The Illustrious Words Of Hunter (the elder)

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The illustrious words of Hunter (the elder)
We ante’d more than our parents’ share
Broken cups of mottled modeling clay
Abstinence leaving you lonely & bare

Chanting Yeats without a voice
A rye smile at the lively night’s end
Cocktail girls when only a wife will do
Looking to the heavens to make amends

Time is failing on a tractional level
Bleak mornings to come calling back
Needing to move without giving notice
Resurrection only possible with coffee this black

A Dancing, Twirling Girl

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A dancing, twirling girl
Caught up in the bedglow
Free from the concerns
A proper lady to surely know
Chamber chorus versus Jazz
She couldn’t guess where I’d be
That’s what kept us apart
Improvisational styles she couldn’t see
Cocktails in the early afternoon
She liked her whiskey neat
A traditional, proper beauty
But couldn’t meet when it came to the sheets
Striking poses within silhouettes
Admittedly swooning from my words
A wry smile & another sip
We sit naked, listening to ‘Trane & Bird

These Broken & Delayed Dreams

These broken & delayed dreams
Electric toothbrushes that constantly hum
A pocketful of change
& girls with eyes so pretty it makes me dumb

I’m not one to make a great scene
Yet I’m your average middle-aged guy
Not counted among the mundane
I couldn’t be normal, even if I tried

So we’re all stuck in this spinning limbo
A world with mixed up priorities & hate
I’m confused by all this wasted time
One of these days the hourglass will cease to rotate

So, I’m probably going to be late for work
For my beautiful woman resides in this bed
I could be responsible & get there on time
But I’m always going to choose to love instead

Image by Claudio_Scott from Pixabay

Picking Up My Girl Along The Way

Picking up my girl along the way
A short enough skirt that’ll surely tease
Soft tones upon the extinguished day
Wine & song that I might forever please

Snapping fingers & popping buttons
Ample latitude that I might play her fool
Admittedly; for her touch I’m a glutton
My own words reveal me to still be uncool

My ravishing mettle giving her just cause
Subtly picking up her heels and hemline
This rakish spirit providing her pause
Exposing joy & unadulterated sunshine

Collecting Fresh-Faced Girls With Monogrammed Asses

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Collecting fresh faced girls with monogrammed asses
Spending the morning listening to the Blues
An old soul within that youthful mindframe
Toe tapping, blackout shades & misleading tattoos
I begin to think I’m the one lured
But all we have between us is coffee stained mug rings
Embrace the possibilities of the moment
Join in the beauty of desperate sorrow of BB King
This day is such a sunny tease
Through passion, we become another bedpost notch
A memory Today will keep for all posterity
As she makes me taste the glories of her vagazzeled crotch

It’s A Sparse Paradise These Days

It’s a sparse paradise these days

Feeling another season coming on

Not supposed to feel like this

At least that’s the way we’ve been drawn

She’s still the poor pretty rich girl

Never could get off the same page

Repeated struggles to survive

Tripping on my lines; a vapid stage

Reality is an emotion detached from my soul

You never needed everyone to love you

Instilled confidence to merely exist

Forethought is a luxury that might just be true

Transcripts of the past’s failures

We’ve learned, but not out of society’s grip

False starts & then some

Rising, but we’re still not quite hip

My Love Rests Beyond The Ocean

My love rests beyond the ocean

Beyond the miles I can’t control

The one I need to return to

The one whom is intertwined with my soul

Marking stitches upon the globe

I’m stuck on faraway shores

Missing the girl who makes my heart smile

Knowing I don’t want to travel anymore

The world holds no interest to me

For without my bride, I only see greyscale

Time & distance, mere obstacles

I’m coming back, even though I no longer sail

Image by Milada Vigerova from Pixabay 

Most Guys

Most guys

Will tell as many lies

As it takes to get between your thighs

But that’s not my goal

I’m just trying to find something to fill this hole

That has been left in my soul

*this is one of the first poems I can remember writing. I believe it goes back to ’94 or ’95.