Good morning
Light stretching & taking hold
Too long under these covers
Happenchance favors the bold
Time to spread these sea legs
Arching my back & flexing my arms
It feels good to still be alive
We’ve shuttered close, yet escaped any harm
Rainy days along the intercoastal
Long mornings lead to stressful nights
The last cold hours before Spring
Reading quickly by the escaping light
I don’t speak of the dark times
For I don’t know how to describe
Numb from the constant rows
Beating my head against the tide
All the while, I’m trying to keep in step
Attempts to parry everything exterior
Concurrent remedies do nothing
Resulting in the residue of the inferior
Intentions to escape these trappings
Quietly absconding along the coast
Ambitions to enliven another day
& thus a creation of a ghost
Emerging from the cool waters
Morning swim to ease my mind
My soul’s been hacked
I needed an escape to unwind
Society is advancing
But merely on the people’s rights
Media’s a crooked lapdog
We’re doomed if we refuse to unite
I need to escape the city structure
Retreat to a cabin up in the woods
Resolving quiet bouts of sensory overload
No longer at peace in these neighborhoods
Trying to exist without the constant ruckus
I may be no more than a sheep in wolf’s clothing
But I know I need something a bit tamer
To quell these times of depreciation & self-loathing
Times get weird; we must remain in our morals
Eventually we must draw a line in the sand
& to misquote the philosopher Chris Rock
I’m not saying the Unabomber was right, but I understand
Sundown brings on the reduced heat
Wind whispering to sail with the tides
Vapors tread quietly upon the feet
Decisions enter & thoroughly abide
Lonely bird settles down on the rails
Experience brings on a sullen glow
We cannot escape when life fails
Currents grip & provide the undertow
Look what the tide brought in
Floating back in the summer sea
Standing forthright upon the shore
Escaped, though equally free
Our lives governed by morality
No matter the direction of the days
Finding solitude a noble quest
Amidst the breeze, the palms sway
Running headlong into the woods
With your meaningless tropes
Escaping any notion of your gaze
Slipping confinement & your stubborn hope
Never wished to be dubbed “wild”
At least not in your repetitive sense
Feeling numb to your expectations
Not remaining to hear your bland defense
Each step leads me further on my trek
Compounding the rules I unwittingly defied
Down the trail & away from your excuses
I didn’t listen, but I’m sure it’s all justified
Its been a long, hard ride
To get where we’ve found
Bumps & bruises are everywhere
Keeping our souls on solid ground
There’s a small humility
Hidden within the secrets of Spring rain
Heartache never fully goes away
But what made you take a Westbound train
There’s no escaping the pressures
But by embracing love we’ll be able to cope
Turn towards the hearts that beat for you
Open your eyes, know there’s always a semblance of hope
Running headlong into Winter
The cold air forced inside my lungs
Stopping abruptly at the end of the dock
Arms out, catching a snowflake on my tongue
I ran out of land again
Isolated out here with my soul about to freeze
There’s no place left to escape
Shanghai’d again! My fate lies on the high seas
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
Taking a moment to pause
Allowing all the colors & sounds
To penetrate my senses
I’m going to miss being around
Soon to return to the sea
Riding waves with crushing might
Darkness closing in on me
Holding fast to escape the night
*not really going back to sea. just remembering the feeling of writing this before the holidays a few years ago
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
Trembling coins in my pocket
A disconnect in time; rapidly repulse
Our words twisted soon after spoken
Inferiority complex became our natural impulse
But we knew life could be far greater
If we could only escape our own fates
Get out of our own disturbed minds
& embrace the love that patiently awaits
Crawling away from sudden shores
Locked away in anterior rooms
Sunlit beauties try to remain pale
Complexities of intimate bedgloom
Modern mermaids express themselves
Repelled by their former clamshell
Their silence betrayed the insane
Meeting up again behind the bandshell
Eastbound Portola around the curve
Writing hard to retain your shape
Lost in the Inner Sunset
Catching the N Judah to escape
Abandoned Nylons
I felt a growing need to get out into the woods, to leave behind the city and society. We do not need all this nonsense. We, as a people, need to find our roots and return to where God intended us to be. It feels natural to be away from a manmade existence. We don’t need every path paved. It is well within the realm of acceptance to veer off the beaten path and explore this world that lies beyond the limits of comfort. You don’t need wi-fi hotspots at all points of your day. Drop your phone and car keys off. You are past due for a date with your old hiking boots.
I had to get out. This was the moment.
“Miss Beverly? Ma’am?“ My secretary called after me as I walked out of my office. I just kept walking. I wasn’t going back. I couldn’t.
This formal attire was smothering me. I had to get out to the fresh air and trees. I had to get away from this city. I reached up and clutched at my throat, pulling my scarf down and out of my way. My heart started beating faster when I heard the Jeep chirp and flash its lights as it unlocked. I like to be self-sufficient. They were forcing my hand. I had to do it.
I was doing something I shouldn’t be. I whipped the scarf from around my neck and let it get caught up in the air as I threw it out the window. The buttons popped off when I ripped the shirt open, shooting in every direction. I had to get air. I had to get a chance to breathe purity once again. My life was polluted with pre-packaged meals and stop and go traffic. I am not of the mindset that we were ever meant to be stacked upon each other the way we are these days.
I needed my own space. I needed room to stretch out my arms and feel cleanliness of nature. I sped away as fast as I could. It felt good to be racing out of the city.
The buildings and exit signs were a blur behind me. I needed to find a place where I wasn’t closed in. I wanted to be away from a desk, responsibility and inauthentic expectations. All that was living a lie to me. I didn’t want to be that person any longer. I knew no other way out.
I made it out of the city. I drove fast without hesitation. I-95 is a long road with a lot of possibilities. It made me smile thinking of all of them.
I pulled over to a small gas station where the 95 hit 17. While I was putting gas in the tank, I took the top off of the Jeep. It wasn’t doing me any good. I wanted the wind in my hair.
I went inside the minimart to grab some supplies. I loaded up the basket with a couple bottles of wine, some cheese and a cheap pair of flip flops.
A teenage boy was working the counter. His name tag said his name was Bobby. I asked Bobby if he knew a good place to get away and take a few days off. Without taking his eyes off me, he pulled down a business card and handed it to me.
Bobby said his aunt rented the house out. It was right on the beach of Jekyll Island. I merely had to continue down 17 to the 520 and straight to the beach. That sounded simple enough to me.
I thanked him; flashed him a smile and a wink. He blushed. As I was walking out to the Jeep, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window. My shirt was still wide open, revealing my bra. I stopped short, trying to decide if I should be embarrassed. I smiled and continued on my way.
I tucked the bags behind my seat. I pulled off my heels, throwing them back there, too. Then I shimmied out of my nylons. I threw them on the passenger seat.
As I pulled out of that gas station, the wind took the nylons away. I watched them fly into the air. I pressed the accelerator.
Captain Q 