Unfolding Broken Dreams

Unfolding broken dreams The distant & diluted flow Our hopeless choices astound The truth? We still don’t know But we can never give up Clinging to the last of our visions Memories cultivated on dark nights Leaving us exposed with obvious incisions How do you translate a morning When your soul bears undiagnosed pain Scars

Our Private Thoughts Remain Unimpeded

Our private thoughts remain unimpededKeeping the ghost light on those theater stepsDaily life can become a sullen drudgeryYet still remembering when my heart last leapt

Last Season’s Vintage

Last season’s vintage with coffee stainsSpelling out what we might genuinely needHope we might outlive our transgressionsErrant dispatches; all the ones you forgot to read

Let Us Focus On Love

Let us focus on loveExpel their notions of hateI won’t let them affect meI’ll set the standards for my fateThis life won’t last foreverThe glories in Heaven surely awaitBut for now, I’m going to be compassionateTo take care of the people – HOPE we’ll create

I’m Pounding These Keys

I’m pounding these keysTrying to create a landmarkSomething to last through timeA rhyme to set off a sudden sparkI’m vain in ways I won’t admitA schedule of words upon the pageFormulas/equations for me to disconnectMemories for after I’ve withered into age

Leaning Against The Doorframe

Leaning against the doorframeDraped in my best dress shirtI see you’re in for fun & gamesAlready cleaned of the day’s dirtYou tease me with a winkFor your essence, I’m a gluttonEvery moment my willpower shrinksAs I watch you finger the last button     Image by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay

Don’t Look Her In The Eye

  Don’t look her in the eyeFor it might tip your moveJust a simple guyWith nothing to proveShe wants nothing from you& your humble waysSociety envies herStack that against the straysDon’t show her any interest& she’ll question her worthTwisting this back on youLike you’re the last man on earthKeep to yourselfDon’t be any more than

Broken Umbrellas & Sturdy Desks

Broken umbrellas & sturdy desksMaking no distinctions for the loss of timeSketching out all the possible plotsWillful heartache remains the worst kind of crimePut away your stencils & fountain pensThese days call for someone to be original & boldToss aside oaken casks of yesteryear’s notionThis world isn’t ready for those who shattered their own moldTea

It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn

It was a one-eyed kind of morn With evening’s festivities going awry I scrawled out all I could remember Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy Slight images of a lovely form Olfactory sparks upon my brain Sketching the party’s guest list But no new faces could remain Racking my skull for a proper memory Writing

The Man Has You Grinding Away

The man has you grinding away The organ makes the monkey dance You’re looking for the Promised Land But you never really had the chance You’re writing your soul on the page Friends support & love all they heard But the critics cry foul & laugh bitterly You’re only as good as your last word