thought I was particularly handsome
These days, I can’t get out of my own way
Thoughts aren’t equating to this handwritten scrawl
Failure of evidence that my soul’s still alive
Inability to get beyond the struggle
Blank pages making me break out in hives
I allow myself to look vulnerability in the face
& still exist; rejection of perfection is reassuring
I might have a hitch in my giddy-up; yet I persist
It may not be pretty, but my spirit is all enduring
Eternal love to patriotic bombshells
My ammunition in a pinup fantasy
Flirtatious words & risqué photographs
Keeping me company when out to sea
Saucy words to keep the soul alive
A touch of reality when days get strange
A distraction from inevitable demons
The anchor when they’re down range
A wink & a nod; a sure fire technique
A steady hand for ribald notes
Such sass at undisclosed times
With exquisite compassion as she dotes
A thoughtful gift from home
Medicine before the mind explodes
Mercy for the downtrodden
Lord knows we hit the mother-load
Gracious dames aren’t all the same
Some can really pack some artillery
Grateful; I’m at her eternal behest
Please let her leave me in the pillory
Sailors loosened with certain rhymes
Accusations for the siren to allure us
A pirate is bound by sacred honors
Thus no one tells thy secrets of Honduras
Thankful to all the proper ladies
Watching over us boys at war
It can be lonely to remain out here
Yet motivated to return to your shore
Quiet rumpus of the of tea leaves
In the comfort of a former beauty queen
Sly notes pondered upon the page
Suddenly relapsed into a shroud of velveteen
Listening to Wollstonecraft on the radio
“Don’t turn that dial!”, that’s what the DJ said
Not tied to any system; I’m still analog
I’m dangerous; so the advertisers pled
Hereditary responsibility to the common good
Therefore I don’t believe what I’ve been taught
I see y’all got opinions, from your suburban thrones
& these school systems regurgitating corporate rot
Criminal malpractice leaves us with poor examples
But we’ve seen far worse on both sides of the aisle
Bribing the lowest common denominator for votes
Rewrite history, but perhaps that’s not in your files
I’ve been cast off, labeled a subversive heretic
But I’m easy – so I’m doing my best to unlearn
To unwind these falsehoods they tried to entrench
The slow burn; time to take candor for a turn
Rash choices based upon juvenile aesthetics
The understanding that we all might partake
Though one must know speaking the truth too loud
Turns into testimony & they might burn us all at the stake
Navigating the quiet pains
The darkness while everyone else sleeps
Back-cataloged memories
Feeling small with embarrassment
The horrors at 3 a.m.
I can’t help but be awake
Each misstep uniquely Dewey decimal’d
Precise reoccurring nightmares
Each of my public imperfections
We didn’t have the proper words back then
Only demerits for acting out
Tossing & turning throughout the night
The roster of flaws upon the shelves
Cold coffee & a stash of lost dreams
A distant memory of those rail yards
But we weren’t ourselves with honesty
Not the renegades or anything that hard
Images of what we might yet become
Grabbing self-regard before it fades
Destroying their notions of modernism
Returning to polka-dots & dark shades
We all have our morbid skeletons
The vague semblance of a broken soul
But somewhere are the clues to the truth
Somewhere when lightning meets a weary, old skull
Ripped T-shirts & the lure of the future
I can’t stop thinking of her like that
Abnormal psychological girl in the modern world
She walks on by, I fumble trying to tip my hat
Simple adoration eclipsing legitimate respect
Her runes worn smooth by the years of betrayal & weather
Legends of distinctive markings gone
Not wise to ride out the storm in imitation leather
Pop Art women hanging in the gallery
Glamour beyond the surface without any hint
Precocious attendees stroll the halls
Priceless pieces know they’re always in print
Songwriting on the front porch steps
When everyone else is out in town
Clearing a cluttered mind slowly
Watching the passive rain coming down
Raincoats do little to lighten the mood
So we stay away from the elements
Waiting for drier days to participate
Shore leave was no more than an accident
The winds foretell the secrets to come
& that there are no innocents after the war
Footprints left in the muddy ground
Muted whispers we were never waiting for
Sorry, but I can’t stay here any longer
It’s once again time to return to the sea
Home aboard that damned iron boat
Sold my soul, so now I’m no longer free
Seeing that red sky on the horizon
Knowing those clocks are about to tock
Silent shanties are just lyrical runes
