I’m working on a deliberate sound
Tracking a feeling I’ve never found
Filtering & distilling a final abstract
Like passion was some sort of artifact
They’re still searching for their good luck
Let us dance holes in our old school Chucks
No need to worry about their errant thoughts
Let me strip naked – for I’m kinda hot
With the beat down to your toes
Secrets of my soul, I’ll cautiously expose
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
Speak up, stand up; announce to the world
Spread the news of truth’s availability
Don’t be shy; we’re all in this together
Easy now, no need to hate on my virility
I honestly distrust anything popular or sacred
Passing them by & allow them to hide
I have to figure it out 20 years later
Force-filtered through life & time & tide
Opposing magnetic poles claiming Orwell
Both deluding themselves he’s their saint
But he was human & all the related flaws
His divinity seems a little too quaint
We need people with a firm, decisive choice
No interest in your ineffectual, intellectual porn
There’s no time for pussyfooting around
We must find the truth & feed it to the bullhorn
Unfettered and unlined
Drinking coffee deep into the night
Unfiltered; seeing life as it truly is
Feeling raw, returning to my machine to write
I’m pulling the strings, creating fictional tales
A life breathing under these mechanical keys
Slowly coming to the surface
A birth in words, triumph in moment’s like these
She was enraged
But it was merely an aesthetic
Undiagnosed shakedown calamity
Her stare leaving me cold & pathetic
She asked me why I was a Pisces
I told her I used to drink like a fish
Though attempts at humor fell flat
I was awkward; she was such a dish
I’m not as spectacular as I may seem
Age filters vexing characteristics instead
She looked upon me with curious disdain
Tangibly conceding to the voices in my head
Dreary days upon the quiet streets
Our dreams rising in the partial mist
Absorbing unfiltered words & sentiment
Those passionate hours forever kissed
Flaming sauerkraut stud muffin
A condensed version of radial glory
Knowing full well where life begins
The translucent strands of our story
Calculating Parisian jazz statistics
Veiled through the rummy, filtered grime
Distance equals an unfettered stump
When satisfaction measured in Lycra & time
Logbooks; surmounting the tepid schedule
All aboard the mourning run of the downtown train
Sunrise catching your weary eyes
Early summer rain prepositions our inaugural hurricane
*I was bogged down and couldn’t write so I just started writing nonsense until I was inspired to create something. It is what it is.
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
Captain Q 