Photo by Trac Vu on Pexels.com
Sun coming up over the coast
Leaving me momentarily blind She’s a big ol’ flammin’ orange The one with the spicy rind Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Matthis on Pexels.com
I’m the footnote to your memory
Everyone will remember how you touched their soul I’m just the quiet guy in the background Working hard to help make your vision whole
I’m not the one to be seen nor heard
But to fade away when they extinguish the lights Forgotten once the dream falls to recess Sealed once we find our departing flights
I never wished to distract from you
I humbly serve your silent grace No aim to conjure something more Merely to bask in beautiful refraction of your face
Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
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
Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by ArtHouse Studio on Pexels.com
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 Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Ryan Holloway on Pexels.com
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 Like this: Like Loading...
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 Like this: Like Loading...
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 Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Gabriela Palai on Pexels.com
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 Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Daniel Ju00f8shua on Pexels.com
Songwriting on the front porch steps
When everyone else is out in town Clearing a cluttered mind slowly Watching the passive rain coming down Like this: Like Loading...
They don’t have men
Down at the newspaper anymore Dusty ages disagree They’ve forever closed the door
They’re hiding the truth
In the time of an information superhighway Where they locked away Dignity They’re not telling, they won’t say
We’re on our own out here alone
You think we’re lost & have much to fear Stranded under this desert sky Be still thy soul, for I was born out here Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com
Hiding under the guise of tradition
A small man standing atop a pagan tower Embracing ancient laws full of flaws From which you exert all your immoral power
In a reversal & dissent from my juvenile thought
I dismiss such thought as stale as Babylon There’s no place in a progressive society For mindsets as negative as an electron
I’ve learned a lot in my time here on Earth
Now I know what gets her hotter than Wasabi It’s as simple as treating women as equals Instead of deepthroating the code of Hammurabi Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Emre Can Acer on Pexels.com
Surrounding myself with ancient friends
Wisdom & experiences laid upon my shelf Bare for all to quietly consume Providing a chance for a better version of self
Absorbing past lives without pause
Silhouettes of women from long ago Angst from existential rights in time Visions of dreams I wish to forgo
These books are mere placeholders
For the contents of my heart upon hardwood Gentle reminders of our former intellect & the hope we might return to being good Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Helena Lopes on Pexels.com
I’m trying to live the good life
Exposing my heart, no matter how raw
No need to hide how I’m feeling
Coaxing compassion, so the world might thaw
Standing upright in spite of society
A little shook, but I’m still alive
Move past their hatred & negativity
Within the scope of kindness we’ll thrive Like this: Like Loading...
“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
lin_chuan from Pixabay Like this: Like Loading...
Don’t look her in the eye
For it might tip your move Just a simple guy With nothing to prove She wants nothing from you & your humble ways Society envies her Stack that against the strays Don’t show her any interest & she’ll question her worth Twisting this back on you Like you’re the last man on earth Keep to yourself Don’t be any more than polite She’ll come calling With a need for you to quench her plight Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Thau00eds Silva on Pexels.com
It is not a sin, no matter what they say
For love triumph over all — beyond how we explain For truth is greater than words Thus loyalty & devotion shall forever remain
I’m not worried what the preacher says
For he doesn’t understand our match Too ancient to grasp our harmonization He has his own itch he can’t scratch
All that matters is how we feel inside
True love is not a notion they can reject Our bodies & souls eternally intertwined Upon a higher calling our passion connects Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Paweu0142 L. on Pexels.com
You don’t see me when you look my way
Like a ghost – I just don’t seem to appear Faded into the background of life Unable to compete with all you hold dear
My kind smile & open arms aren’t a reality
Merely static in your fashion-conscious day I’m over here trying to catch your eye Yet my shadow is not even in your way
What more can I do to attract you
The uncool of America
Not enough flash Eagerly & quietly industrious But we’re still short on cash
You’re out here ridin’ high on your horse
I’m down here with my heart broken You’re clearly oblivious to my existence I wonder if you’ll ever be woken Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Vera Arsic on Pexels.com
There’s magic in knowing the soul
you cannot live without Is more precious than anything in front of you The inability to cease from a scream or shout
The seas have parted
Allowing visions to reach us within earshot You can only see the beauty of a cherished soul Neither are we perfect, but we’re all we’ve got
Translucence when we slumber
Taken away to the shores of our dreams The impossible comfort of paradise Allowing for beliefs to be more than they seem Like this: Like Loading...
Why are we out here struggling
Working our asses off to make ends meet
Inflation keeps on rising
Can only afford to walk down the street
Searching for the righteous path
So I won’t hinder my sisters & brothers
Don’t want to dislodge Oliver’s bowl
Please Mr. President, may I have another?
