Within Doctrines Of The Former Realms

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Within doctrines of the former realms
Secular atonements when you cannot reap
Our distorted narratives no longer at the helm
Parched souls shudder when you cannot sleep

Notebooks wrapped in twine, lubricating my dreams
Thinly veiled entitlements, rushing to meet the golden hour
Misplaced refugees; tugging on our heart seams
Stomp on rose colored lenses/before the vine turns sour

Standing tall amidst populism, still reading banned books
Rejecting capitalism before you win a shopping spree
Your enemy’s dilemma might be worth a look
While upholding the realization of love’s prophesy

Embracing goblets of celebratory wine & errant notes
Time to return to glory; fire dance upon wooden boats

It’s Not About Me

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It’s not about me
Focus away from my chipped soul
Fragile dreams creaked as I reach daylight
Caught in our midsummer’s lull


Drinking wine out of a teacup
This soul embarrassing when exposed
Hoping to numb our sensibilities
While we lay naked & juxtaposed

Finding Refuge In My Dreams

Finding refuge in my dreams
Traipsing through Baudelaire’s flowers
I sing a silent dirge to my soul
Tracing her petals within Summer’s shower


Caught in the currents of missteps
Former words no longer voiced
Lightness of a delicate vision
We heard the morning’s rain rejoice


Politely declining a dreadful umbrella
Walking out, always been man enough to weep
Soaked; tears all the way through
Drowning; maybe now the sunset will let me sleep

The Passing Of Time Is A Mixed Blessing

St.Albans Cathedral – Tomb of Saint Alban by Martin Addison is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0

The passing of time is a mixed blessing
Tapping your foot with your vision blurred
Doing our best, but remaining guilty
Still searching for a way to be cured

Wrapping wrists around the tarnished rosary
Youthful dreams faded from when I wanted to be a saint
My heart still ticks, albeit a little weaker
Remembering those days, but the voices now faint

I’m Not Anywhere Near Perfect

I’m not anywhere near perfect
Contrary to your fictitious notions
Examining me through a skewed lens
Though I’ve been cleansed by the ocean

I’m not what you think you want
Flawed in all the wrong places
Underlining fragility & a fractured soul
But you’re still focused on the pretty faces

I can’t explain all the improper deviations
I’m not what you’ve wished you might discover
You’ve transcribed me into a possibility
But I’m already tethered to my perpetual lover

Don’t sacrifice your dreams
For what probably won’t ever be
Hold tight to your illusions
For only then can life set you free

Waking Early Before The Morning



Waking early before the morning
Monitoring the world, as I sip my achromatic brew
The front window, my porthole to beyond
From this security, I decipher what is true

I try to formulate tangible creations
Converting inspiration into mere words
Observations from my suburban perch
Sharing stories with Poe’s bleak-hued bird

Writing down the secrets she might share
Enlivening my dreams on this quiet block
Churning thoughts into hopeful spools
In which might allow my mind to dynamically unlock

Disturbed Themes & Distant Thrombosis

Disturbed themes & distant thrombosis
A hitch in your giddy-up when it’s time for tea
Transcendental visitations
From dreams may come answers to our makeshift reality

Pouring over the brackish tomes with devotion
Gentlemen & ladies of letters; luminaries of thought
But truth doesn’t cure our limited capacities
Bare harbingers of the illiterations we’ve wrought

We’ve taken ill in our posh-marked libraries
Leaving fingerprints on memories we loved the most
We maunder through our raging debates
Knowing full well they’re all books about ghosts

Darkness creeps in on our musty resolve
Syntax prescribed with an utmost surgical query
Descending by the light of our candelabra
If we survive, we’ll be counted amidst the weary

Dreams Of Pretty Dancing Girls

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Dreams of pretty dancing girls
Tartan skirts & gold buckles on their shoes
Legs draped in such fine stockings
High kicks, but treasure out of view

The fantasy of a joyous party
Spirited music playing a bit loud
Fiddles & bagpipes; what a scene
You pulled me out of the dense crowd

Beauty of drinking black beer all day
My stature begins to slightly tilt
You quietly asked me for a light
But there’s no pockets in this kilt

Envisioning what the night might bring
Is it possible that you could be this real
Sharing a pint in a secluded corner
A second Guinness is considered a meal

Oh, Where Does Our Journey End

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Oh, where does our journey end
Or begin, as it so often might seem
Futile attempts to erase the past
The unknown details of our dreams

