Standing in line for a morning cup
After a pot or two, I’ll be content
But you’re holding up progress
Your specialty is causing me to resent
My anger is slow to rise
But the barista is soaking in your beauty
The rest of us are dying of fatigue & thirst
All the while methinks you’re a bit too snooty
OMG! I’m getting old
I’m actively searching
For the edited version
Methodically perching
Watching their content
Preserving young minds
Cultivating the innocence
For you can never rewind
Radiating a positive vibe henceforth
A smile & skip in the most mundane chores
Yet perceptions of domestic divinity
Always can accomplish just a little more
Backlogged Cinderella fantasies
Dancing amid a swirl with a feather duster
Cautiously watching; epically vulnerable
Wondering if my heart might trust her
It’s no fairytale ending, but a good life
A drink & a fire, quietly getting better
She’s content without our consent
Cracking a book, curling up into her sweater
Quiet, unassuming
Knee deep in your chores
Content in your blessings
But once dreamed of more
Passion fizzled with stress
Domestically kept & cared
Cloaked in suburban life
But I see beauty in there
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
I’ve traveled the world
& I keep returning to the same notion
I’ve seen interesting places
But I never again want to sail the ocean
My simple truth is that I’m content
I’ve found a good life; that should be clear
The grass is never greener anywhere else
We’re on an amazing course; we shouldn’t veer
There are so many opportunities
I would never close any of those doors
I don’t ever want to let go of your hand
Now that I have & forevermore come ashore
Finding an edge to life
Loose thread; ripping out the seams
Setting out for an independent life
No purpose if they’re not your dreams
Perplexing choices to those
Who forgot to shake in quaking fear
You hope to wither in the memory
Of these who are content to remain here
The drippings of my mind
The office, a soul in paper mâché
Books & notes of imagination
A collection of stories we played
It’s a subtle knowledge herein
Years of experience slightly compressed
Nicks, faults & scars smoothed over
Though I remain unimpressed
Scratching away at this drivel
Nothing created in which to be content
Scrambling for fresh ideas
At this pace, I’ll never relent
Waiting for lightning to strike
Within these summer storms
I’ve found a good woman
Her love keeps me nice & warm
No need to venture out there
For then we’d need to find clothes
I’m content right where I am
Watching everything from my bedroom windows
I love what’s feminine for its own beautiful sake
Walking out into Mother Nature & breathing in Earth
I’m collecting thoughts & addicted to smiling
A deliberate course to truly live ever since my birth
Feeling the distinct notion of life’s pulse
To emerge from here unbroken & mostly unscathed
To seek out joy & embrace hope where it lives
A stroll in pure sunshine; to be regeneratively bathed
No longer shall I listen to competing voices
I’m going to soak up compassion until I’m through
Outside of the distractions, I’ll grow softer
Finding contentment admits love’s eternal residue
I won’t judge you for your past
I don’t care how your body looks
Inward – we all contain equal souls
We can all absorb the beauty of books
Go read! Fitzgerald, Kerouac, Twain
Emerson, Rand, Tolstoy, Hemingway
Thoreau, Dostoyevsky, Neruda, Yeats
Great words are forever here to stay
It is solely up to you
To build up your literary wealth
But I will constantly judge you
For the contents of your bookshelf
One must be a seeker
To discover unique truth amongst the thorns
Head down, hiding that grime I feel inside
I’m intelligent, yet not enough to forewarn
Trying to eek out a stable existence
With all these storms heading my way
But you have to want to be something more
Never content at the beginning of the day
We’re bordering on anarchy
With the streets continuing to seethe
This communal madness
Fighting for our shared right to breathe
But I have a long forgotten confession
Which will leave you confused & aghast
Tacked to the back of a soul’s liberty
Forever within the defense of our contrasts
I think you have the wrong notion of me
I could be wrong, but it’s what I believe
I’m neither the saint nor the villain
In which your notions are trying to achieve
I’m not nearly as arrogant as I portray
That’s merely the manifestation of a fictional role
I know confidence is sexy & I’m trying my best
But I have doubts regarding the quality of the contents of my soul
Avoiding those trendy spots
It’s just never been my style
I’m a bit more low key than that
No sense in unnecessary trials
Crowds are wildly irrational
I have no desire to submit myself
Let me recoil from this society
Contentment in solitude is my true wealth
I don’t need all that chaos
I’m content with simple taste
Up early in the morning
To ensure the day isn’t a waste
A prayer, a pen & a book
Foundations to a solid grin
Society can’t take it from me
In control as the world spins
“If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content.”
― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
Captain Q 