A quiet prayer before we cross the dock
Yardarms swing with the coming storm
The moored ships rock on the rising waves
Only those tied loose will withstand the blow
Sailors don’t have tombstones to adorn a grave
Scars last when everything else fades away
A juvenile memory from the long, soft coast
Only those remaining with a raspy voice
Remind you they don’t make homes for ghosts
Even through all the mire
I still believe in sunshine & rainbows
God’s gift to all the people
The Promise from a long time ago
The negative headlines dampen my spirits
Their evil reflecting through leaded glass
But I shall not be tempted to hate
I’ve chosen to survive; I’ve chosen to pass
Insecurity masquerading as ego
Poor life choices left your linen with creases
Looking to Heaven for a glimpse
Something to focus our life’s leases
Humbly raising tarnished rosaries
Slowly worn down from fervent prayer
Distracted hearts wanting more
Paradise; that one day we might be there
She’s got that All-American smile
Tiny white tank & rose-colored glasses
Down to Earth – gotta love juicy peaches
Finding her irresistible- playful sasses
Midnight releases you from logical restraints
The deliberate unclasping of your retro garters
Trying to be the gentleman this tux suggests
But with your teasing, it just makes it harder
I’m the master of fantasies & avoiding reality
Private notebooks filled with lyrics so racy
Inspired yearning; attentive & erogenous stimulation
My good girl calling out, “Oh, Casey!”
Push-up lingerie & assorted dalliances
Alerted, but you didn’t take heed of the warning
Covering up, it’s cold- no need for exposure
Hangover cure; take two & call me in the morning
The winter is too warm
But it’s too cold for tanlines
The beach not quite deserted
But I think that’s just fine
I could use some freedom
But you’d just call that semantics
Splitting hairs when I’d rather
Be engaging you in some bedroom antics
You’d blush and slap my cheek
But that’s mere foreplay to me
I went kissing a little too low
That’s when you spilt your daiquiri
I’m supposed to be embarrassed by Floridian winters
Somehow downhearted by this temperate heat
The way we can wear summer clothes
While y’all are scraping ice off the streets
But like how I’m not wearing a down parka
I’m not sure how there can be this much sweat
I’m not wearing anything much at all
But be still, the cold season isn’t over yet
The winter nights have been rough
Leaving you with dreams of latitudes
Freeze warnings when already cold
Unfavorable forecast sounding rather rude
Its tough when the temps plummet
Feeling victim to strange cosmic collusions
But don’t fret, it’ll be 77℉ Thursday
& we’ll be suffering from nipple confusion
Persistent chants in the Winter breeze
Thoughts of her beauty & I start to wheeze
I wish to taste her freshly bathed skin
Through all the heartache, I’d do it all again
For she’s still the one to knock me to my knees
I can’t write with this cluttered mind
Too many tabs pulling at my attention
Structures of thought too often recede
Failing me when I most need comprehension
I’m tired of dreaming of the love I want
I’m tired of writing peace line by line
Where do we find a comforting solace
Lasting longer than the crystals of winter sunshine
With the chill of winter settling in
The horizon proves a coming storm
I convince her we need to strip naked
And cuddle to remain warm
Preparing for the long, cold season
Always keeping her flesh within reach
Needing her to bundle me up
Never mind we’re down on the beach
Listening to these Winter winds
I sure miss kissing your ruby lips
I’m cold these days; alone
Dreaming of holding your naked hips
That’s where my hands need to be
Memories of your perfect back arched
Seeing the outline of your love
Leaves my mouth permanently parched
Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to say hello and support me.
I know I’ve been MIA lately, but I’m still here!
I’m feeling messy these days
Allowing myself to know my emotional state
Without any guilt attached to my depression
Yet still filled with anxiety & hate
They told me to just get over it
I received a letter by standard post
They said it’s not service related
I think that’s what hurt the most
My wounds are not of the visible variety
I’m not a novelty for their entertainment
Never was beautiful enough to be broken
Self-doubt leading the way at the arraignment
I’m not going to divulge the diagnosis
My soul no longer an open book
They don’t believe me anyway
Exposing myself to bots & crooks
I’m not going to advertise my trauma
For the savage world to have a look
Banned poets arrested for subversive thought
Are we the worst kind of panhandlers in this late stage capitalism?
