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
Repeat 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

Sundown Brings On The Reduced Heat

Sundown brings on the reduced heat
Wind whispering to sail with the tides
Vapors tread quietly upon the feet
Decisions enter & thoroughly abide

Lonely bird settles down on the rails
Experience brings on a sullen glow
We cannot escape when life fails
Currents grip & provide the undertow

I’m Not Feeling Strong These Days

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I’m not feeling strong these days
With my soul in traction
Weakness seems to manifest itself
Sustaining a chain reaction

I’m not feeling invincible anymore
With my heart on the gallows block
Life can crush your spirit
While we’re busy serving the clock

I’m not feeling perfect, quite honestly
But I know there’s toughness somewhere
Upon a solid foundation I shall rise
With a firm grip on love & a fist in the air

Pink/Green In A Pastel Plaid

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Pink/green in a pastel plaid
Her skirt was a pleasant hue
A charming, interesting woman
Never seen eyes that color blue

Her legs were silky smooth
While the hem felt of terse wool
Her’s was a beauty uninterrupted
I knew I was soon to be a lovesick fool

Slow, deep kisses made me weak
Darkness; the grips of a tropical storm
My heart on the verge of falling, but
I needed more than that to keep me warm

& So I Taught Myself

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& so I taught myself
Digging deep into classical books
Borrowing from their bright words
Until some knowledge overtook


Then I broke free of their grip
Slicing my own path & charging off
I sit by the fire, gathering my wits
I block you out – you merely scoff


I don’t care for your opinion
You regurgitate falsehoods & lies
I’m running through the wilderness
& now I’m the Lord of the Flies

Junky Little Notes

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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

Gripping Lightly To The Banister

Gripping lightly to the banister
Our lives slipping away into the ether’s shadow
Gracefully stepping down each marble step
Never succumbing to their expectations of the afterglow
Holding your head up high in dignity
Wear the fancy clothes; wear your favorite scent
Knowing they’ll despise your happiness anyway
Remaining this awesome was never an accident