Y’all, We Have Soccer Moms Trying To Ban Books

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Y’all, we have soccer moms trying to ban books
Wishing to shield things they don’t want you to know
But revolutions & thoughts just won’t burn
Intellect cannot be stopped, you merely make them slow

These fundamentalists get hot under the collar
When they see repression, they begrudgingly swoon
A weird fetish to extinguish ideas & desire
Appalled by anyone thinking of Love before noon

The censorious are coming for your hearts & minds
Seething with hate for anything silently inappropriate
Your Book declares thou with sin cannot cast thy stone
Minor scandals not so obscure when karma retaliates

Being fallacious isn’t as grand as it sounds
Yet, ya’ll out here in the streets committing slander
I refuse to pander to your anger & delusions
You’re just waiting to be shut in, unloved; smelling of dander

Do you ever find yourself lost within your misguided intent
I realize you’re genuinely hoping to shield the youth
But they don’t need your unfounded reservations
Nor do they respect your faulty judgement in hiding the truth

Please, cease & desist with your moral hubris
You’re foolish, stop before you fulfill the prophesies of 1984
You’re Orwellian without the perfect irony
But, you’re not ready to deal with the weight of evermore

Bradbury warned us about erroneous application of law
I can see we won’t keep our rights without a fight
Justice leading us into a deprivation of choice
You need to remember Jesus hung with ladies of the night

Within your imprudent latching, you’ve been misled
Matters not if you have delicate sensibilities, the Piper will get paid
I believe you to be rash, but I’m no one of any consequence
I may be deluded, but I believe you gotta get properly laid

Hanging With Crazy Creative Types

 

Hanging with crazy, creative types
They spin your mind in awkward ways
Melding simple ideas into revolutions
Expanding out into our civilian days

They’re different by their very nature
Never able to hide within society
Changing the world with each thought
Their beauty laced with inherent piety

Unplugging From The Mainframe

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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

Sitting Above The Town

Sitting above the town
Talking low in the neon’s glow
Discussing romance & bathtub gin
We’re no experts, save what the shadows know

Rejecting chemical imbalance theories
Sunshine blocked out by the billboards
Late afternoon excursions to avoid reality
A gentle touch to escape the heinous hordes

But the truth cannot be forever skirted
Some days you must wake & simply endure
But the beauty of life will shine on though
With a taste of happiness that’s always pure

Those Matchbox Fantasies

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Those matchbox fantasies
Gunmetal grey panties with soft pink polka dots
She placed a stiletto on her wooden leg
Character assassination plots go all for naught
Unassuming by way of distraction
She’s hiding a switchblade under that dress
She’s dangerous down to her core
A beautiful woman – you don’t want to mess
Beware of their corrosive accolades
There’s no exoneration in the line of fire
She’s insolent about your theoretical love
In the end, she’s killed you with her underwire

Writing Sonnets For My Beloved

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Writing sonnets for my beloved
But I cannot speak in pentameters
The lines & sentiment lost on my tongue
Erasing the stray marks upon the parameters

Mother Nature is exhausted
Discovering it’s time to hibernate
Humble beauty of the landscape
Folding into herself unto the infinite

Hearing the last strains of Autumn
But the air is still hot
Clinging to a customary belief
While we hide behind a fig leaf
But we all know leaves fall and rot

Knowing The Beauty That Lurks

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Knowing the beauty that lurks
Though she’s hidden by the shroud
Draped by the promisingly sheer veneer
Whispering taunts, teases & getting loud

I hear the excitement in her voice
Grasping for control – keeping it steady
My passion & desire suddenly obvious
My world brightens when she’s ready

Drinking Black Coffee Out Of Delta Cups

Drinking black coffee out of Delta cups
The cheap seats listening to Empire Burlesque
Mixed metaphors crawling in the night
Still pondering why a raven is like a writing desk

Dislodged tea parties & cries of Nevermore
The world swiftly swirling all around me
Reducing myself into my words
Hiding now within punctuation & necessity

Unsure of our place in time
Triangulations are stretch marks on the soul
Society wants me to be all shiny
But more often than not, I’m tired & dull

Where do we find our inspirations
The formulations upon our existence
Personalities discarded to the rubbish pile
Pushing us further away within time & distance

They Don’t Have Men

They don’t have men
Down at the newspaper anymore
Dusty ages disagree
They’ve forever closed the door

They’re hiding the truth
In the time of an information superhighway
Where they locked away Dignity
They’re not telling, they won’t say

