Good morning
Light stretching & taking hold
Too long under these covers
Happenchance favors the bold
Time to spread these sea legs
Arching my back & flexing my arms
It feels good to still be alive
We’ve shuttered close, yet escaped any harm
Feigning the glamorous life
Proof of the shiny being a mirage
Charlatan; promising a false idol
Arbiter of a fictional montage
The veil covering honest intentions
Quiet manipulation of time
Epiphanies with truth in reality
But I now know, I’d rather be in the grime
Another day of cold coffee & inspirational songs
I’m trying to survive with all my might
I’m not looking to be acceptable
Merely wishing to cherish what’s in my sight
Ink smudges quietly upon my palms
Unsure of my words, failing with adequate prose
Years fall into decades, but still
I’m flailing; conjuring an incomplete rose
The muse sits rocking, mocking
She struts out of reach of what I believe
Taunting me to sell my soul in angst
So I cover my typewriter in a sheet of Celtic weave
The sultan of suntan
Smelling like oils & lotions
Sand clinging to your soul
Cleansed by the water’s motion
Purged of evaporating dreams
We can focus on existence
Wringing it all out
At love’s steadfast insistence
All secrets illuminated
Nothing remains within
Cover of cheap shades
Truth permeates the skin
Walking quietly along the dusty rows
I’ve forgotten dreams, but that’s how it goes
Bought the leather bound tome for 35 quid
Trying to uncover God, but she remains hid
Secret to life on the page, but that’s all anyone knows
The sun rising too quickly
Causing you to begin cursing
These are our shared moments
With these spirits we’re nursing
The cold causing me to shiver
I need some more of your covers
But you have none to spare
Exposing you; a temperamental lover
Captain Q 