The open road panders to a false escape
The mere opportunity to rewrite a sojourn
Jesus perambulating with Uncle Walt
Debating the path; perchance to learn

Shaky prospects in apportioned time
Manifest destiny teases Ginsburg & Kerouac
Further roads leading to ornate wisdom
& we keep it concealed out in the back

Thoreau mocking society with his solitude
Knowing alone is the greatest we could ever be
Thoughts come to us in gentle waves
That perhaps our visions should become the sea

A reinterpretation of westward expansion
Route 66 cross-contaminating Highway 61
All roads have never led us home
Emily tempting Death with her life left undone

The growing wisdom of our consumed space
Emerson’s penning pre-revolutionary blues
Introducing our souls to unrefined grace
The Good Lord providing Her unfiltered muse

Feeble humanity; lost across the tracks
Original sin that we’ve taken on the chin
Sifting thought; we might be welcomed again
But knock off the Devil’s dust before you come in

But The Simple Fact Is Grace Is Unearned

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But the simple fact is grace is unearned
We live our lives as if we’re undeterred
Ignorant to sin & repercussions thereafter
Yet hoping for the winds to remain unstirred

Truth & love are bound to our dreams
The inconvenient reality of the harsh pain of day
Trudging through our irksome tasks
Bright light stuns us into a stuttering delay

Fall to your knees in complete repentance
Submit your soul to the warmth of His sunshine
Release the burden of mortal expectation
Forever embrace the perfect love of the Divine

Transparent Dresses Hanging In The Mud Room

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Transparent dresses hanging in the mud room
Saran-Wrapped for mild protection
Eyes closed to foreign tales
Tempered thoughts of stifled affection

Painted prose with regurgitated eyes
Our dreams left choking on the floor
Scribbling beliefs with thick gouges
Manufactured truth with cries of Nevermore

Redundant weight of classical heroes
Forcing us into bastardized Groupthink
Yet my mind still wanders to her opaque passion
Chasing her dragon with endless ink

Liberation Granted By The Morning Alarm

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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

Looking For A New Sunshine

Looking for a new sunshine
Eclipses as the morning grows
Coffee slowly loses its warmth
The way only the fatigued might know


Sleepless nights convort to visions
Dreams well placed into our eyes
Caffeine not enough to shake souls
Waking to these cotton candy skies


Spinning my empty cup on the table
Attempts at any fully formed thought
My mind completely wiped clean
I spy my woman’s naked form; damn she’s hot!

Middle Of the Ocean Blues

Paddling around the remotest parts
Looking for hope where there’s no merriment
Our souls evaporating in the open air
Put through this vise of a social experiment
Living out here minus the love & support
There’s only so much a man can endure
Mother Nature whirling up the darkest storms
Blowing away my dreams I’m terribly sure

Hey, hey, hey, pretty mama
Please send me some news
It’s lonesome out here
I’ve got the middle of the ocean blues

Thankful for a little spit of dry land
Feeling a bit wobbly & out of sorts
Having a nice cold one under a palm
Time to recharge my batteries in this port
Soon enough, we’ll be back floating
Feeling the Earth’s rotation upon this burn
Long days of sweat & toiling work
Wearing my body out before I return

Hey, hey, hey, pretty mama
Please send me some news
It’s lonesome out here
I’ve got the middle of the ocean blues

I’m Tired Of All The Mouthpieces & Talking Heads

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I’m tired of all the mouthpieces & talking heads
I don’t trust anything on the network news
Congress & corporations are intertwined
Aimed at denying our dreams if they could choose
But I’m not going to buy into their systems
I’m not going to line up for them to call me by name
We have to figure out a better way
Or we’ll all be taken under by institutionalized shame
I don’t want to live in a world propelled by evil
I believe this hateful environment is only getting hotter
Can we not treat our neighbors as equals
What kind of world are we leaving for our daughters?