We’re on our own out here alone
You think we’re lost & have much to fear
Stranded under this desert sky
Be still thy soul, for I was born out here

Hiding Under The Guise Of Tradition

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Hiding under the guise of tradition
A small man standing atop a pagan tower
Embracing ancient laws full of flaws
From which you exert all your immoral power

In a reversal & dissent from my juvenile thought
I dismiss such thought as stale as Babylon
There’s no place in a progressive society
For mindsets as negative as an electron

I’ve learned a lot in my time here on Earth
Now I know what gets her hotter than Wasabi
It’s as simple as treating women as equals
Instead of deepthroating the code of Hammurabi

I’m Trying To Live The Good Life

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I’m trying to live the good life
Exposing my heart, no matter how raw
No need to hide how I’m feeling
Coaxing compassion, so the world might thaw

Standing upright in spite of society
A little shook, but I’m still alive
Move past their hatred & negativity
Within the scope of kindness we’ll thrive

Surviving By The Bright Light of Day

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Surviving by the bright light of day
Pouring coffee directly into my weary eyes
Can’t sleep at night since I must remain alert
Anxious; trying to hide my soul’s invisible cries

Gathering my wits to merely successfully exist
Waiting for the other shoe to drop & Hell to begin
Tired of cowering away in forgotten silence
Appearing strong since no one sees the enemy within

Lighting The Wicks On A Rainy Day

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Lighting the wicks on a rainy day
Blowing the dust off the vinyl
Finding comfort in the subtle tones
& knowing these days aren’t final

Seeing those palm lined drives
Standing out in the mist
Reassuring my lonely soul
& remembering lips I wish were kissed

Her love hidden in the liner notes
Buzz words & other incantations
Knowing she’s my answer
& becoming my perfect temptation

Speak Up, Stand Up; Announce To The World

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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

Your Idols Weren’t Half The Men

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Your idols weren’t half the men
They thought they were half a bottle in
Cowardly hiding behind unjust traditions
Sinning while gulping juniper medicinal gin

Their women languishing in the shadows
Cast off from any chance to reach the light
Yet those damsels can see through the dark
The perfect heroine to save an errant knight

Misconstrued notions of dynamic parity
Swabbing the deck with your fallen idol
Ink smudges & literary drudges
Methinks – their mothers should’ve used spermicidal

Meandering Down An Etched Path

Meandering down an etched path
With vines & foliage on all sides
The overgrowth keeps secrets locked
& provides the perfect place to hide

I know where I always wish to be
A forgotten realm; a place no one thinks to look
Reality, hatred & cruelty forever expunged
I’m safe here – alone in nature – me & a book

One Must Be A Seeker

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One must be a seeker
To discover unique truth amongst the thorns
Head down, hiding that grime I feel inside
I’m intelligent, yet not enough to forewarn

Trying to eek out a stable existence
With all these storms heading my way
But you have to want to be something more
Never content at the beginning of the day

We’re bordering on anarchy
With the streets continuing to seethe
This communal madness
Fighting for our shared right to breathe

But I have a long forgotten confession
Which will leave you confused & aghast
Tacked to the back of a soul’s liberty
Forever within the defense of our contrasts

Poets, Artists & Mischievous Folk

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Poets, artists & mischievous folk
Proclamations & unsorted semi-true theories
Stories of unfounded revolutions
Their propaganda always makes me a little leery

Taking creativity as an undisciplined religion
Allowing me to remain high on dopamine
Though I’ve never been one for public consumption
Hiding behind my words; staying forever unseen

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Wandering In The Forest

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Wandering in the forest without a notion
With my lovely bride by my side
Looking up at the wonders of nature
Between the trees there’s no room to hide

Finding seasons we don’t know at home
Rain, snow & all other forms of emotion
Transparent dreams offer no resistance
Treasures washed away by the errant ocean

You Have All Your Beautiful Decorations

dinner-table-1301952You have all your beautiful decorations

Your Louis bag & Burberry coat

Flaunting everything which couldn’t be

Knowing how to get my bloody throat

You’ll find your adornments gone someday

They’ll suddenly be missing as you wake

Feeling distraught with nothing left

You’ll be lonely without any Real Estate

You’ll have no glamour & no identity

Find a need to fold back within yourself

No one will care, so no reason to hide

You’ll no longer be living on the top shelf

Downcast eyes revealing all exposed lies

Once the object of unparalleled lust

Age without refinement turns ugly

Life’s not so pretty, fallen from the upper crust