Peddling our wares / words
Yet I’m of that worst kind
I went to sea without a degree
Florida is still the end of the road
Drawing interest from unscrupulous sorts
We have to make it here
Summer Days are numbered
Before gin heiress takes a piece of me
Low-toned cocktails shaken
By the silver fox of Palm Valley
She mixes technicolor stimuli
Recycling references & touchstones
Her calico dress stretches
Rejuvenating sips leads to unintentional moans
A sunset brings filtered focus
Golden hour views from the terrace
I take my drink & humbly toast
This life is beautiful enough to embarrass
A study in inexact notions
Differences upon the prospective scene
Our unruly burdens confound us
Nothing to save us when life turns mean
Yet we can never let apathy rule the day
In these times, we must be all the more aware
Knowing truth can be unpopular
Yet compassion is the way to genuinely care
I’m not very good at being social
Never been comfortable in the light
Quietly shuffling back to the shadows
I’m not looking for a fight
Feeling inferior with all these charms
Subdued enchantment of the stage
Attention makes me feel unclean
Retreat from prying eyes; time to burn some sage
I don’t have panic attacks every time out
But I have the knowing dread I might feel one
So let me fade away from judgmental gaze
I’ve come to discover our society isn’t that fun
Bobbing my head to Taylor
Wondering why I wouldn’t look cute
With my lips painted shades of red
I’m nothing if not a social failure
All the exterior opinions rendered moot
For it’s the expectations of strangers I’ve shed
Transfiguring lips into Fabergé petals
Feeling decadent painting the night sky
Let us rejoice with our illustrious words
Palpitating deliberately when bliss is nigh
These fanciful & bountiful thoughts of yonder
Possibly plentiful but not quite enough for us
Imaginative; creating a softer substantial side
We’re most serene when we’re a bit mussed
Panic attacks at the Waffle House
Smacked by anxiety first thing Christmas morn
Too much going on / overstimulation
My mind is no place to be so adorned
Quietly doing my best amidst the strife
Where can I go to firmly escape
Duties & pressure of this daily existence
This life hides hope behind heavy drapes
Some days you just have to save yourself
We’re born into a burdensome fatigue
Toiling away, clawing at abstract survival
But we’re all a little bush league
I’m not always the most logical
Taking a walk to subvert the paradigm
But I like to think I’m reasonable
Soft rain & crisp air embracing recovery time
Wading through seawater in your dress
Clinging to your delicious curves
Exposing the universe to me
Standing at attention; all my nerves
You’re the anomaly of this world
Virtue & flexibility of our seams
Wrap your legs around my mind
Allow me the most sensuous dreams
Never to rejoin this delinquent society
Let me lead you with hands on your hips
To paradise removed from their hate
With nothing but flirtation on your lips
Gimme sass with a shake of that ass
Raising toasts to love in a crystal chalice
Our passion overflows conventional wisdom
Since I’m directed by the sapience of my phallus
I promise to hold you close all our days
& to occasionally provide your kind of cuddle
But I’ll always do that thing you like so well
The one that never fails to leave you in a puddle
I have a specific set of skills
That aren’t exactly useful by day
Haphazardly moving ideas around
Creating worlds; as if by molding clay
Each word significant by their own might
A genius for ignoring any rational facts
My mind can produce surprising beauty
If I can only let it be still & relax
You’re not likely to find any published works
At least not in the traditional sense
That’s not where I find my druthers
The lady called me droll, the Dr. called me dense
I’m going to stick to what I do best
Absent leather bound tomes in rooms of mahogany
I’m going to scribble my questionable rhymes
& humbly share them with only you & me
Slow cooking in the Floridian sunshine
Double blinking in a new school of thought
Sweat pooling in our sandy crevices
Don’t know how it’s going to get actually hot
We, the undocumented intellectuals
The ones without canon fodder ties
The ones that can thrive in this heat
We’ll survive- literary or otherwise
but you didn’t think beauty could create such art
that somehow I was too vapid to rearrange the world
words offensive before they left your mouth
do we blame your lips or your mind
light another match to brew the coffee
it’s a shame; what could be done with such a mouth
Patriotism isn’t an aesthetic
To be conglomerated into the war complex
Raytheon stickers for your Jeep
Wrapping your little soldier in the flag
when your wife lets you
have sex
Your definition of liberty
stinks of fragile nationalism
Unsure footing when your time ran out
