A Cup Of Coffee Sounds Mighty Nice

A cup of coffee sounds mighty nice
Talking away hours in the sun
Warmth after this long cold winter
Experiences overall count as one

Coming times to start all over
No need to hesitate or soften your walk
Forced feelings fall a little short
Take time & measure when you talk

A friend is a friend forever
But be weary as not to injure
Broken hearts never quite heal
Through a loving soul will always endure

Running Headlong Into Winter

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

Speak Up, Stand Up; Announce To The World

Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko on Pexels.com

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

Transparent Dresses Hanging In The Mud Room

Photo by Fidel Hajj on Pexels.com

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

She Wore White To The Hanging

girl-504636.jpg

She wore white to the hanging
Fingers smudged from setting the patriarchy to burn
She wore a guilty smile
For they would never ever seem to learn

By her beauty, they were always distracted
But her brains they never could comprehend
Once the fire went viral
They wished they could call her a friend

They picked such an angelic foe
Yet kept her bound by tradition & canon & law
But you can never chain ideas down
Imprudence by the state was the final straw

Continual pandering as a cultural trait
Overwrought force; their idea as the solution
The spark still smoldering in her eyes
Never again the victim, she’s the whole damn revolution

*This is a reaction to rewatching the movie Cat Ballou with modern eyes.

Let Us Survive These Dog Days

Photo by Darren Lawrence on Pexels.com

Let us survive these dog days
The warmth still rising up to a boil
I’d rather be walking down the beach
But I’m forced to relentlessly toil

I wish to be holding your hand
As we walk in the evening’s glow
Soft words filled with eternal promises
For your love is the last I’ll ever know

Typing, Hacking, Thinking – Smokin’ Hot

Typing, hacking, thinking – Smokin’ hot
Typing your best to empty all thought

Pouring your soul into force upon the keys
Your woman walks past with a dress above the knees

Now you can’t think or type or stammer straight
The hell with with deadlines – this one’s gonna be late

You pray to the spirits of procastrination or whatever you think of
Burn this project right now, sacrifice it in the name of love

Forgotten In The Ether

Photo by Soly Moses on Pexels.com

Forgotten in the ether
Against the stones on the shore
Fatigue hitting hard at sunrise
Before the day might restore

You cannot outlive a memory
Our fates left to a diminished chance
Bound to the sea by luck or force
Drifting silently with suspicious circumstance

Dog eared postcards & other totems
Words from home to quench the tide
Meandering scribbles in the margin
Dreading the prospect of another ride

While We Were Off Sleeping

recco-4243775_1920.jpg

 

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

 

Image by dexmac from Pixabay

The Warmth Of The First Coast Has Returned

key-west-1639882_1920.jpg

The warmth of the First Coast has returned

But the ocean haze is beating out the sunshine

Sitting on the boardwalk, cold drink in my hand

My love reading me the pages of ‘Dandelion Wine’

Summer hasn’t arrived with its full force

In the breeze, the air cool, yet warm for March

Sideways glances, thinking of her last night

Her beauty mine to behold, her back perfectly arched

Watching children playing in the surf

These quiet beaches surrounded by thick mangroves

A wilderness of paradise’s perfect setting

Your whole life waiting for such an idyllic trove

Where there’s no concern for silly tan lines

The sunshine kissing our bodies like a magic wand

Getting lost, leaving unmentionables on the line

Removed from sight, her underbrush covered by palm fronds

It’s different once your cross into the sand 

Slow your mind, pour a frozen drink & a slice of Key Lime

Colors, flavors & appetites are all enhanced down here

Mother Nature’s sun, precise remedy for the Wintertime

Image by Paul Brennan from Pixabay

Rubbing Their Fingers Over The Stereo Knob

Photo by Victoria Borodinova on Pexels.com

Rubbing their fingers over the stereo knob
The frequencies distorted on the airwaves
Kings of the new world & thus apocalyptic
Searching for something more pragmatic to crave

These technocrats with no concept of reality
Tasking – without offering an alternate fate
Demanding citizens for homages to be digital
With no power to control – or else we attenuate

Words of peace have the chance to amplify
Even when we’re feeling out of time/out of sync
Don’t need their fiber optic lies to survive
A blind man loses all when forced to blink

Tapping into a passion without any circuits
Our transistors are live; we’re lovers thus discrete
There’s no stopping us when their signal’s weak
There’s nothing but fire & sparks when our wires meet

This life is forever altered now we’re here
Do not attempt to adjust the squelch
You’re listening to Radio Free America
Standing proud & robust like Raquel Welch

I. Unlocking Our Shackles

Unlocking our shackles
Leading us out, presented as a mannequin
This is our coming out – an introduction
Forced grins are as useless as foreskins

Wishing we were polite in this instructional society
They have us strutting around as a debutante
The promise of a honeymoon for lewd servants
But these demons only allow us to unseemly haunt

Image by Markus Spiske from Pixabay