The small sips after a long day
The setting sun & the horizon’s gone
Relaxing quietly in the simplest ways
Left to retreat until the impending dawn
The Small Sips After A Long Day
dawn
I Do Not Have The Weight Of Fading Beauty
I do not have the weight of fading beauty
I was never handed that cross to bear
I will dissipate into the darkness
With few knowing I’m no longer there
But she feels the pain of time
Thinking a curse as we continue to age
The anguish of remaining alive
Yet each new dawn is another blank page
Awake Early In The Naked, Teal Morning
Awake early in the naked, teal morning
Still wet from dancing in the rain
My subconscious kissing her femininity
But the memories remain love-stained
Her fingers gripping my shoulders
Our souls constantly trying to absorb
Soft, low moans quietly evident
I’m enchanted by her fleshy orbs
We’re exposed in the light of dawn
A realness that won’t be concealed
We have a glow of our own
No words exist, but a truth she can feel
I’m No Hero
I’m no hero
Just trying to make it through the night
Terrors & dreams haunting me
Still, daylight expects a man of might
Liberation Granted By The Morning Alarm
Liberation granted by the morning alarm
Still alive; this body aching with rippling fatigue
October visions, yet I’m safe from obvious harm
Visions dwindling; remnants of horrific intrigue
Seeking out coffee to loosen this slumber
A stretch & chance to deliberately mourn
These dreams encrusted in burnt umber
Sworn to abide by the wisdom of Nat Hawthorn
The terror that befalls us when we’re unaware
Soon free from the slow tolling of the funeral bell
Needful sleep caught us within a nightmare
Unconsciously breaking from a manufactured hell
Visions of dropping acid with William Blake
Dawn is our escape; returning to peace as we wake
I Went For A Walk In The Predawn Hours
I went for a walk in the predawn hours
I could feel something wasn’t quite right
’Twas a red sky morning/sailor take warning
Amiss; something’s gone bump in the night
There was a time I went walking in the woods
Fatigued; this existence has become too tense
It was there I encountered the damned zombies
They stole my peace along with my sensibility & sense
Now, I don’t do much walking outside of the wire
If I must, I seek protection from my Heavenly Lord
I never fail to bring along a prayer upon my lips
& in my hand the weight & might of the Wu-Tang sword
*found this graffiti in Wilhelmshaven, Germany in 2017
Treading Lightly On The Soft Highway
Treading lightly on the soft highway
Searching onward for the Earthbound divinity
Through the desert with the primal scream
Broken decibels ring out, yet amount to infinity
Silver pistol tucked in drawer of hosiery
Known to man only by a chintzy nom de plume
I always preferred a thick bottomed almanac
Slowed, but we have big energy to exhume
Dawn rises, yet the Truth still silently sleeps
Looking for prophets in the glittering sun
Too bright for our modern, mortal myopia
Be still; be patient as time is not yet overrun
Another Tepid Morning, Waiting Silently
Another tepid morning, waiting silently
Dawn yet to break, but my head feels that way
These dog days lapse like a bit of purgatory
Standing before St. Patrick with nothing to say
Teetering & more than slightly confused
Checking my watch; praying its not too late
Did my heart stop? How did I go so astray
Jolted back- the Almighty’s nectar begins to percolate
Cantankered Nights
Cantankered nights
Relying on pure belief
Summer nights are cold
First dawn a welcomed relief
Catcalls At Dawn
Catcalls at dawn
It’s too early for this
I haven’t had my coffee
Please settle down there, Miss
I need a moment
For I enjoy this attention
Such important thoughts
Are beyond my comprehension
The Weird Specifics Of A Dream
The weird specifics of a dream
The foundering theories of the sunrise
Possibilities for an endless dawn
Dispelled traits when we finally open our eyes
These are our prosperous times
When we find the inspiration to achieve
Minutes into hours of falling sand
But once we wake, can you still believe
I Feel Like A Bull In A China Shop
I feel like a bull in a China shop
I feel ugly next to you swans
Not wanting to detract from you
I wander off into the rising dawn
I try to find a genuine smile
I feel like I’m pressing my luck
I’m not meant to be amongst beauty
For I’m not pretty; I’m just a duck
The Tyranny Of Our Modern Age
The tyranny of our modern age
The repulsive nature of our exploited rights
Coming for us before the dawn
Another stolen soul in the night
But pump the brakes there Swamp Thing
Florida is basically the Outbreak Monkey
We can’t be too safe these days
Besides, a lot of y’all were already funky
I’ll be hunkered down, away from idiots
This blanket fort is causing me to itch
Stay home, so we can eventually go outside
Like Carole Baskin, the Covid is a bitch
Captain Q 