Naked recitals on a rainy day
Pursuing words off the tip of her tongue
The bookmark’s subtle movement
But that bell won’t be un-rung
I have a weakness for smart women
There’s a deliciousness to their thoughts
Flaunting her drop-dead genius
Leaving me bothered & hot
Innocently lewd ending with a flourish
She comes to me, reaching to kiss my earlobe
Retreats with a curtsy à la nude
She’s done; winks & pulls closed her robe
You can keep your digital playgrounds
I care not for a Kindle nor a Nook
There’s no time for your technology
At the end of the day, just give me a book
The old fashioned kind, maybe a paperback
Anything without a power source
I don’t need your highbrow radiation
I’ll stick with tangible pages of course
I may hail from generations past
Perhaps I’m boorish, perhaps I’m a lout
But I’m pretty damn basic when the day is done
I’ll still have my pages when the lights go out
Riding the winds of the hurricane
Knowing we’re going to lose power
Stacking the ends of loose leaf paper
Don’t know the time/ don’t know the hour
Pouring a drink, settling in this night
Toast the storm, this one’s going to be a fighter
But when all is said & done
Imagination is how I fuel my typewriter
Don’t forget to repeat our truth in unison
Stand up straight with proper military bearing
Forget your conscience; such things are done
Keep on moving toward the triumph of the daring
Unfurl the banners so that we might recite
Let the people know what we’re fighting for
Light the fires, so the boys may march by night
Let them live out their dreams in the glories of war
Remain focused- don’t live within your heads
For the battle is real, so is the carnage by the blade
You need to stay loyal or your sons will wind up dead
Listen to the drums, forget the thoughts we’ve forbade
This existence is painful, but hell will be hotter
Don’t return with blood soaked memories to spurn
Live up to the fullest; embrace the full-bodied slaughter
Raise your swords to the sky & let the traitors burn
How do we leave the living?
Thoughts on life & what’s left undone
Trampled petals & forgotten scars
Knowing the sun cannot be outrun
How will we be remembered?
Comforted; knowing Jesus saves
Settle into being a compassionate soul
For we all end up wallowing in the grave
“It always seems impossible until its done.” – Nelson Mandela
Captain Q 