Unplugging from the mainframe Remaining forever off the grid Don’t need their connections Don’t know if we ever truly did
The final tragic hero of a modern culture The soul survivor of a discarded revolution Histories & experience outside the norm Dreams of freedom with divine attribution
Dealing with the conceits of perfection The concepts of loneliness & betrayal This world isn’t what we were promised Token hints lost behind a fractured veil
The answers are hidden beyond this life It may look bleak, but don’t you fret We have the Source of Light & they’re still riding that ol’ dialup internet
Drinking with the Harbormaster
Regurgitating things only the ocean knows
Freedom can’t be created any faster
Beauty survives rarely as wild as the rose
I have no right to her intentions No claim on her attention The pure choice of how to be She always was & should be free Autonomy of the soul, if we forgot to mention
Not to keep returning the subject to myself
But there are certain truths I must understand
I’m no one special, a mere footnote
A history to be written, though not as planned
Dreams & hopes that never came to be
A rakish poet nor grizzled old typesetter
Through the years & false daily realities
It is inexplicable the mundane became better
So I find myself with a specific freedom
To be able to move without any sort of cosmic retort
For I have faith in love, fate & ultimate grace
Allowed to live without any innate need to stop short
Dodging trains with the Lost Boys Feeling free in the midnight hour Nothing can keep us on the ground Laughing in faces of those who wish us dour Freedom begins with your own soul No matter the toilsome tasks or nautical miles I’ll smirk & continue to play For there’s a revolution within my smile
I’m not anywhere near perfect
Contrary to your fictitious notions
Examining me through a skewed lens
Though I’ve been cleansed by the ocean
I’m not what you think you want
Flawed in all the wrong places
Underlining fragility & a fractured soul
But you’re still focused on the pretty faces
I can’t explain all the improper deviations
I’m not what you’ve wished you might discover
You’ve transcribed me into a possibility
But I’m already tethered to my perpetual lover
Don’t sacrifice your dreams
For what probably won’t ever be
Hold tight to your illusions
For only then can life set you free
I’m still a child I don’t care for your haughty tones Such an upright citizen Plugged your soul into your phone
But I’m still telling stories of Neverland I’m the Pan – crowing wild & free Not living within your societal realms I wouldn’t want you to forget I’m forever me
The freedom to move is vastly underrated The need to take refuge in the open air Release yourself from these modern bonds Get back out there if you still care
I reject their basic version of normalcy Those rules don’t apply as formulated Reality was never calibrated for us Mere common folk to be granulated
Refusing to remain quiet is necessary Return to nature – turn off that broadcast Be elusive, for they’re coming for you You’re necessary as long as you have a vote to cast
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
I’m not going to forfeit this life
Grasping at reality along the way
Running headlong into risk
Finding out what the youth have to say
Nurturing growth & development
Truth remains after their neglected lie
Sweat falls from my brow – a start
We can’t let the dream of freedom die
The winter is too warm
But it’s too cold for tanlines
The beach not quite deserted
But I think that’s just fine
I could use some freedom
But you’d just call that semantics
Splitting hairs when I’d rather
Be engaging you in some bedroom antics
You’d blush and slap my cheek
But that’s mere foreplay to me
I went kissing a little too low
That’s when you spilt your daiquiri
I am a seeker of truth In the darker moments of existence When our souls are hurt & freedom is at an unfathomable distance
Broken frameworks & deep mistrust Will you take me home after I’ve done my bit Honesty is the only way we’ll survive Open & earnest with the unblemished truth of it
Looking past clear stars Each universe has a split seam Stretch your fingers wide Leave behind your American Dream Be easy & think yourself free Our minds hold us back in chains Silently slip through the hole Never following you with their pains
The indoctrination is complete They molded you just right Removing the will to struggle Stripping you of the desire to fight You work for them these days A concise, common goal Gone are the thoughts of freedom An iron fist smashing your soul No longer an individual Lost all your character traits You belong to the system now Let your bones fill with hate
I felt a growing need to get out into the woods, to leave behind the city and society. We do not need all this nonsense. We, as a people, need to find our roots and return to where God intended us to be. It feels natural to be away from a manmade existence. We don’t need every path paved. It is well within the realm of acceptance to veer off the beaten path and explore this world that lies beyond the limits of comfort. You don’t need wi-fi hotspots at all points of your day. Drop your phone and car keys off. You are past due for a date with your old hiking boots.
I had to get out. This was the moment.
“Miss Beverly? Ma’am?“ My secretary called after me as I walked out of my office. I just kept walking. I wasn’t going back. I couldn’t.
This formal attire was smothering me. I had to get out to the fresh air and trees. I had to get away from this city. I reached up and clutched at my throat, pulling my scarf down and out of my way. My heart started beating faster when I heard the Jeep chirp and flash its lights as it unlocked. I like to be self-sufficient. They were forcing my hand. I had to do it.
I was doing something I shouldn’t be. I whipped the scarf from around my neck and let it get caught up in the air as I threw it out the window. The buttons popped off when I ripped the shirt open, shooting in every direction. I had to get air. I had to get a chance to breathe purity once again. My life was polluted with pre-packaged meals and stop and go traffic. I am not of the mindset that we were ever meant to be stacked upon each other the way we are these days.
I needed my own space. I needed room to stretch out my arms and feel cleanliness of nature. I sped away as fast as I could. It felt good to be racing out of the city.
The buildings and exit signs were a blur behind me. I needed to find a place where I wasn’t closed in. I wanted to be away from a desk, responsibility and inauthentic expectations. All that was living a lie to me. I didn’t want to be that person any longer. I knew no other way out.
I made it out of the city. I drove fast without hesitation. I-95 is a long road with a lot of possibilities. It made me smile thinking of all of them.
I pulled over to a small gas station where the 95 hit 17. While I was putting gas in the tank, I took the top off of the Jeep. It wasn’t doing me any good. I wanted the wind in my hair.
I went inside the minimart to grab some supplies. I loaded up the basket with a couple bottles of wine, some cheese and a cheap pair of flip flops.
A teenage boy was working the counter. His name tag said his name was Bobby. I asked Bobby if he knew a good place to get away and take a few days off. Without taking his eyes off me, he pulled down a business card and handed it to me.
Bobby said his aunt rented the house out. It was right on the beach of Jekyll Island. I merely had to continue down 17 to the 520 and straight to the beach. That sounded simple enough to me.
I thanked him; flashed him a smile and a wink. He blushed. As I was walking out to the Jeep, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window. My shirt was still wide open, revealing my bra. I stopped short, trying to decide if I should be embarrassed. I smiled and continued on my way.
I tucked the bags behind my seat. I pulled off my heels, throwing them back there, too. Then I shimmied out of my nylons. I threw them on the passenger seat.
As I pulled out of that gas station, the wind took the nylons away. I watched them fly into the air. I pressed the accelerator.
Captain Q 