Events Like Watergate Come & Go

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Events like Watergate come & go
Revealing to the public our national shame
We no longer trust the government
Any effort to deceive us is just plain lame

Our capitalistic masters heading for disaster
These pathetically absurd
Creating content for the algorithm
But they don’t care about our words

Dr. Strangeglove is plotting
The folly of the Pentagon staff
Making old ladies weep
When only evil men can still laugh

Time keeps ticking, even when we hurt
Old white men will begin to campaign
Dropping promises like forgotten love notes
The people cast aside once they pop champagne

You ask me frivolous questions
Who shall I vote for
I don’t know who cares
But, I’m rooting for no one in 2024

The Growing Need To Wake Up & Create

Photo by M e r v e on Pexels.com

The growing need to wake up & create
Her stockings laid gently
                         over the ornate partition
Sacred vulnerabilities shared
Poetic affirmations after discarding
                          the bland tropes
All sins must return to the sea

20 Years Later

Photo by Darya Sannikova on Pexels.com

20 years later
I’m still chasing her around the bedroom
My lovely wife; thrice creator of life
Forever trying to uphold the vows of the groom

Time doesn’t stand a chance
Against the perpetual tide of my devotion
More in love with her every day
You know what they say about the laws of motion

I Want To Write

Photo by Polina Kovaleva on Pexels.com

I want to write
But I don’t have the words
So I watch the ink seep silently
I know you’re thinking I’m absurd

So many empty notebooks
To fill with small little doodles & swirls
Intimidated by the stark whiteness
I don’t know how to create lasting worlds

Pondering & delving into thought
Present in my feelings with offerings to burn
Slowly churning my fickle imagination
In the hopes a bit of creativity might return

In Defense Of The Outcasts & Weirdos

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

In defense of the outcasts & weirdos
Those strange fellows who demand to be free
Exposing thought & sincerity to open air
To live one’s own life & forever reject conformity

Counting oneself amongst the abnormal
Involuntarily immersed in thought & deed
The action of creating poetic existence
For some days, that might be all we need

Walking Down The Street On All Saints’ Day

dress-2542263_1920.jpg

Walking down the street on All Saints’ Day
Victrolas on display at the corner store
A flirtatious greeting with the local beauty
She always smiles, but never asks for more

You’ve created another aura within her
Casting her as red-blooded in your pulp fantasy
A polite lady with those vicious high heels
Mental interludes without consent, it seems to me

Take your dreams & exit stage left
You tried to court & failed, life’s not fair
Let a true gentleman whisper elegant words
She’ll open up her passion, exposing her silky pair

I Don’t Speak Of The Dark Times

Photo by Erik Mclean on Pexels.com

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

Run Away & Join The Circus

I want to run away & join the circus
To be done with this life at sea
To kiss the ground she walks on
Solid foundations forever under me


Scribbling love notes to my lady
Creating a new world of literary lust
A positive existence springing forth
My happiness nestled within her bust

Seeking A Spiritual Remedy

Photo by Humphrey Muleba on Pexels.com

Seeking a spiritual remedy
For my soul isn’t quite whole
Burnt out & emotionally drained
Tea cup’s empty & I’m no longer in control

Midcentury motif & I’m peeling paint
Shrinking violets & closing in walls
Pushing back against our growing pains
Energy to create, but my life remains a free fall

Taking Time To Reside In Detail

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

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

I Know Exactly What I Want

Photo by Edward Eyer on Pexels.com

I know exactly what I want
She tells me I’m a lurid temptation
But she eagerly kisses me back
We’re creating a whole new sensation

The only lover my forever will ever know
Doesn’t matter if you can’t understand
Together, we’re damn near perfect
& she sure feels good in my hands

The Root Of Most Of Our Evils

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Men are the root of most of our evils
Blatantly sucking out the formidable joys
Loud & egotistically neutering themselves
They can’t help but systematically destroy

Yet, we’re told of the biblical herrings
But we must reject any & all hate
In the face of most adversities
We still have women who manage to create

Working On This Beach Bod

Working on this beach bod
Lived my whole life up in my head
Trying to become something lovable
Society left me mostly ignored instead

Attempts to create an unique existence
Purging the dreadful; want something more
An authentic soul bent on sincerity
Giving you my all, but you’d rather have Thor

I can’t be anything that I’m not
I’m lifting weight, going for a run
Never listen to what a fool transcends
Getting old is not any fun

Collecting Fragments Of Free Thought

Collecting fragments of free thought
The missing pieces of a discarded word
Unknown & forgotten loves in innerspace
Unfortunately time reduces us by a third