I’m So Happy, I’ll Dance You A Jig

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I’m so happy, I’ll dance you a jig
With my eyes open, these dreams so big

Still living this life with childhood eyes
Truth always revealed as the tears dried

Sailing ships, battered by wind & storm
Ignoring reason, logic & the accepted norm

Life gets hectic, it’s often a terrible mess
Never grow up, push past into happiness

Fairy influence & the magic it might behold
Let us go now & create a story that’s yet untold

Where love & insanity will always meet
The freedom within our wild heartbeats

Close your eyes, finding something lost
Your favorite memory forever embossed

Tossed into slumbering pages of a book
Captive audiences held by Captain Hook

The golden cutlass, the prize of his plunder
Sharp, but wit marks our Boy Wonder

The best things in life are never planned
Without remorse, we return to Neverland

A Creative Declaration Of Independence

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A creative declaration of independence
We broadcast we won’t go quietly without a fight
Announcing to this fractured society
That, together, we’ll destroy all that isn’t right

The artists & dreamers of the world annex the ether
We claim control of the world’s grasp of our dreams
Through love & imagination, we’ll find a true peace
& we’ll forever disintegrate your hate, right at the seams

While We Were Off Sleeping

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While we were off sleeping
The rains whipped themselves up in a squall
The flowers rose from their dormant stature
We were left to discover what never was at all
Stripped away our delinquent delusions
Forced to find the truth of this precipitation
Life is a fragile balance of our dreams
Love draws us close while fusing our imaginations

 

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I Have Stacks Of Unused Paper

I have stacks of unused paper
Like the untouched dreams in my head
We all have the forks in our roads
But often take the easier path instead

So many distractions in my way
To give in to them would leave me mundane
I don’t wish to live an ordinary existence
I’d much rather push the envelope & become insane

The results always lead to the same ending
We’ll all wander into death before we’re through
I don’t want to take a straight line to get there
I hope to zig, all the while forever holding onto you

Strapped Into A Mourning Gown

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Strapped into a mourning gown
That might survive our winter garden
Rebasing all these dreams
This predicament has begun to harden;
I beg your pardon
Slowly peeling off your layers
Caught us in a lightning storm
Feeling excited electricity
Between our adrenalized forms
Standing naked before the darkness
Illuminated only by midnight flashes
Perfection within a moment
Emotion dripping from your eyelashes

Unfolding Broken Dreams

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Unfolding broken dreams
The distant & diluted flow
Our hopeless choices astound
The truth? We still don’t know

But we can never give up
Clinging to the last of our visions
Memories cultivated on dark nights
Leaving us exposed with obvious incisions

How do you translate a morning
When your soul bears undiagnosed pain
Scars from a life well lived
For in the end, disillusioned cannot remain

A Woman Not Marked

A woman not marked, boiled in thought
Slowly escaping melancholy with each sip
Sitting, staring out her kitchen window
Contentious dreams emitted from parted lips

Coffee can stimulate a bored mind
The house to be prepared for a festive banquet
A morose morning, lingering in the cool air
Providing a bounty for the Heavenly set

Wading Through Seawater In Your Dress

Wading through seawater in your dress
Clinging to your delicious curves
Exposing the universe to me
Standing at attention; all my nerves

You’re the anomaly of this world
Virtue & flexibility of our seams
Wrap your legs around my mind
Allow me the most sensuous dreams

Never to rejoin this delinquent society
Let me lead you with hands on your hips
To paradise removed from their hate
With nothing but flirtation on your lips

Gimme sass with a shake of that ass
Raising toasts to love in a crystal chalice
Our passion overflows conventional wisdom
Since I’m directed by the sapience of my phallus

I promise to hold you close all our days
& to occasionally provide your kind of cuddle
But I’ll always do that thing you like so well
The one that never fails to leave you in a puddle

Unplugging From The Mainframe

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Unplugging from the mainframe
Remaining forever off the grid
Don’t need their connections
Don’t know if we ever truly did

The final tragic hero of a modern culture
The soul survivor of a discarded revolution
Histories & experience outside the norm
Dreams of freedom with divine attribution

Dealing with the conceits of perfection
The concepts of loneliness & betrayal
This world isn’t what we were promised
Token hints lost behind a fractured veil

The answers are hidden beyond this life
It may look bleak, but don’t you fret
We have the Source of Light
& they’re still riding that ol’ dialup internet

Walking Down The Street On All Saints’ Day

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Walking down the street on All Saints’ Day
Victrolas on display at the corner store
A flirtatious greeting with the local beauty
She always smiles, but never asks for more
You’ve created another aura within her
Casting her as red-blooded in your pulp fantasy
A polite lady with those vicious high heels
Mental interludes without consent, it seems to me
Take your dreams & exit stage left
You tried to court & failed, life’s not fair
Let a true gentleman whisper elegant words
She’ll open up her passion, exposing her silky pair

