Quiet, unassuming
Knee deep in your chores
Content in your blessings
But once dreamed of more
Passion fizzled with stress
Domestically kept & cared
Cloaked in suburban life
But I see beauty in there
Quiet, Unassuming
dream
True To Life, But Hard To Digest The Pain
True to life, but hard to digest the pain
Adversity compounded living without rest
Altered dreams when slumbers can’t remain
Been ages since she authentically felt her best
I’m The Footnote To Your Memory
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
Surrounding Myself With Ancient Friends
Surrounding myself with ancient friends
Wisdom & experiences laid upon my shelf
Bare for all to quietly consume
Providing a chance for a better version of self
Absorbing past lives without pause
Silhouettes of women from long ago
Angst from existential rights in time
Visions of dreams I wish to forgo
These books are mere placeholders
For the contents of my heart upon hardwood
Gentle reminders of our former intellect
& the hope we might return to being good
There’s Magic In Knowing The Soul
There’s magic in knowing the soul
you cannot live without
Is more precious than anything in front of you
The inability to cease from a scream or shout
The seas have parted
Allowing visions to reach us within earshot
You can only see the beauty of a cherished soul
Neither are we perfect, but we’re all we’ve got
Translucence when we slumber
Taken away to the shores of our dreams
The impossible comfort of paradise
Allowing for beliefs to be more than they seem
Perfection Laid Out On Satin Sheets
Perfection laid out on satin sheets
Beauty dripping away piece by piece
Every dream slipped right through
Life & loss masked by laughing creases
He said you were everything he desired
Burning deep in his soul, but you refused
Moving too fast to stop & notice him
Yet you cry foul, saying you were abused
The sun rises no matter who is pained
Recall broken hearts when you’re the cause
Plump out your pretty pink lips
In the quiet of night, please retract your claws
Calm thyself, you know your own heart
Time to realize you’re the fatal flaw
So You Think You Want To Be Wild
So you think you want to be wild
But you’ve never left the city gates
Living within such structure
Organizing a lush, manicured fate
Pushing forth the semblance of influence
Yet, outwardly needing to create a scene
Dreaming of an adventurous existence
& what breaking free could possibly mean
Finding Ourselves Locked In A Torrent
Finding ourselves locked in a torrent
Quietly dreaming of a harder way
Searching for the proper inspiration
Perhaps I’ll have something intelligent to say
I’m just a local loser with unlimited potential
Most will note my life has been an utter waste
Mocked & forgotten since you dismiss my face
In retrospect- you pine for my notion once you got a taste
I Can’t Write With This Cluttered Mind
I can’t write with this cluttered mind
Too many tabs pulling at my attention
Structures of thought too often recede
Failing me when I most need comprehension
I’m tired of dreaming of the love I want
I’m tired of writing peace line by line
Where do we find a comforting solace
Lasting longer than the crystals of winter sunshine
Thoughts Of Another Calendar Year
Thoughts of another calendar year
The hopes & dreams you wish to achieve
Dropping needless burdens – disappear
Regrouping; returning to what you believe
How do we move forward toward our goal
To be resolute & live to be heart-whole
***
Authentically alive with a smile & a pure soul
You Don’t See It
You don’t see it
The boys not getting enough sleep
Those who have abandoned their homes
Keeping watch over the watery deep
You don’t see it
Those who dream of something better
Youth sacrificing blindly
Riding the tide, salt spray getting wetter
You don’t see it
Loading sea bags in early morning hours
Walking the gangplank in the face of fear
Trusting their lives to a Greater Power
I Wish To Whisper Elegant Tales
I wish to whisper elegant tales
They’ll allow you to follow me
Through the transfers of light
These are moments you’ll be free
I know you have never believed
In what I forever sought & dreamed
We could have been truly great
You always wanted better it seemed
Cold Coffee & A Stash Of Lost Dreams
Cold coffee & a stash of lost dreams
A distant memory of those rail yards
But we weren’t ourselves with honesty
Not the renegades or anything that hard
Images of what we might yet become
Grabbing self-regard before it fades
Destroying their notions of modernism
Returning to polka dotted shirts & dark shades
We all have our morbid skeletons
The vague semblance of a broken soul
But somewhere are the clues to the truth
Somewhere when lightning meets a weary, old skull
Gentle Sunrises
Gentle sunrises
Slowly awakening my soul
One last toss & turn
My dream meter once again full
Telling Stories After Dark
