I want to write But I don’t have the words So I watch the ink seep silently I know you’re thinking I’m absurd
So many empty notebooks To fill with small little doodles & swirls Intimidated by the stark whiteness I don’t know how to create lasting worlds
Pondering & delving into thought Present in my feelings with offerings to burn Slowly churning my fickle imagination In the hopes a bit of creativity might return
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
Crafting words & dilapidated feelings Withdrawing the essence of existence Distilling the meaning of love’s texture To stir my soul to our mutual subsistence
Break free from all your interlocking rules Unsatisfactory way to start your day Too fatigued to suffer gladly these fools Waiting for a sunrise in an errant way
I’d rather return to my bed, closing my eyes No other way to explain how I’m so damn tired Can’t get my life together after all these tries My number always called, but I’m feeling expired
What will it take for me to finally see Time to stumble forward for that pot of coffee
Waking up, smelling of love Sore & stiff from our imaginations A late night of enlightened feelings Letting moans be our primal narration
Accompanied by jazzy tones & chilled wine Perfect decorations for our eternal passions By any means necessary to ensure That our mutual desire never goes our of fashion
I’m tired of being so dry
In need of an outlet to release my brain
Creativity gone; leaving me stagnant
Building into a wreck of anxiety & pain
My thoughts stunted by vapid feelings
Finding myself too tense, filled with stress
Needing to drink from restorative waters
Like those I found under her dress
The Winter winds keep us bundled Sending us shivering & reeling Dreams of a warm drink by the hearth Caught up in those distant feelings
Our checklists remain unchecked Hustle, bustle & we’re forever hurried There must be a moment to calm ourselves To enjoy coffee in the midst of this flurry
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
Two lost souls, like beachcombers Looking for lost things; love & such Distant memories of happiness The feeling of being needed; a touch Nestled within a Siren’s lullaby We never could grasp our fate Shrugging off the daily struggles Our only choice is to circumnavigate
I’m not an artist, just a guy with a pen Upon a lonely night, I started to write I jotted down some rhymes for me Teen angst channeled into the light I’ve never looked back to think I just keep writing over the decades I don’t edit my feelings nor judge you Purely an attempt for the soul not to fade
Green mermaid lady I’m still in love with you Always been good to me My affections are overdue Dimly lit stages for hire Writing out these feelings Jittered & confused tonight Staggered & now kneeling Inspiration to keep on going Confidence in my finer words Blocked out memories past Forgetting what was heard Know where you want to be So I’ve come back to you Capitalism be damned! Pour me something new
“Women are always true, even in the midst of their greatest falsities, because they are always influenced by some natural feeling.”
― Honoré de Balzac, Père Goriot