Delayed Motion Of Her Hand

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Delayed motion of her hand
Lost in thought; unable to translate
The slippery notion of time
Within the energy of a tangible fate

Let us remain discrete in our words
She tries to focus as I obnoxiously flirt
Concentrating on writing proper forms
Caught her unaware as I reached up her skirt

I Can Use All The Proper Words

I can use all the proper words
When needed, I can even be discrete
Whispering the sauciest story you ever heard
My dear, because of you, I am complete


I tend to be modest, but our love is real
By your coy smile, I know I’m on the right track
Your fingers trace & slowly reveal
My God woman! You have the loveliest rack!

Rubbing Their Fingers Over The Stereo Knob

Photo by Victoria Borodinova on Pexels.com

Rubbing their fingers over the stereo knob
The frequencies distorted on the airwaves
Kings of the new world & thus apocalyptic
Searching for something more pragmatic to crave

These technocrats with no concept of reality
Tasking – without offering an alternate fate
Demanding citizens for homages to be digital
With no power to control – or else we attenuate

Words of peace have the chance to amplify
Even when we’re feeling out of time/out of sync
Don’t need their fiber optic lies to survive
A blind man loses all when forced to blink

Tapping into a passion without any circuits
Our transistors are live; we’re lovers thus discrete
There’s no stopping us when their signal’s weak
There’s nothing but fire & sparks when our wires meet

This life is forever altered now we’re here
Do not attempt to adjust the squelch
You’re listening to Radio Free America
Standing proud & robust like Raquel Welch