Suburban Arcades & Record Stores

Suburban arcades & record storesLove notes left jammed in the teletypeAncient technologies lost to whims of timeSacrilege of consuming before it’s ripe Littered by dreams of public-school poetsFalling to the feminine side of healingWhose obedience to authority lingersBut only the lonely are rhymin’ & stealin’ Our literary antihero catching the cliff notesA repressed childhood is

An Innocent Looking Soul

An innocent looking soulDraped with an ethereal gownConfident strides across the patioWith Eve’s revengeCrisp air – like the first bite of a green appleObscured; knowing her nectar to be my cure I watch her bosom swellIt’s not objectivizationFor I worship herRefreshed in wavesThis transparent Victorian hypocrisyKnowing all that ails& an unseen wound Yet morning crestsPale

I Don’t Use Umbrellas, Dear

I don’t use umbrellas, dearI’d rather dance in the rainLet it cascade gently overCleansing us of lingering painLet me take you in my armsInto your dreams – my words will pushLooking deep into my eyesAs I squeeze your tush

I Like Candles With The Best Of Them

I like candles with the best of themSoothing music is always a good startDim the lights for a softer moodThat perfume always quickens my heartTake me in your arms tonightWhisper every detail of your plansLet me watch you move & swayNotice how much I love being your man

Returning To The World

  Returning to the world Finding life left unraveled A smile never so grand Home the best place traveled Warmth of simple comforts Never trading precious delights Beauty in these open arms Darkness eclipsed by light