Playing ‘don’t break the ice’ with life
The wilting ego of your skin
is feeble at best
Weak DNA to thin the herd
Anything less than natural selection
is fundamentally absurd
Empty wine bottles clink; devoid of all inspiration
But that’s not the way you remembered they bled
Choosing the perfect wording for posterity
A trembling shadow of what the poets once said
We once set out to create a fresh universe
But that’s not the way I can any longer think
Falling in love with strange, beautiful women
The source & reason for all the dedicated ink
Our souls entwined in deliberate communion
But that’s not the way that I came to be lost
Specific writings to engrave our cosmic lust
Forever entombed within this highland frost
The summer is already sweltering
I’m trying to survive, so I have nothing on
The neighbor lady won’t stop staring
Perhaps I shouldn’t be out here watering my lawn

Low lit morning, fueled by diet Dr Pepper
Reason doesn’t apply with a heartbreak mixtape
A chipped soul stuck in a eternal commute
Misfocused thoughts back by silhouette shapes
Bukowski‘s ghost drawn & quartered
Painted as Sisyphus on the rib cage
Our flaws smell like copulation
Avoiding definitions on the page
Our pens, unsure of their final form
Still don’t know what the epiphanies really mean
Scribbles of hopeful, prophetic confessions
Slumber still finds purchase; need more coffee
Those words come to me in those coffee dreams
A spontaneous marvel of literary delight
There’s a difference between manufactured beauty
& a real beauty, founded by nature’s authentic right
But I can’t explain the nuances within the definition
I’m not one to judge such subjective whims
Focusing on my own qualms & dangling thoughts
Let us sit, pour another cup, let’s solve these problems
I’m not bothered by such trifling issues as rules
Let them worry about my intents & being misconstrued
I let my chosen pages explain all I’m willing to
I’m more concerned if that pot has finished it’s brew
We must join together and stop the hatred that is spreading around the world.
Such a difference
In a button or two
How you tease me
The way you do
My weary spirits
Begin to rise
You make it hard
To look you in the eyes…
My whole life on scraps of paper
My soul jotted down on the page
Plot lines between scribbles
Character development as we age
Everything that I am, right here
Pushing to further keep my mind trained
My heart’s secret smudged
Within these lines my identity is contained
It’s blistering out there today
Don’t know what I’m going to do in this heat
Definitely time to start peeling off clothes
It’s not my style to be covert nor discrete
You smirk & don’t know what’s the matter
Hiding your eyes, yet peeking through fingers
But I wink, giving you my mischievous grin
My kind of love is one that really tends to linger
Standing less than fresh in my birthday suit
You’re still the one & I’m looking into your soul
I annoy the hell out of you & but you love it
Deep breaths after I finish licking the bowl
After posting almost every day since 2017, I just didn’t post on Wednesday. I did not think anything of it. It was just something I didn’t do.
Being a poet is such a large part of my personality. I often feel inherent pressure to create. I feel a similar pressure to post.
You know what? I’m tired. It’s a lot of work to raise these sweet, precious and sometimes feral young women. I still have a chunk of time doing Sailor stuff. I’m exhausted. I’m going to take a little break. I’ll still pop in and read some, but I’m going chill out.
Thank you to each and every one who has read my words. I’ll be back posting sometime. I just don’t know when.
My time has come to a close on another trip to Japan. Over the past 15 years I’ve been blessed to visit 3 times, including a year in 2007. I’ve experienced a lot that I never dreamed I would do. I don’t know if I will ever be back, but I’m glad I’ve had this trip to soak in a beautiful culture once again.
Japan is a mind blowing country. I have never seen anything like it.
“Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.”
William Blake
“Spread love everywhere you go: first of all in your own house. Give love to your children, to your wife or husband, to a next door neighbor… Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God’s kindness; kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile, kindness in your warm greeting.”
–Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta
“Brevity is the soul of lingerie.” – Dorothy Parker
“But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.” – William Butler Yeats
Image by Brin Weins from Pixabay
If the video doesn’t load, click the link It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) There’s a Closed Caption feature if you’d like to read the lyrics.
