Month: September 2022
Riding The Winds Of The Hurricane
Riding the winds of the hurricane
Knowing we’re going to lose power
Stacking the ends of loose leaf paper
Don’t know the time/ don’t know the hour
Pouring a drink, settling in this night
Toast the storm, this one’s going to be a fighter
But when all is said & done
Imagination is how I fuel my typewriter
Tryin’ To Reason With Hurricane Season
Hard Rain
Pushing Away The Storms
Pushing away the storms
Embracing hope of the day
Devouring of beloved forms
To keep our fears at bay
Morning has a profound notion
To remain huddled in bed
Perpetual passionate motions
Sustained until we’re both dead
Image by Daniel Nebreda from Pixabay
Gimme A Minute Till I Look Pretty
Gimme a minute till I look pretty
I don’t want to go out there without my cologne
I can’t deal with the sketchy people
You know, they’ve hidden away all the pay phones
I don’t trust the Gov’t hiding behind rain coats
The shadows are weary with their demodulation
Open your windows to the rain – expect justice
I shall bare my raw breast in hopes of emotional rehabilitation
It’s A Sparse Paradise These Days
It’s a sparse paradise these days
Feeling another season coming on
Not supposed to feel like this
At least that’s the way we’ve been drawn
She’s still the poor pretty rich girl
Never could get off the same page
Repeat struggles to survive
Tripping on my lines; a vapid stage
Reality is an emotion detached from my soul
You never needed everyone to love you
Instilled confidence to merely exist
Forethought is a luxury that might just be true
Transcripts of the past’s failures
We’ve learned, but not out of society’s grip
False starts & then some
Rising, but we’re still not quite hip
Taking Time To Exist In Faded Dreams
Taking time to exist in faded dreams
The errant thoughts of a noble mind
Our hands smoothing the stray lines
The margins left blank & us unrefined
Ripped pages scribbled with defaulted hope
We try to emerge from the harrowing sea
But what more can we write about love
The caution of trying to speak of what might be
Broken Wine Glasses Sitting On The Ledge
Broken wine glasses sitting on the ledge
With a gentle, rolling view from the terrace
We embarrassed ourselves last night
Intent on copulating with the war bride heiress
Remaining Free & Open To Exist
Remaining free & open to exist
It surely shouldn’t be this much of a hassle
A teetering balance of confused souls
We lost it all once the Puritans stormed the castle
I Can Still Make Mature Women Blush
I can still make mature women blush
Knowing the proper placement of words
Using my tongue to enunciate firmly
The rhythm of recitement, she slowly purred
The fertile experience of rapturous joy
Pause a moment, so she won’t catch her death
Letting her pulse settle to reasonable levels
Returning to the living, joy in each & every breath
The bold blonde with big, bouncy curls
Much-maligned missionary souls
Falling in love was always my fatal flaw
Especially once I’ve relinquished control
A Pitch Black Morning
A pitch black morning
Lightning out in the stratosphere
Sharpening thy tongue
Sunrise the only thing we fear
Deflecting unwanted attention
Desiring space, but not too much
Pulling love from the cosmos
Daybreak; yet further out of touch
Two Plus Two Does Not Equal Five
Two plus two does not equal five
You’re subversive by remaining alive
By thinking independently, you’re disputin’
A rouge in the night like the fellow Rasputin
You don’t have to pick a side with these villains
Coming after the people with their fists clenched
Instead choose love, honesty & compassion
That will always be enough for a soul to be quenched
A Crooked Tiara
A crooked tiara
Perched over tear stains
Smudged makeup drying
Only the pain now remains
But the sunshine emerges
Hope rises after the ashes
Don’t give up on me, for I’m
Here to kiss wet eyelashes
Writing Out My Emotions
Writing out my emotions
On the back of an old paper bag
Evidence of youth squandered
Calligraphy of a dime store rag
Those were the days
Where we were the kings
Silly girls loved us
Wishing they could kiss the ring
Taking Me Back
Taking me back
California nights long ago
Palm lined beaches
The prettiest I know
Youthful charm & bravado
Flirting down by the sea
I’m taken back these days
By the sounds of Social D
The Morning Scramble
The morning scramble
Make sure you perfectly primp
But until the first cup of joe
My mind continued to limp
It’s Not Too Much
It’s not too much to ask for
Cold chilling to our bones
When we’re together forevermore
Wrap yourself tightly, I implore
Through love, we must atone
It’s not too much to ask for
Briskness recalls days of yore
Nostalgia to which we’re prone
When we’re together forevermore
Battered ships upon the same shore
Knowing we’re never alone
It’s not too much to ask for
Feeling the true price of this war
Pages of guilt written in stone
When we’re together forevermore
Tossed in the bottom drawer
Realities remaining unknown
It’s not too much to ask for
When we’re together forevermore
Coffee’s The Right Temperature
Coffee’s the right temperature
A casual moment in my nook
Perusing over my copious notes
That one day need to be a book
Not for my sake or the world’s
But these characters yearn to be free
They’re tapping upon my mind
My course to sanity & their right to be
Sometimes I’m An Awkward Lover
Sometimes I’m an awkward lover
I try to slap your ass & pull your hair
But I don’t always have confidence
But I’m doing my very best down there
But I can promise you one thing, dear
I will love you and only you forevermore