Telling stories after dark
Occasionally with Tom Waits in the lead
Fantastical little allegories
Bringing a light to those souls in need
No need to whisper in the shadows
Luminous words to prepare the way
Removing barriers to our enlightenment
Witticisms fleshed out & on display
Short tales to get creative juices flowing
Harking back to dreams that we might meet
Subtle differences between the pauses
Allowing our imaginations to properly greet
Scenes from our own round table
Foreplay within our cheeky banter
Conjuring visions of a keen passion
Diluted memories at the bottom of our decanter
Bad behavior leads to a more examined life
Though through fiction we can live eternal
A little more sensitive than you want to believe
Yearning to be held by a beautiful dame so maternal
Out here with our hearts raised to the sky
Searching for better answers on the midnight shore
With the freedom to imagine wisdom laid bare
Parsed theories for when we sent them off to war
Subtle manipulation within our romantic esthetics
Unreliable narrators marching; our literary brigade
There’s no vernacular for hearts’ folly
Pushing forth our gentle notion love might persuade
In the end, dear friends, our parable is contrite
In this heinous world, we all have a simple choice
I lay myself to slumber, a fatigued sailor
Wishing for a lullaby coming from Nick Cave’s voice
Image by Eli Digital Creative from Pixabay
Midnight’s A Fine Time To Take The Jacksonville Train
Midnight’s a fine time to take the Jacksonville train
Rolling double boxcars to decide our fate
Gotta get back to my lover’s bedside
‘cause women like that don’t hardly wait
Been dreaming of her since the days of steam
Finely dressed woman with incalculable sense
I’m lagging behind schedules & timetables
Hindered by a world of devastating pretense
Spellbound, in the terminal cloister, trying to keep track
Our destiny dwindling, chanced by the tumble of dice
Fearing snake eyes when we need eleven
For lightning isn’t going to strike us down twice
Separation has me feeling on the edge of sincerity
Bleary eyes blinked time & again for some sanity
I’m not emotionally set up for these tribulations
Fear of failing, yet no marks upon my frivolous vanity
Memories of forgotten moments in the text
Perhaps it’s time for me to remain fully alert
But I can’t ignore how my insides churn
The notions of the woman so beautifully pert
It’s risky to return my heart for ante
Somewhere she’s loosening her bustle
This venture is getting out of hand
When she’s applying her legendary hustle
Pulling into the station, I know my lot
A few hours late; enough for passion to be reclaimed
I’ve tried my best, but crapped out again
In my weakness, I become loved; that’s when the angels came
Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay
I Can’t Sleep When my Mind Rattles
I can’t sleep when my mind rattles
Possibility of losing the dream stirs me awake
I need to cherish all we have
Though my poor soul needs a break
Lady, I love you more than words
Prove to me this isn’t a nightmare
That all we have is real & secure
Rouse me from fear; smack my derrière
Upon Awakening
Upon awaking
I find my face littered with pixie dust
With no possibilities of faking
I’ve been visiting paradise, I trust
Off chasing adventure in the streams
& you thought I fell asleep on my book
Neverland is not only in my dreams
But these scars caused clearly by a hook
Suburban Arcades & Record Stores
Suburban arcades & record stores
Love notes left jammed in the teletype
Ancient technologies lost to whims of time
Sacrilege of consuming before it’s ripe
Littered by dreams of public-school poets
Falling to the feminine side of healing
Whose obedience to authority lingers
But only the lonely are rhymin’ & stealin’
Our literary antihero catching the cliff notes
A repressed childhood is still better by half
Trying to make up for that deleted time
But you can’t get far by writing on decaf
Standing with arms braced to the wind
Needing antiquity to know how we perform
Rolling empty dice against our loaded fates
Summer on the coast ensures the storm
Our Fragile Egos Remain Outright
Our fragile egos remain outright
Yet still free – not compelled by those
In the trenches we find disaster
Inspired to richly & sullenly compose
How do we heal? How do we grow?
Absorbing vibrations & her headspace blues
Redefinition of cool among the vulnerable
Rising morale since she turned off the news
Erratic dreams of dismantling love
The early signposts to the apocalypse
Gentle rise becomes glaring to our eyes
Summer mornings feel fresh on our nips
Ground control to juxtaposed fallacies
Squandering purest moments we’ll know
With no intention to rattle a dull saber
Paradise; when I only wanted a cup of joe
My Love Resembles
My love resembles
A smattering of prose
Lady, I beg you
Won’t you touch those toes?