This world is a mess. Please take a moment to listen to Bob’s message from 58 years ago.
WRITTEN BY: BOB DYLAN
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn
That he not busy being born is busy dying
Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you’d just be one more
Person crying
So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing
As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don’t hate nothing at all
Except hatred
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Make everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
That not much is really sacred
While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have to stand naked
An’ though the rules of the road have been lodged
It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it
Advertising signs they con
You into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks they really found you
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit
To satisfy, insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something they invest in
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please him
Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn’t talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer’s pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death’s honesty
Won’t fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes must get lonely
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed
Graveyards, false gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
what else can you show me?
And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only
Copyright
© 1965 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music
“Half the lies they tell about me aren’t true.”
― Yogi Berra
Not as funny as it once was…yet still funny!
“Having a low opinion of yourself is not ‘modesty.’ It’s self-destruction. Holding your uniqueness in high regard is not ‘egotism.’ It’s a necessary precondition to happiness and success.”
― Bobbe Sommer
“Eating the peach is a meditation. Your mind empties of all the must dos and should have dones. You are pure being. Your lover’s tongue is the key that turns the lock that opens the pleasure box. Life has few perfect moments; moments of cunnilingus score the highest on the sex blissometer.”
― Chloe Thurlow, Katie in Love
Born and raised in Arizona. This speaks to me.
Be careful the energy you put out into the world.
But how can you be sure?
This is true love-you think this happens every day?
-The Princess Bride, William Goldman
Jerry Garcia
August 1st, 1942 – August 9th, 1995
Brokenhearted on a Monday afternoon
Mourning the loss of a piece of my heart
The giant, jerk dog was always there
This can’t be the end; merely the start
I never got a chance to truly say goodbye
For I never believed you’d be gone
That you’d bounce back, like you always did
But always isn’t now & I can’t move on
I didn’t think I’d feel this damn raw
I keep looking for you in the playroom
Seeing if you’re causing mischief
Or wandering into the girls’ call on Zoom
But I can’t find you anywhere
My giant dog has somehow disappeared
These eyes won’t stop leaking
& I know, it’s not going to be the same around here.
No poem today. I’m going to take the day to grieve for Kristoff. I’ll be back tomorrow.
“…mercy’s a business, I wish it for you
More than just ashes when your dreams come true…”
-Fire On The Mountain- Grateful Dead, words by Robert Hunter
“Home is the nicest word there is.” – Laura Ingalls Wilder
“The world’s big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.”
― John Muir
“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.”
Gautama Buddha
“It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world and moral courage so rare.” – Mark Twain
Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay
“One must be a sea, to receive a polluted stream without becoming impure.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra
“After all, perhaps dirt isn’t really so unhealthy as one is brought up to believe.”
― Agatha Christie, Murder in Mesopotamia
“There’s nothing like deep breaths after laughing that hard. Nothing in the world like a sore stomach for the right reasons.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
It’s not a crime to be pretty
Wearing rented dresses, searching for a breadwinner
Socialites & other plastic people
No redeeming qualities, but she wants to be thinner
Her vagina will accept almost anything
Whether it be dollars, pounds, marks or kroner
A consummate professional at all times
She expects to be well paid for every geriatric boner
You don’t look gift whores in the mouth
Searching for a sugar daddy, anyone will do
Sitting in the bullpen, hoping to get promoted
Waiting to pluck her next victim, how many already gone through
That swath leaving nothing to the imagination
Offended when the whispers mention a gold digger
Everyone can spy those silicone scars
Next time she’ll go a couple of cups bigger
Sucking more than the marrow out of life
She’s trading her youth for money & security
But once tarnished, innocence forever besmirched
Time is constantly magnifying all your impurities
There are certain priorities in this life
A father must keep his daughters off the pole
But something much less discussed nowadays
What do you do once she grew without a soul
This scene is littered with heinous & fickle creatures
Cloaked, it slowly begins to scandalize & appall
Men with large billfolds & absolutely no shame
It’s the current failure of society & they call it Skyfall
*sorry, feeling quite caustic today
“Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, Be not afraid of my body.” -Walt Whitman
“I am a lover of truth, a worshipper of freedom, a celebrant at the alter of language and purity and tolerance.” – Stephen Fry
“It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness.”
