Please tell me a story
Give me a reason to smile
Distract me from this distress
& forget these damn trials
One day, these will be a memory
A nightmare of us being apart
But until that blissful moment
I’d love something from the heart
Waking up with a distracted mind
Aftershocks from a week on the grind
Trying to find value before the end of life’s lease
Notes on the venerable self & a lyrical muse to find
Walking up the cold steps of Old Main
A place to encounter books out of the rain
An affinity for the ones with the creases
A shared notion of binding pain
Wondering what fresh barriers to get through
But, I’m not here to explain anything to you
I’m here to love you as we search for peace
That our story & passion continue their rendezvous
The glories of a sunny morning
Smiling into my coffee; subtle credo
Trying to create my masterpiece
But, I’m distracted by my libido
Looking for my stunning bride
Maybe get a little taste under her skirt
A surefire way to get artistic juices flowing
Interest shifted; she can only help, never hurt
I’m the footnote to your memory
Everyone will remember how you touched their soul
I’m just the quiet guy in the background
Working hard to help make your vision whole
I’m not the one to be seen nor heard
But to fade away when they extinguish the lights
Forgotten once the dream falls to recess
Sealed once we find our departing flights
I never wished to distract from you
I humbly serve your silent grace
No aim to conjure something more
Merely to bask in beautiful refraction of your face
I don’t have pretty eyes to attract
Nor a beautiful body to distract
A middle aged, middle class white dude
with no street cred
With charm & gentlemanly conduct
instead
I’ll have to choose the proper words
To prevent from being misheard
Where did our youthful exuberance go
Closed off from a litany of feelings of truth
But I don’t want to be like them
Not worried about a bent halo or tarnished tiara
Angst of foregone conclusions
I want something of substance
Never tamed by society’s expectations
A slow, smoldering strangeness
Embracing the stature of being a little weird
Impervious to judgements of being bland
For through and through, I can only be me
Never standing for someone else’s brand
I hope to always be wild enough to be free
Mornings naturally rise
Catching sunshine in my eyes
Distracted by the obvious glare
Misdirected like you really cared
Left feeling a bit obtuse
Never in pity, what’s the use
Taking a moment to feel low
Then return to what we all know
Be smarter, don’t get deceived again
Or merely rewrite it all with your pen
At this point, there are no rules
Ignore their taunts, the damn fools
Karma will get them in the end
52nd layer of hell is for fake friends
She wore white to the hanging
Fingers smudged from setting the patriarchy to burn
She wore a guilty smile
For they would never ever seem to learn
By her beauty, they were always distracted
But her brains they never could comprehend
Once the fire went viral
They wished they could call her a friend
They picked such an angelic foe
Yet kept her bound by tradition & canon & law
But you can never chain ideas down
Imprudence by the state was the final straw
Continual pandering as a cultural trait
Overwrought force; their idea as the solution
The spark still smoldering in her eyes
Never again the victim, she’s the whole damn revolution
*This is a reaction to rewatching the movie Cat Ballou with modern eyes.
Word by structured word
Searching for concrete textuality
She dropped her handkerchief coyly
Never again to forget her sexuality
Her head thrown back in a laugh
What makes her heart quicken its beat
I’m pacing – racking my distracted brain
Inspired to write, I hasten to take a seat
I’m rockin’ this dad bod
& making it look good
Unapologetically localized
Home in Suburban neighborhoods
I’m not trying to distract
Any of the ladies living nearby
I’m just trying to live my life
I’m just your normal, boring guy
I’m prematurely grumpy
A hermit; writing down in the dungeon
Devastatingly handsome, locked away
Keep out! – here be a curmudgeon
Keep a passing eye on fortune
Elevated from a closing remark
Cutting eyes in a curious direction
Distracted by life on a lark
Lost to the world
Locked in her own device
Once sought after
Remaining temperate of ice
Beauty a lesser value now
Hiding behind electronics
Binary thoughts; needs a reboot
Now she’ll need Hooked on Phonics
Image by Karolina Grabowska from Pixabay
Captain Q 