I’ll create any dream you like
Stories, poems or tales
Infatuation lingering now
Smitten with all you avail
I wish for your subtle tease
But I can’t handle your stare
I’ll write anything you please
Though I fear you’re quite rare
These Broken & Delayed Dreams
These broken & delayed dreams
Electric toothbrushes that constantly hum
A pocketful of change
& girls with eyes so pretty it makes me dumb
I’m not one to make a great scene
Yet I’m your average middle-aged guy
Not counted among the mundane
I couldn’t be normal, even if I tried
So we’re all stuck in this spinning limbo
A world with mixed up priorities & hate
I’m confused by all this wasted time
One of these days the hourglass will cease to rotate
So, I’m probably going to be late for work
For my beautiful woman resides in this bed
I could be responsible & get there on time
But I’m always going to choose to love instead
Image by Claudio_Scott from Pixabay
Tisk Tisk, Mr. Smith
Tisk tisk, Mr. Smith
She slapped her hand with the pointer
Looking up, I see she’s stern
I stand, wishing to anoint her
I am commanded to about face
I’ve committed an infraction
Taking stock of my flesh
She swoons in satisfaction
But I’m returned to my kitchen
Now pouring a cup of Lady Grey
The kettle broke the spell
My imagination had taken me away
Disquieted Moments In The Afternoon
Disquieted moments in the afternoon
These Springtime rays have a golden hour
Reflecting youth into my weary eyes
The reassuring notion of dreampower
Yet gone are the mornings we woke afresh
Our mortal flesh reeling down on Earth
Life; the thorn in the side of this existence
Internal fire requires our souls a wider berth
The slings & arrows shall never fully hinder
For love always eventually finds a way
Darkness cannot extinguish the sun
This truth discovered by the piercing light of day
Dreary Days Upon The Quiet Streets
Dreary days upon the quiet streets
Our dreams rising in the partial mist
Absorbing unfiltered words & sentiment
Those passionate hours forever kissed
Walk With Me, Sweet Lady
I’m Not Going To Forfeit This Life
I’m not going to forfeit this life
Grasping at reality along the way
Running headlong into risk
Finding out what the youth have to say
Nurturing growth & development
Truth remains after their neglected lie
Sweat falls from my brow – a start
We can’t let the dream of freedom die
Image by Tibor Janosi Mozes from Pixabay
Headed Downtown For The Literary Type
Headed downtown for the literary type
Searching for the scribes of our weary day
To heal my heart with words that matter
I’ve tried, but I don’t see any other way
Falling stars may not mean much to you
But I’m here without any expectation or hope
Where do we find our reasons for love
Even we can kill our dreams, given enough rope
Wandering In The Forest
Wandering in the forest without a notion
With my lovely bride by my side
Looking up at the wonders of nature
Between the trees there’s no room to hide
Finding seasons we don’t know at home
Rain, snow & all other forms of emotion
Transparent dreams offer no resistance
Treasures washed away by the errant ocean
Textured Mornings
Textured mornings
Sitting around waiting on the French press
Remnants of dreams & pleas
Filtered through a truncated dress
Beneath lies details
Of scattered lace & bows
But in the end, emotion far outweighs my prose
Our Nakedness Is Best
Our nakedness is best
Embracing the natural glory of bridal lust
Silken sheets draped over vulnerable flesh
Nothing more generous than her copious bust
Searching for each other in the dark
Feeling the nerves of the unnamed
Blamed for objectification of beauty
Obscured by passion of the untamed
Invoking the obstacle to love
Falling voiceless midstream
Our consensual fantasies
Not a normal woman, yet a rare dream
Let me compose my magnum opus
Moans & silences are highly deductive
We cling to each other forever
Yet the eye contact is steadily seductive
Perfect tendencies as I slowly caress
Knowing the words to make you blush
Grand moments of our unrestrained union
Grateful you’re still my soul-revealing crush
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’m Not A Perfect Dream
I’m not a perfect dream
But I’m not a perfect mess
I’m somewhere in between
But I’m probably a little less
I’m out here trying my best
Usually in darkness before the day
I find at times I just need a hug
& for her to tell me I’ll be okay
I’m Hanging On For Dear Life
I’m hanging on for dear life
As you whisk me around
I’m dangerously close
My soul being bound
To you & all this joy
You whisper it’s not real
That you’re just a dream
Then how come I can still feel
I’m Tired, Weary, Fatigued, However You Want To Call It
I’m tired, weary, fatigued, however you want to call it