Sheep In Wolves’ Clothing

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Sheep in wolves’ clothing
Alone in the natural spirals
A delicate peace teetering
In a time when hate’s gone viral
A profound wilderness
With the Shepherd long forsaken
Truth & reason at risk
With Faith’s foundations shaken
Does compassion still exist
Love faltering/dreams now monochrome
The Devil removing his mask
Once he’s comfortably at home

Those Words Come To Me In Those Coffee Dreams

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Those words come to me in those coffee dreams
A spontaneous marvel of literary delight
There’s a difference between manufactured beauty
& a real beauty, founded by nature’s authentic right
But I can’t explain the nuances with the definition
I’m not one to judge such subjective whims
Focusing on my own qualms & dangling thoughts
Let us sit, pour another cup, let’s solve these problems
I’m not bothered by such trifling issues as rules
Let them worry about my intents & being misconstrued
I let my chosen pages explain all I’m willing to
I’m more concerned if that pot has finished it’s brew

Where Is My Absurd Little Coffee This Morn

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Where is my absurd little coffee this morn
Claiming to be something or other
I rise slower, wiping Pixie Dust from my eyes
Never forget the dreams they try to smother
My gorgeous blonde lady sleeping peacefully
Our love burnt brightly into a passionate fire
I stretch my legs & smile at a job well done
She’ll slumber for a while, for she’s kind of tired

The Carcasses Of Inspiration

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The carcasses of inspiration
Wine glasses with Burgundy residue
Speaking to late nights & early mornings
Scribbles in the margin on the follow through
Feeling parched as I wake
Noticing your lipstick stains
Upon the rim of the glass
Reminding me of the dreams that remain
Bleary eyed, drinking the coffee grounds
Searching for a fate within the dregs
Fumbling over these typewriter keys
Lightheaded when I see your naked legs
Your smile is a distraction
But you pop a button & then one more
I’m at your complete mercy
Once the nightgown hits the floor

Image by TastyCinnamonn from Pixabay

 

I’m Drinking Scalding Coffee

I’m drinking scalding coffee

To shake me from these dreams

I’m taking the hottest shower

The burn revives from the steam

This warmth spreads deeper yet

Cohering to my restless bones

After another cup of darkness

Maybe then I won’t feel so alone

The Infinity Of Love

The infinity of love
The entirety of a single breath
Odd footnotes to a shapely evening
After kissing the feet of Sister MaryBeth
The important ones are those you forgot
Distant notes too unbelievable to remember
But there’s a gravity to these infatuations
Still wearing Fair Isle, though it no longer December
Our dreams aren’t always tangible by birth
Effort & perseverance required, but you can’t relate
You won’t know it, but it’s worth the heartache
We’re doomed to live our days as humans & it’s called fate

The Sultan Of Suntan

 

The sultan of suntan
Smelling like oils & lotions
Sand clinging to your soul
Cleansed by the water’s motion
Purged of evaporating dreams
We can focus on existence
Wringing it all out
At love’s steadfast insistence
All secrets illuminated
Nothing remains within
Cover of cheap shades
Truth permeates the skin

We Kept Dancing

We kept dancing

Long after the record stopped spinning

On the verge of your dreams

The fire’s low; the air is thinning

What happens tomorrow 

& long after we’ve awoken

Will these dreams ever return

Will this spell be forever broken

Low Evenings Persistently Intrude

Low evenings persistently intrude

Fancy parties & sensitive souls

Facades draped in lush decor

Strong mixed spirits don’t leave you full

Trashy nights with unseen acquaintances

Low cut blouses & nylon dreams in heels

Witnessing dancers locked in solitude

Push away the day

We don’t need another slow reveal

Please Don’t Question My Reality

Please don’t question my reality

You’re pandering to a common goal

I’m eradicating acute boredom

Freeing another fractured soul

Redefining fantasy on a personal level

The subtle witness under the veil

Finding happiness outside expectation

Wishing our dreams weren’t so frail

Creep Villanelle 

Resisting the urge to flatter
Never taking such a leap
Beauty the heart of the matter
Ignored in your idle chatter
Left feeling like a forgotten heap
Resisting the urge to flatter
The thoughts come, but soon scatter
Keeping me from peaceful sleep
Beauty the heart of the matter
Love served on a silver platter
A tarnished memory much too cheap
Resisting the urge to flatter
My soul simmered to splatter
But our dreams aren’t that deep
Beauty the heart of the matter
Your image makes me all a-patter
Never wanting to come off as a creep
Resisting the urge to flatter
Beauty the heart of the matter