― Leo Tolstoy, The Kreutzer Sonata
“There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.”
― Edgar Allan Poe
“I may not be a cactus expert but I know a prick when I see one.”
– Dorothy Parker
Image by icondigital from Pixabay
A few scenes from my walk around Anchorage today. It’s a beautiful town. I wish I had more time to dig a little deeper.
“Women are always true, even in the midst of their greatest falsities, because they are always influenced by some natural feeling.”
― Honoré de Balzac, Père Goriot
“He didn’t mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn’t matter.”
― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit
“Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.”
― William Shakespeare, All’s Well That Ends Well
“How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.”
― Henry David Thoreau
“The proof of love is in the works. Where love exists, it works great things. But when it ceases to act, it ceases to exist.”
–Pope St. Gregory the Great
“When you choose your friends, don’t be short-changed by choosing personality over character.”
― W. Somerset Maugham
This is amazing.
“They thought I was a Surrealist, but I wasn’t. I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.” – Frida Kahlo
Image by Jinali Parikh from Pixabay
“Integrity is not a conditional word. It doesn’t blow in the wind or change with the weather. It is your inner image of yourself, and if you look in there and see a man who won’t cheat, then you know he never will. Integrity is not a search for the rewards of integrity. Maybe all you ever get for it is the largest kick in the ass the world can provide. It is not supposed to be a productive asset.”
― John D. MacDonald
“If you’re in the middle of the ocean, with no flippers and no life preserver and you hear a helicopter, this is music. You have to adjust to your needs at the moment.” – Tom Waits
“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”
Ernest Hemingway, Men Without Women
“In a utilitarian age, of all other times, it is a matter of grave importance that fairy tales should be respected.”
(Frauds on the Fairies, 1853)”
― Charles Dickens, Works of Charles Dickens
“I don’t trust anything that popular. It borders on the levels of Nazism or the Macarena.”
“I have never listened to anyone who criticized my taste in space travel, sideshows or gorillas. When this occurs, I pack up my dinosaurs and leave the room.”
― Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing
“Even his fucking was binary, a sorting process by which certain practices could be tried and found wanting or approved and accorded benchmark status.”
“Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you.”
― Walt Whitman
“We are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter.”
― Allen Ginsberg, Howl and Other Poems
“I often quote myself. It adds spice to my conversations.” – George Bernard Shaw
“All it takes is faith, trust, & a little pixie dust.”
– Peter Pan ✨
“I’ve always loved strong women, which is lucky for me because once you’re over about twenty-five there is no other kind. Women blow my mind. The stuff that routinely gets done to them would make most men curl up and die, but women turn to steel and keep on coming. Any man who claims he’s not into strong women is fooling himself mindless; he’s into strong women who know how to pout prettily and put on baby voices, and who will end up keeping his balls in her makeup bags.”
― Tana French, Faithful Place
“What though the field be lost?
All is not lost; th’unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield.
– Milton: Paradise Lost, 1667
“My honor is dearer to me than my life.”
– Cervantes: Don Quixote, 1604
“The depth and strength of a human character are defined by its moral reserves. People reveal themselves completely only when they are thrown out of the customary conditions of their life, for only then do they have to fall back on their reserves.”
– Leon Trotsky
“Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
“I am not eccentric. It’s just that I am more alive than most people. I am an unpopular electric eel set in a pond of catfish.”
― Edith Sitwell
“I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.”
― Albert Einstein
“I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good feeling.” – Frida Kahlo
“Remember to always be yourself. Unless you suck.”
― Joss Whedon
“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
― Anaïs Nin
“By being natural and sincere, one often can create revolutions without having sought them.”
― Christian Dior
“To try to become a saint.”
– John Coltrane (when asked what he was going to do next)
“As it is base for a soldier to love; so I am in love with a base wench.”
– William Shakespeare: Love’s Labor Lost, 1594
“I have no faith in human perfectibility. I think that human exertion will have no appreciable effect upon humanity. Man is now only more active – not more happy – nor more wise, than he was 6000 years ago.”
― Edgar Allan Poe
“You don’t love someone because they’re perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they’re not.”
― Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper
“Many people hear voices when no one is there. Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Others are called writers and they do pretty much the same thing.”
― Margaret Chittenden
“Every man’s life is a fairy tale written by God’s fingers.” – Hans Christian Andersen
Image by iris Vallejo from Pixabay
“With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.”
