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

The Growing Need To Wake Up & Create

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The growing need to wake up & create
Her stockings laid gently
                         over the ornate partition
Sacred vulnerabilities shared
Poetic affirmations after discarding
                          the bland tropes
All sins must return to the sea

Make Sure You Call Her Beautiful

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Make sure you call her beautiful
Don’t refer to her as merely ‘hot’
Don’t say tits or tatas
Be respectful of all that she’s got

Be charming when you speak of your lady
Be a gentleman; know how the game is played
Don’t divulge any of her secrets
When you shut your mouth; a better chance to get laid

Surrounding Myself With Ancient Friends

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Surrounding myself with ancient friends
Wisdom & experiences laid upon my shelf
Bare for all to quietly consume
Providing a chance for a better version of self

Absorbing past lives without pause
Silhouettes of women from long ago
Angst from existential rights in time
Visions of dreams I wish to forgo

These books are mere placeholders
For the contents of my heart upon hardwood
Gentle reminders of our former intellect
& the hope we might return to being good

Securely Sheltered In Your Castle

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Securely sheltered in your castle
He makes sure you’re secluded
Always firmly safe from all harm
Obviously he’s benignly deluded

The loneliness still quietly invades
The walls upward of 10 feet high
Locks, bolts & your skeleton keys
Helpless against memories of a guy

Your suburban paradise glitters
But you’d rather be alive instead
Perfection laid at your feet, but
The punk of your youth isn’t dead