This world is tearing itself apart, with no end in sight
Neighbors can’t stand the appearance of each other
If we don’t swerve, we’re all going to face the fiery night
Reject hate, reject them, reject the world’s system
I don’t care if kindness long ago went out of fashion
Don’t accept your options, make your own way
We need return to art, return to love & compassion
‘They’ are anyone who’ll tell you we can’t survive
Without stooping down to unconscionable degrees
Rebel, refuse & reclaim enlightenment & love
Lead ourselves away from their dysfunctional societies
God reserves a place in Hell for those who spout hate
Whether you believe in Christ or what Buddha taught
Love doesn’t see the differences between us
We can do better; a peaceful way must be sought
Politicians are no more than door to door salesmen
Fraudulent purveyors of the American dreamscape
But we, the silent underground, emerging each day
Fed up with their vision, proof that heroes don’t wear capes
Image by Grae Dickason from Pixabay
Sitting Out On The Porch Swing
Sitting out on the porch swing
Skirt spread flat over rocking legs
Exhausted from the daily routine
Tired of sharing life with the dregs
Closing weary eyes to dream again
Imagining a reassuring, masculine form
Knowing this could finally be different
This could be comfort in the coming storm
Stayed Up All Night Trying To Write
Stayed up all night trying to write
I still can’t get you out of my head
Sleep didn’t come easy this night
Giving anything to only go to bed
The clock ticks past two & three
Knowing there’s nothing I’m going to find
Off dreaming of nothing, where I want to be
Another scotch to still my racing mind
Image by Florian Pircher from Pixabay
Life Should Have More Dancing
Life should have more dancing
More twirls, laughs, dips, lifts & general glee
We can make anything happen
Once she comes home with me
A dream can be a reality if she believes
I know the passionate way I would hold her
My own heart pumping infinite love
Visions of slipping that dress off her shoulders
I wish to caress her by candlelight
Looking into my eyes, asking for more
Whispering all the things she wants
Dancing close until our bodies are sore
How To Create An Individuality
How to create an individuality
Yet, contribute to society as a whole
Without falling to the socialist ideal
& abandoning your capitalistic soul
I believe in the American experiment
A dream that is & could be great
In fact, I’ve sworn to defend it forever
Duty, honor & a complicated fate
I Can’t Speak To You With An Unbuttoned Blouse
I can’t speak to you with an unbuttoned blouse
I can’t stop dreaming about what might be
My eyes drift as I’m quiet as a mouse
I can’t help but objectify all that I see
I’m trying to be your gentleman caller
My purpose was to be on an even level
But you have me squirming a little taller
Falling for you again as you’re perfectly disheveled
Counting All My Cufflinks
Counting all my cufflinks
You tied my perfect tie
Another night by the bay
Lost within the foggy sky
Seeming to float as you walk
Affection rose by a mere kiss
Evening air cool upon your soul
Never knew we could be like bliss
Your dress flailing behind
Setting down an opaque trail
Everything a dream could be
Forever wrapped by the sail
A Dreamer Of Hope In This Jaded World
A dreamer of hope in this jaded world
The cutting edge of a disinherited brigade
Avant-garde though we’re quite tame
Collecting ideas, though dusty, will never fadeManifest destiny is a crippling crutch
A mere novelty for a spoilt rich kid
Mankind doesn’t deserve such trumpery
& these militant spirits can never be hidBe proactive in your revolutions
The rhetoric tied to the strings in their back
Politicians are ideologues with ripped seams
Promising anything to increase their stacksOpinions are constitutionally protected lies
Our submissions will dictate the norm
Disguising etiquette with a 20 Pound note
Anti-conformity is another path to conform
I’m Not Your Reluctant Hero
I’m not your reluctant hero
I’m nothing along those lines
Don’t think so highly of a fool
With your lips crumbling into your wine
Please don’t raise me up to be much
I’m not what you see with your eyes
A figment of an imagination’s dream
I’m lost within these warm Florida skies
The Sand
The sand
Abrasive on my toes
The sun beating down
Peeling skin upon my nose
But I’m lucky
I live by the beach
They only can dream
The waves within my reach
Released From The Burden Of Perfection
Released from the burden of perfection
Onward to complete this chance
Soaking in my soul’s refraction
I’m not grandiose, but I’ll enhance
Ripening with a golden age
This is nothing but a jagged gleam
A smudge on the stark white page
Determined to be more than a dream
Captain Q 