I don’t speak of the dark times
For I don’t know how to describe
Numb from the constant rows
Beating my head against the tide
All the while, I’m trying to keep in step
Attempts to parry everything exterior
Concurrent remedies do nothing
Resulting in the residue of the inferior
Intentions to escape these trappings
Quietly absconding along the coast
Ambitions to enliven another day
& thus a creation of a ghost
Dissipating quietly on a warming shore
Seeing lightning strike off the coast
A subtle snapshot to something more
I think I’m free, but still haunted by her ghost
There’s a storm is coming this way
You can feel it heading from out to sea
We’re gonna get a bit of a blow today
Teeth to the wind; no place I’d rather be
Taking time to reside in detail
Coaxing ghosts off the Sunshine Coast
A temper & a crooked smile
The truth when we needed it most
Knowing differences of our secrets
Diligent with passing the changes
I’m fluid in these manipulations
But for her I am, keeping me strange
Reading cracked-spine paperbacks
Wandering by; gently grabbing her waist
Creating space & sending archaic signals
Standing proud, knowing silence accustomed to taste
Sun coming up over the coast
Leaving me momentarily blind
She’s a big ol’ flammin’ orange
The one with the spicy rind
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
The sun rose again today
As it often tries to do
The light leaves me feeling
Naked & exposed to you
Hiding within the coastal pines
Hoping that you won’t see
That in spite of all the words
I’m still only me
Suburban arcades & record stores
Love notes left jammed in the teletype
Ancient technologies lost to whims of time
Sacrilege of consuming before it’s ripe
Littered by dreams of public-school poets
Falling to the feminine side of healing
Whose obedience to authority lingers
But only the lonely are rhymin’ & stealin’
Our literary antihero catching the cliff notes
A repressed childhood is still better by half
Trying to make up for that deleted time
But you can’t get far by writing on decaf
Standing with arms braced to the wind
Needing antiquity to know how we perform
Rolling empty dice against our loaded fates
Summer on the coast ensures the storm
Casting aspersions in the salon
It was art deco motif & decor
She encouraged my company
But I knew she’d eventually want more
So I raise my glass for the glory of this night
I cannot be what I am not right here
Let us nurture & love the best we know
For none can predict if the coast stays clear
Celestial bodies writhe
She may not be an answer
But perhaps she’s the key
At the end of the Earth
You’ll find no more ground
Dust falling off the coast
Sail around for awhile
Nurture love & freedom
Return to find me here
Within her, I find truth
A value to be upheld
Know the stark secret
Crisp ocean force winds
Gentle fresh citrus scent
Lost upon the eternal sea
Forgot where beauty went
A treatise of delicate love
Evidence of a ghost
Smile your sweet smile
I’ve left for the coast
Sound of muted voices
She’s a little too cute
Allowing no more secrets
Down through my roots
Lost in a deteriorating moment
What more can we do to be free
Close our eyes to the darkness
Tiptoeing quietly, down to the sea
Searching franticly for the answer
But the obvious truth is often a ghost
False memories are unruly traipses
Inclinations leading me, down the coast
Is there a way to be clean again
To bathe in the ocean’s gentle roar
Hope against hope; possibly a way
To find sunshine that might restore
Captain Q 