It Is Not A Sin

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It is not a sin, no matter what they say
For love triumph over all — beyond how we explain
For truth is greater than words
Thus loyalty & devotion shall forever remain

I’m not worried what the preacher says
For he doesn’t understand our match
Too ancient to grasp our harmonization
He has his own itch he can’t scratch

All that matters is how we feel inside
True love is not a notion they can reject
Our bodies & souls eternally intertwined
Upon a higher calling our passion connects

You Don’t See Me

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You don’t see me when you look my way
Like a ghost – I just don’t seem to appear
Faded into the background of life
Unable to compete with all you hold dear

My kind smile & open arms aren’t a reality
Merely static in your fashion-conscious day
I’m over here trying to catch your eye
Yet my shadow is not even in your way

What more can I do to attract you

The uncool of America
Not enough flash
Eagerly & quietly industrious
But we’re still short on cash

You’re out here ridin’ high on your horse
I’m down here with my heart broken
You’re clearly oblivious to my existence
I wonder if you’ll ever be woken

Dreams Of Pretty Dancing Girls

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Dreams of pretty dancing girls
Tartan skirts & gold buckles on their shoes
Legs draped in such fine stockings
High kicks, but treasure out of view

The fantasy of a joyous party
Spirited music playing a bit loud
Fiddles & bagpipes; what a scene
You pulled me out of the dense crowd

Beauty of drinking black beer all day
My stature begins to slightly tilt
You quietly asked me for a light
But there’s no pockets in this kilt

Envisioning what the night might bring
Is it possible that you could be this real
Sharing a pint in a secluded corner
A second Guinness is considered a meal

The Government Wants To Lock Me Up

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The government wants to lock me up
For I don’t fit into their diabolic plan
Turning society into robotic morons
I just can’t continue to work for The Man

Trying to sell us artificial stimulants
Fickle airwaves that their bully pulpit bought
Falsified histories & professional victims
The system wipes us away without any thought

Pharmaceutical conglomerates tell us
Conscience is a personality disorder we can’t shake
Turning our daughters into Stepford Wives
Stealing our minds – hoping we’ll never wake

Corporations in league with the dolt on the throne
Continuously embarrassing the whole of humankind
Whose agenda has a limited number of characters
How the hell is this the best choice we could find

But I won’t succumb to any of their devices
I’ll take my liberty and the happiness I’ve pursued
Rejecting the crooks & ignoring their feigned power
Won’t find me in Nurse Rachet’s line; docile & queued

I can’t live a life that’s so blatantly false & empty
My soul is no longer pristine, but I’m an honest guy
I’m taking to the wilderness; leaving the State behind
I’m trading their promises for a more natural high

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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Poseurs, Pacifists & Poets Reek

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Poseurs, pacifists & poets reek
Sitting high on a lifeguard shack
Nighttime cloaked down upon us
Words in darkness never taken back

Ocean waves break the silence tonight
Only our thoughts to be heard otherwise
Isolation not what you thought it’d be
Tearing out your incessant broken eyes

Midnight sounds to be held on tight
A swim where you can never return
A fatigue to be felt deep down
Love exposed to moonlight will forever burn

Now That I’m Old…

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Now that I’m old, there’s no chance to be cool
I’m that creepy lurker passing the delicates isle
Finding myself lost in nebulous thought
Youth dropping their eyes while I try to smile

You can’t be friendly when you’re a certain age
Somewhere along the line, I missed my cue
Oblivious to the graffiti on the decaying walls
I’m slowly dying, more with each day that’s through

Stuck before I can be the wisened old fellow
Conversations with alter egos as I deliberate
Taunting life with my aggressive apathy
Father Time impatiently waiting for my cryptic fate

A litmus test for fragile character upon my days
Emerging from adulthood with wisdom in my head
Never again a victim to society’s whims
Pushing past expectations; my own hero instead

Rising higher than their own trite requirements
Still not accepted & still the silly old fool
Sketchy, weird & perpetually the outcast
Damn, there went my last chance to finally be cool

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

I’m Not Your Reluctant Hero

 

I’m not your reluctant hero
I’m nothing along those lines
Don’t think so highly of a fool
With your lips crumbling into your wine
Please don’t raise me up to be much
I’m not what you see with your eyes
A figment of an imagination’s dream
I’m lost within these warm Florida skies

I Know I’m High Maintenance

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I know I’m high maintenance
Requiring a lot of attention, affection & affirmation
But I return it all with utmost devotion
Drowning out apathy’s lazy fulminations

Not one to be quiet & demure
She’s the lady I can’t refuse
Always tempted by her presence
Banners at the ready; sing out the news

I contain a physical style of love
Many out there don’t like my PDA
Wishin’ I’d be more subtle
But I’m blessing her with this passionate bouquet

 

 

 

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