But he’s in the back, fiddling slowly
Inhaling the fumes from foreign petroleum
While the value of the dollar mmm drops
Loose strings dangle, but he’s not controlling ‘em
Ready to tax any of the alms we might receive
Taking our currency without any thanks
Not looked upon as human beings
Merely a vote they use as their personal piggybanks Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Alyssa Swedick on Pexels.com
I want to dance with you
But I only have two left feet I want to grasp you tightly Hoping for our lips to meet
I wish to serenade you
But I cannot carry a tune My words falter & flutter With feeble hopes to croon
I’m not good enough
To fake or impress you much But I’ll love you forever With every word & every touch Like this: Like Loading...
Photo by Monstera on Pexels.com
The world can only hold so many poets
Woefully claiming Bukowski as their inspiration
Worshiping a habitual womanizer & drunk
Answering questions with little to no imagination
I’m doing my best to fill up the lines & empty spaces
With these ink splotches spreading upon the page
Distinct notions of what I believe to be right
But I’m only displaying the curmudgeon side of my age
Shove off from those heroes & clip art stick figures
We need fresh voices with an authentic feel
No more grave-robbing stale words & artifacts
We need to release the future & embrace what’s real Like this: Like Loading...
Crafting words & dilapidated feelings
Withdrawing the essence of existence Distilling the meaning of love’s texture To stir my soul to our mutual subsistence Like this: Like Loading...
St.Albans Cathedral – Tomb of Saint Alban by Martin Addison is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0
The passing of time is a mixed blessing
Tapping your foot with your vision blurred Doing our best, but remaining guilty Still searching for a way to be cured
Wrapping wrists around the tarnished rosary
Youthful dreams faded from when I wanted to be a saint My heart still ticks, albeit a little weaker Remembering those days, but the voices now faint Like this: Like Loading...
I never said I was good at this
I have no fancy training or school
I just close my eyes & spill my soul
Without any regard if it will be cool
I’m a bush league hack at my best
Wandering my way through eternity
Endless reams within your dreams
But I’ll never be a victim of your modernity Like this: Like Loading...
Perfection laid out on satin sheets
Beauty dripping away piece by piece
Every dream slipped right through
Life & loss masked by laughing creases
He said you were everything he desired
Burning deep in his soul, but you refused
Moving too fast to stop & notice him
Yet you cry foul, saying you were abused
The sun rises no matter who is pained
Recall broken hearts when you’re the cause
Plump out your pretty pink lips
In the quiet of night, please retract your claws
Calm thyself, you know your own heart
Time to realize you’re the fatal flaw Like this: Like Loading...
Plastering the interweb with fragmented thought
Cultivating an insane kind of fame
Convincing an illiterate society
That you’re more than just a silly name
Penning out frivolously piddly odes
Basking in the lack of their attention span
Trying so hard to be cool, plus
Your slams make me not want to give a damn
The barely legible equivalent of an Insta-model
Don’t you know, writers write & speakers squeak
A farce played out in bits & bytes
Preying on the vapid, the stupid & the weak
You’ve grown your hipster beard
You fancy yourself as suave & dapper
But I know your dirty little secret
That you’re no PaRappa the Rapper
Like this: Like Loading...
I’m not anywhere near perfect
Contrary to your fictitious notions
Examining me through a skewed lens
Though I’ve been cleansed by the ocean
I’m not what you think you want
Flawed in all the wrong places
Underlining fragility & a fractured soul
But you’re still focused on the pretty faces
I can’t explain all the improper deviations
I’m not what you’ve wished you might discover
You’ve transcribed me into a possibility
But I’m already tethered to my perpetual lover
Don’t sacrifice your dreams
For what probably won’t ever be
Hold tight to your illusions
For only then can life set you free Like this: Like Loading...
Working on this beach bod
Lived my whole life up in my head
Trying to become something lovable
Society left me mostly ignored instead
Attempts to create an unique existence
Purging the dreadful; want something more
An authentic soul bent on sincerity
Giving you my all, but you’d rather have Thor
I can’t be anything that I’m not
I’m lifting weight, going for a run
Never listen to what a fool transcends
Getting old is not any fun Like this: Like Loading...
The dispassionate sunshine emerges
Calling out my dulled & weary name
Feeling downtrodden so early in the morn
Slowly licked by the sun’s eternal flame
Stretching as I rise from my sheets
Needing reservoirs of coffee in times like this
Stark forms in prospective movement
Daylight meets love’s surefire kiss
Like this: Like Loading...
Sitting low on the hedge
Allowing the new sun to shine
Basking in the Springtime
Trading coffee for your Winter wine
As the sun rises higher up there
I know we can survive the rays
Discovering lost inspiration
Creative surge lasting through the day
Like this: Like Loading...