I may be a gentleman at public events
But I’ll be your pirate behind locked doors
Emerging From The Cool Waters
Emerging from the cool waters
Morning swim to ease my mind
My soul’s been hacked
I needed an escape to unwind
Society is advancing
But merely on the people’s rights
Media’s a crooked lapdog
We’re doomed if we refuse to unite
It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn
It was a one-eyed kind of morn
With evening’s festivities going awry
I scrawled out all I could remember
Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy
Slight images of a lovely form
Olfactory sparks upon my brain
Sketching the party’s guest list
But no new faces could remain
Racking my skull for a proper memory
Writing down every & each detail
Compiling a list to rediscover
I’m trying to think, but it’s to no avail
A faceless gown with affectionate gloves
Somehow my mind is able to recall
Cognitive fragments begin to linger
Clouded out by last night’s alcohol
Scenes slowly begin to return
I believe we’re out on the dance floor
An embrace of smoldering desire
Yet I couldn’t figure out any more
Scraps of notes spread before me
No identity to place upon the truth
Scant reason to be shy in my search
Basking in honesty of my lapsed youth
Cobwebs have been sparsely lifted
Won’t think of her in the past tense
Her ghostly touch encourages me yet
We shall meet again, I firmly sense
To hold her with determined spirit
Seems fantastical at this sad rate
Yet she’s left fingerprints upon me
Remaining until I succumb to my fate
Higher Expectations
Higher expectations
From your great admirers
Nothing so common
Reflecting upon the enquirer
Knowing a grand entrance
Stepping politely in this place
Our mutual acquaintance
Dropping your secret rimmed in lace
We Kept Dancing
We kept dancing
Long after the record stopped spinning
On the verge of your dreams
The fire’s low; the air is thinning
What happens tomorrow
& long after we’ve awoken
Will these dreams ever return
Will this spell be forever broken
Evading Their Ongoing Tragedies
Evading their ongoing tragedies
Forty summers spent down in the dirt
Withstanding the weight of apocalypse
Emerging; though slightly less overt
Blast furnace of the afternoon sun
Dali walking barefoot on Tampa’s shores
Pale riders within unabsorbed light
Embracing purity through perception’s doors
The paint of our secret love notes
But can only be read through the keyhole
Shying away from all public renditions
Her passionate words left imprinted on my soul
The Carcasses Of Inspiration
The carcasses of inspiration
Wine glasses with Burgundy residue
Speaking to late nights & early mornings
Scribbles in the margin on the follow through
Feeling parched as I wake
Noticing your lipstick stains
Upon the rim of the glass
Reminding me of the dreams that remain
Bleary eyed, drinking the coffee grounds
Searching for a fate within the dregs
Fumbling over these typewriter keys
Lightheaded when I see your naked legs
Your smile is a distraction
But you pop a button & then one more
I’m at your complete mercy
Once the nightgown hits the floor
Image by TastyCinnamonn from Pixabay
I’ve Stripped Myself Bare
I’ve stripped myself bare
No longer an ego to drown
My words speak for themselves: aware
I sift for existence in coffee grounds
Judge not – yet you cry foul & unfair
A mirror does not create your frown
I Need To Escape The City Structure
I need to escape the city structure
Retreat to a cabin up in the woods
Resolving quiet bouts of sensory overload
No longer at peace in these neighborhoods
Trying to exist without the constant ruckus
I may be no more than a sheep in wolf’s clothing
But I know I need something a bit tamer
To quell these times of depreciation & self-loathing
Times get weird; we must remain in our morals
Eventually we must draw a line in the sand
& to misquote the philosopher Chris Rock
I’m not saying the Unabomber was right, but I understand
Aroused By The Typewriter’s Bell
Aroused by the typewriter’s bell
I’m salivating like Pavlov’s dog
Imagining caffeinated mornings
Walking the Sunset within the fog
Though those were forgotten emotions
I’m not able to repeat that form
So I do my best to feel the original
Sometimes I’m hard to notice before the storm
Unclasping The Dreams & Insinuations
Unclasping the dreams & insinuations
Lucid thoughts beyond the outer pale
Transpiring within fragile realms
A bared soul on the brunt of our fairytale
Image by Gavin Seim from Pixabay
You Cannot Pick Your Thoughts
You cannot pick your thoughts
The conscious can’t be steered
Without love, hope and magic
The future will be as dark as you feared
You Didn’t Sell Out, You Bought In
You didn’t sell out, you bought in
At least that’s what you regurgitate
But you, yourself, are a cog in the machine
Grinding out this state sponsored hate
You speak of crying in the streets
Heartbroken your flavor of evil didn’t win
But it’s a system of corruption throughout
With each career politician speaking the sin
Where did all our heroes & leaders go
Driven out as the bureaucracy multiplies
Buried the truth in all that paperwork
We’re doomed unless the people rise
Against these manufactured lies
I’m Working On A Deliberate Sound
I’m working on a deliberate sound
Tracking a feeling I’ve never found
Filtering & distilling a final abstract
Like passion was some sort of artifact
They’re still searching for their good luck
Let us dance holes in our old school Chucks
No need to worry about their errant thoughts
Let me strip naked – for I’m kinda hot
With the beat down to your toes
Secrets of my soul, I’ll cautiously expose
Captain Q 