Events Like Watergate Come & Go

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Events like Watergate come & go
Revealing to the public our national shame
We no longer trust the government
Any effort to deceive us is just plain lame

Our capitalistic masters heading for disaster
These pathetically absurd
Creating content for the algorithm
But they don’t care about our words

Dr. Strangeglove is plotting
The folly of the Pentagon staff
Making old ladies weep
When only evil men can still laugh

Time keeps ticking, even when we hurt
Old white men will begin to campaign
Dropping promises like forgotten love notes
The people cast aside once they pop champagne

You ask me frivolous questions
Who shall I vote for
I don’t know who cares
But, I’m rooting for no one in 2024

Wet Sunday Mornings

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Wet Sunday mornings
Grass still damp from the rain
Fresh air still cool to the touch
Rising without a hint of pain

Voluptuary visions upon a treasured bond
Hoping we might become bosom buddies
Remotely fond of the Bon Vivant’s taste
When I proposed to you in the study

My parochial quips; unacceptable in polite society
Profane & unprintable odes to her formidable posterior
Writing what catches my mind’s eye
I can’t help it if my motives might be ulterior

Vice & folly are complimentary rectitudes
But please stop staring at the lady’s chest
There’s only so much to explain away
& no one cares the origin of your Preppy crest

Tell me what constitutes good head
With my mind clinging to her curves
These dreams; had their own Silicone Valley
Yet, when she speaks I’m a pile of nerves

Boxing Day is the day for cunninglingus
Cauliflower ear from her thighs
Witnessing nature’s perfect curvature
Nonperishable lust eschews the dandy’s lie

Vanity is fundamentally unstable
Draping you in silks & laces so gaudy
New souls full of an easy virtue
Just know, how badly I want your bawdy

I’m Not A Joiner

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I’m not a joiner
I’m deliberately choosing not to join your group
Breaking free of these inconsistencies
Past sins & missteps on an endless loop

I inherently distrust any gathering of people
Seeing we’re doomed to live out the follies of youth
We lost our way & never came back
Now spurned forward by the allure of truth

Dissidents Wishing For Anarchy

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Dissidents wishing for anarchy
Amid the noise at the city’s edge
Marching toward the inevitable
With blinders afixed & a solemn pledge

Roustabouts & preachers agreeing before light
Yet the jury will always cry out for more
Cannot tolerate the president’s folly
The juxtaposition of hippies going to war

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

 

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Fates & Folly Everlasting

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Fates & folly everlasting
Without courage to proceed
A beautiful lady
Measuring thought & deed

But she just wanted my heart
No matter the complications
I couldn’t view the reality
Of her love without reservations

III. Chiseled Words

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Chiseled words are never all that permanent
For we can be reincarnated as a muse
Awakening creation scribbled in the margins
Foundational folly that we might instinctively use

Seeking Out Freedoms

Seeking out the freedoms

But where is the wisdom our follies have made

Washed away with the retreating tides

Now we bask out in the cover of foliage’s shade

I’m sure nature leads us to the answer

The tempted isolation of introverts

The paused legacy of our discontent

Posterity gently tugging at her miniskirt

Tilted scales of Justice – with her hem unraveling

The overture that rises where prudence fails

Our overwrought, sparse conjecture

& leaves us at the darker side of the fairytale