Naked Recitals On A Rainy Day

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Naked recitals on a rainy day
Pursuing words off the tip of her tongue
The bookmark’s subtle movement
But that bell won’t be un-rung

I have a weakness for smart women
There’s a deliciousness to their thoughts
Flaunting her drop-dead genius
Leaving me bothered & hot

Innocently lewd ending with a flourish
She comes to me, reaching to kiss my earlobe
Retreats with a curtsy à la nude
She’s done; winks & pulls closed her robe

Ringing The Doorbell At The Campus Bookstore

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Ringing the doorbell at the campus bookstore
A vintage, pull chain contraption
Antiquated, yet still rather expensive
A lot of fine print within the caption

Education is a self-fulfilling myth
When the public library is free
Pay your tuition into the system
It all depends from what lens you wish to see

Running My Fingers Upon The Smooth Surface

Running my fingers upon the smooth surface
Keeping them always against the grain
I know my way through the Redwoods
They’re my protection against the dark stains

Born in the high desert among the cacti
Faint echoes from mission bells of yore
Great things come from fools with faith
Misguided souls remain thirsty for more

Stubborn & obstinate as hardwood
Needing my love to keep from being truculent
Even though our touch doesn’t always soften conditions
Nevertheless, she is still my favorite succulent

Liberation Granted By The Morning Alarm

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Liberation granted by the morning alarm
Still alive; this body aching with rippling fatigue
October visions, yet I’m safe from obvious harm
Visions dwindling; remnants of horrific intrigue

Seeking out coffee to loosen this slumber
A stretch & chance to deliberately mourn
These dreams encrusted in burnt umber
Sworn to abide by the wisdom of Nat Hawthorn

The terror that befalls us when we’re unaware
Soon free from the slow tolling of the funeral bell
Needful sleep caught us within a nightmare
Unconsciously breaking from a manufactured hell

Visions of dropping acid with William Blake
Dawn is our escape; returning to peace as we wake