Alone with my thoughts
Shut up in this temporary, two room apartment
Thinking through imagination
Rack my brain to conjure anything Heaven sent
Ink spilled, but nothing to write home about
Languished notions in an attempt at creation
Yet a vision of satire is all that I am
Craving a spark; anything to produce elation
The gentle fog of last night’s revelry
Walking the streets before the sun
Overcorrecting the crooked events
Getting myself right before the day’s begun
Dreamscapes fading in these early hours
Scars to tell tales of an alternate narrative
Truth impedes the recital of our union
Clinging to our bodies not always so imperative
Setting the scene amidst several libations
Resulting in sloppy notes from the underground
These aren’t mundane epitaphs from stone
Rather just trinkets for creation to remain unbound

Waking early before the morning
Monitoring the world, as I sip my achromatic brew
The front window, my porthole to beyond
From this security, I decipher what is true
I try to formulate tangible creations
Converting inspiration into mere words
Observations from my suburban perch
Sharing stories with Poe’s bleak-hued bird
Writing down the secrets she might share
Enlivening my dreams on this quiet block
Churning thoughts into hopeful spools
In which might allow my mind to dynamically unlock
It’s not a leer nor an ogle
It’s an enthusiastic appreciation
I’m soaking in your beauty
Forever grateful of your creation
We are here to be free
Rise; for it is time to wake
Walk tall among your fellow man
Fill your soul with love for its own sake
Do not pluck flowers any longer
For it merely condemns them to die
Uplift all creation; we’re here as one
Carry hope with you in the morning sky
We’ve survived another night
I wake to pinks, purples & blues
The Almighty with a new creation
When She draped the sky in royal hues
Stretching, creaking & yawning
With chaos falling all around me
Rising slowly before dust settles
It’s time to pour myself fresh coffee
The slightest thought of you
Makes me squirm in my seat
Passion boiling until its true
Creation ignites under sheets
Our dreams hold us hostage
Chained to our high ideals
Lost to our intemperate youth
The past reaches out & steals
Time lost to us; never again
What’s forgotten can’t be regained
Our lives are our creation
Figments we’ll never fully explain
Captain Q 