Not Content With Common Thought

Photo by Greta Hoffman on Pexels.com

Not content with common thought
Moved to feeling in the handwritten form
Translating the Siren’s voice
Higher levels of not tolerating the norm

We need to break free of these doldrums
Return to where truth spoken with the quill
Compassion in community not a fragmented society
Where we’re doomed to remain at a standstill

I’m Seeking A Truth

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

I’m seeking a truth within these fragmented words
My thoughts won’t cooperate with how my fingers move
Typing on this old handmedown machine to transform
My mundane existence into a magical, deliberate groove

I am not afraid to expose the flesh of a wilted soul
There are no heroes in these parts, just broken misanthropes
Internalizing the segmented society & all the villains
Returning to coffee so black the void regains precious hope

It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn

It was a one-eyed kind of morn
With evening’s festivities going awry
I scrawled out all I could remember
Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy

Slight images of a lovely form
Olfactory sparks upon my brain
Sketching the party’s guest list
But no new faces could remain

Racking my skull for a proper memory
Writing down every & each detail
Compiling a list to rediscover
I’m trying to think, but it’s to no avail

A faceless gown with affectionate gloves
Somehow my mind is able to recall
Cognitive fragments begin to linger
Clouded out by last night’s alcohol

Scenes slowly begin to return
I believe we’re out on the dance floor
An embrace of smoldering desire
Yet I couldn’t figure out any more

Scraps of notes spread before me
No identity to place upon the truth
Scant reason to be shy in my search
Basking in honesty of my lapsed youth

Cobwebs have been sparsely lifted
Won’t think of her in the past tense
Her ghostly touch encourages me yet
We shall meet again, I firmly sense

To hold her with determined spirit
Seems fantastical at this sad rate
Yet she’s left fingerprints upon me
Remaining until I succumb to my fate

Plastering The Interweb With Fragmented Thought

Plastering the interweb with fragmented thought Cultivating an insane kind of fame Convincing an illiterate society That you’re more than just a silly name Penning out frivolously piddly odes Basking in the lack of their attention span Trying so hard to be cool, plus Your slams make me not want to give a damn The barely legible equivalent of an Insta-model Don’t you know, writers write & speakers squeak A farce played out in bits & bytes Preying on the vapid, the stupid & the weak You’ve grown your hipster beard You fancy yourself as suave & dapper But I know your dirty little secret That you’re no PaRappa the Rapper

Collecting Fragments Of Free Thought

Collecting fragments of free thought
The missing pieces of a discarded word
Unknown & forgotten loves in innerspace
Unfortunately time reduces us by a third

Intellectuals hunkered down – protecting wisdom
Throwing bones, sharpening knives & wit
Critical theories to counteract
The cultural elite reminding me I ain’t shit

But I continue down my solitary path
Creating worlds out of the persistently intangible
I return- baring all for artistic intent
But alas this vessel’s no Michelangelo

We’re Allowing The Modern World To Dwindle

hans-boodt-1006004

We’re allowing the modern world to dwindle

We’ve neglected love & now slowly it dies

Crashing back to from where it came

We’ve messed up this most recent of our tries

A fragmented society in this world of hate

Our streets filled with torch bearing vigilantes 

But I’m choosing compassion & joy

I’d rather chase you around in your scanties

Junky Little Notes

Photo by brotiN biswaS on Pexels.com

Junky little notes
Throwaway lines on the postmodern stage
Cultural fragmentation in empty streets
Truth whittled away on an evaporating page


The disillusionment of an appropriated life
While the world’s on fire; downright ablaze
The American Dream sold off to the lowest bidder
Feeling dissociative in these recent raucous days


Our dishonest & unaccountable government
Are trying to sell you their uninspired vision
Trying to sway your vote by gripping your throat
But their cockamamy pleas will be met with only derision