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Time isn’t what it once was
No longer a never-ending resource Now I feel the aches & pains Groggy; consuming the steaming life-force
Wiping the startled sleep from my eyes
The attempts at a structured morning Lost a step; hard to think these days Age comes with little to no warning
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I still see you when I sleep
Heroine of my iridescent dreams
Basking in the rays of moonlight
Proving love exists between the seams
Marching forward into my mind
Catching lightning in a crystal ball
I am consumed by your beauty
Together we tumble, one for all Like this: Like Loading...
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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...
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Oh, where does our journey end
Or begin, as it so often might seem Futile attempts to erase the past The unknown details of our dreams
The open road panders to a false escape
The mere opportunity to rewrite a sojourn Jesus perambulating with Uncle Walt Debating the path; perchance to learn
Shaky prospects in apportioned time
Manifest destiny teases Ginsburg & Kerouac Further roads leading to ornate wisdom & we keep it concealed out in the back
Thoreau mocking society with his solitude
Knowing alone is the greatest we could ever be Thoughts come to us in gentle waves That perhaps our visions should become the sea
A reinterpretation of westward expansion
Route 66 cross-contaminating Highway 61 All roads have never led us home Emily tempting Death with her life left undone
The growing wisdom of our consumed space
Emerson’s penning pre-revolutionary blues Introducing our souls to unrefined grace The Good Lord providing Her unfiltered muse
Feeble humanity; lost across the tracks
Original sin that we’ve taken on the chin Sifting thought; we might be welcomed again But knock off the Devil’s dust before you come in Like this: Like Loading...
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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 Like this: Like Loading...
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But he never learned how to read a book
Or even the right words to steadily consume
Never expect anyone to be your savior For intelligence, you gotta make the room Like this: Like Loading...
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Hiding discarded notes in a shoebox
A back-catalog of creativity to mend Offering our souls to be consumed & an apology if we might offend Like this: Like Loading...
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Reading dog eared love letters
Smelling of her French perfume Longing to be with her again Clinging to memories, I consume The candlelight quietly fading The only sound is my pen’s scratch Scribbling missives & shanties Acknowledged beauty, she’s quite the catch Like this: Like Loading...