― William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice
“Whosoever is delighted in solitude, is either a wild beast or a god.”
― Aristotle
“If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content.”
― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
“…Anxiety makes more heroes than history would care to repeat.” – Nikita Gill
I was fortunate enough to see Bob Weir & the Wolf Brothers last night. It was an amazing show. I definitely recommend seeing them or Dead & Company this summer.
“But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.” – William Butler Yeats
Image by Brin Weins from Pixabay
I’ll just leave this here…
In honor of breast cancer awareness month…💝🎀
“Crying is for plain women. Pretty women go shopping.”
― Oscar Wilde
Here is another poem from BB with a Neverland theme.
I miss the magic
I let it slip away
I grew up
while you continued to play
I miss the magic
I just let it go
the age on my face
yes, it’s starting to show
I miss the magic
between us
you’ll be forever Peter Pan
while I’m still searching for Pixie Dust
If you know me, you know that this is my favorite subject! If you don’t follow BB, please do. You won’t be sorry!
And so I wait patiently
for I know he will return to me
I snuggle in and close my eyes
I keep my window open wide
Under my pillow I keep a kiss
for my own lost boy, whom I so miss
Hoping his shadow finds a way to my room
I find myself in dreamland soon
“Are those happy thoughts” he wants to know
I nod, so he says “then away we go”
Second star to the right, straight on ’til morning
come fly with me, my Darling
Fly with me to Neverland
where dreams are born, and time is never planned
“Music gives color to the air of the moment.”
Karl Lagerfeld
“Don’t vote, it just encourages the bastards.”
-P.J. O’Rouke
“All art is a kind of confession, more or less oblique. All artists, if they are to survive, are forced, at last, to tell the whole story; to vomit the anguish up.”
― James Baldwin
“Lottery: A tax on people who are bad at math.”
Ambrose Bierce
“The man who does not value himself, cannot value anything or anyone.”
Ayn Rand, The Virtue of Selfishness: A New Concept of Egoism
“A person has no need of sincerity, nor even of skill in lying, in order to be loved. Here I mean by love reciprocal torture.”
― Marcel Proust, The Captive & The Fugitive
“True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.”
― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
“Never underestimate how much assistance, how much satisfaction, how much comfort, how much soul and transcendence there might be in a well-made taco and a cold bottle of beer.”
Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume
“We are all travelers in the wilderness of this world, and the best we can find in our travels is an honest friend.”
― Robert Louis Stevenson
“I believe a strong woman may be stronger than a man, particularly if she happens to have love in her heart. I guess a loving woman is indestructible.”
John Steinbeck, East of Eden
“Constantly choosing the lesser of two evils is still choosing evil.”
― Jerry Garcia
“Show me a man who doesn’t go down on his wife and I’ll show you a man whose wife I can sleep with, tonight.”
– Leo Durocher
“The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected.”
― Robert Frost
“A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous.”
― Coco Chanel
“Crying is for plain women. Pretty women go shopping.”
― Oscar Wilde
“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.”
― Pablo Neruda
“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.”
― Margaret Atwood, Bluebeard’s Egg
“An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all.”
― Oscar Wilde
“The time has come, my little friends, to talk of other things
Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings
And why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings
Calloo, Callay, come run away / With the cabbages and kings”
– The Walrus
Courage and perseverance have a magical talisman, before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish into air.- John Quincy Adams
“The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.”
― Coco Chanel
“I think the reward for conformity is that everyone likes you except yourself.”
― Rita Mae Brown
“It always seems impossible until its done.” – Nelson Mandela
“My second home is a third world cantina.” – Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers
“I am not young enough to know everything.” – Oscar Wilde
Rachel! It’s not exact, but here you go.
“Remember, no man is a failure who has friends.”
– It’s A Wonderful Life
P.S. I’m super excited that I can figure out how to insert links. An old dog CAN learn new tricks! Ta-da! (spirit fingers)
“Some writers confuse authenticity, which they ought always to aim at, with originality, which they should never bother about.”
– W.H. Auden
“It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world and moral courage so rare.” – Mark Twain
“Whosoever desires constant success must change his conduct with the times.”
– Niccolo Machiavelli: Discorsi, 1531
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