Intellectuals hunkered down – protecting wisdom
Throwing bones, sharpening knives & wit
Critical theories to counteract
The cultural elite reminding me I ain’t shit

But I continue down my solitary path
Creating worlds out of the persistently intangible
I return- baring all for artistic intent
But alas this vessel’s no Michelangelo

The John Wayne Type

Photo by ROSA GATTUSO on Pexels.com

I admit I’m not the John Wayne type
I’m not one who wants to fight
Though, I’m not afraid of confrontations
I’d just love rather love my woman by candlelight


I’m a sensitive soul
I’ve been called needy, immature & worse
I just want the time to write of my emotions
Creating a universe into which we’ll fully immerse

 

 

 

Knowing The Bottom Of The Depths

Knowing the bottom of the depths
Untold theories where passion lies
Encased all in a delicate French lace
The truth that logic & gravity defies

Earthbound creatures can’t be understood
It’s simply not in our fallible DNA
Attempted in conversational tones
But we’ve lost connection anyway

Trying to find a way back to the meaning
Reason doesn’t apply to moments like this
Disregard the pressures of our past
That we might create our own sustainable bliss

Image by Dayron Villaverde from Pixabay 

I’m So Happy, I’ll Dance You A Jig

Photo by Mieke Boogert on Pexels.com

I’m so happy, I’ll dance you a jig
With my eyes open, these dreams so big

Still living this life with childhood eyes
Truth always revealed as the tears dried

Sailing ships, battered by wind & storm
Ignoring reason, logic & the accepted norm

Life gets hectic, it’s often a terrible mess
Never grow up, push past into happiness

Fairy influence & the magic it might behold
Let us go now & create a story that’s yet untold

Where love & insanity will always meet
The freedom within our wild heartbeats

Close your eyes, finding something lost
Your favorite memory forever embossed

Tossed into slumbering pages of a book
Captive audiences held by Captain Hook

The golden cutlass, the prize of his plunder
Sharp, but wit marks our Boy Wonder

The best things in life are never planned
Without remorse, we return to Neverland

The Drippings Of My Mind

Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com

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

Unfettered and Unlined

Photo by Samson Katt on Pexels.com

Unfettered and unlined
Drinking coffee deep into the night
Unfiltered; seeing life as it truly is
Feeling raw, returning to my machine to write

I’m pulling the strings, creating fictional tales
A life breathing under these mechanical keys
Slowly coming to the surface
A birth in words, triumph in moment’s like these

My Love Resembles

My love resembles
A smattering of prose
Lady, I beg you
Won’t you touch those toes?

I’ll create any dream you like
Stories, poems or tales
Infatuation lingering now
Smitten with all you avail

I wish for your subtle tease
But I can’t handle your stare
I’ll write anything you please
Though I fear you’re quite rare

She Wore A Smart Suit

She wore a smart suit
Setting her apart from the rest
She was a fine specimen
Altered from her years out West

The tailor created perfection
It loved her feminine curve
The details you won’t miss
Feeling beauty in your structured nerves

Those blonde curls, nice & tight
Noticing underthings peeking through
Regaining my composure in time
Don’t want my excitement to be misconstrued

Image by Daria Nepriakhina from Pixabay

Trying To Recreate Life

Photo by Erkam Hayta on Pexels.com

Trying to recreate life
In spite of these ink-stained fingers
The smudges in the interior margins
Forgotten, yet where light tends to linger

These days aren’t so easily understood
I contradict back onto myself
Leaving traces in my erratic wake
All I know – Love has been my only true wealth

Empty Wine Bottles Clink; Devoid Of All Inspiration

Photo by Anastasia Shuraeva on Pexels.com

Empty wine bottles clink; devoid of all inspiration
But that’s not the way you remembered they bled
Choosing the perfect wording for posterity
A trembling shadow of what the poets once said

We once set out to create a fresh universe
But that’s not the way I can any longer think
Falling in love with strange, beautiful women
The source & reason for all the dedicated ink

Our souls entwined in deliberate communion
But that’s not the way that I came to be lost
Specific writings to engrave our cosmic lust
Forever entombed within this highland frost

Transfiguring Lips Into Fabergé Petals

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad on Pexels.com

Transfiguring lips into Fabergé petals
Feeling decadent painting the night sky
Let us rejoice with our illustrious words
Palpitating deliberately when bliss is nigh
These fanciful & bountiful thoughts of yonder
Possibly plentiful but not quite enough for us
Imaginative; creating a softer substantial side
We’re most serene when we’re a bit mussed