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 down every & each detail
Compiling a list to rediscover
I’m trying to think, but it’s to no avail

A faceless gown with affectionate gloves
Somehow my mind is able to recall
Cognitive fragments begin to linger
Clouded out by last night’s alcohol

Scenes slowly begin to return
I believe we’re out on the dance floor
An embrace of smoldering desire
Yet I couldn’t figure out any more

Scraps of notes spread before me
No identity to place upon the truth
Scant reason to be shy in my search
Basking in honesty of my lapsed youth

Cobwebs have been sparsely lifted
Won’t think of her in the past tense
Her ghostly touch encourages me yet
We shall meet again, I firmly sense

To hold her with determined spirit
Seems fantastical at this sad rate
Yet she’s left fingerprints upon me
Remaining until I succumb to my fate

Suburban Arcades & Record Stores

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Suburban arcades & record stores
Love notes left jammed in the teletype
Ancient technologies lost to whims of time
Sacrilege of consuming before it’s ripe

Littered by dreams of public-school poets
Falling to the feminine side of healing
Whose obedience to authority lingers
But only the lonely are rhymin’ & stealin’

Our literary antihero catching the cliff notes
A repressed childhood is still better by half
Trying to make up for that deleted time
But you can’t get far by writing on decaf

Standing with arms braced to the wind
Needing antiquity to know how we perform
Rolling empty dice against our loaded fates
Summer on the coast ensures the storm

I Can’t Explain

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I can’t explain
I don’t have the frightful words
Just know I can still feel
Yet my notions contain the absurd

These nuisance actors linger
Youthful mistakes I always regret
The musty smell of a cracked spine
Odes & reams I can never forget

Her Scent

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My sweatshirt still lingers with her scent
Pondering what all the flirting meant
Remembering the clouds glowing from the lights
Sitting on the hood, enjoying her company that night
I can still see her –  with her long blonde hair
She looked so beautiful standing out there

Trying To Recreate Life

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Trying to recreate life
In spite of these ink-stained fingers
The smudges in the interior margins
Forgotten, yet where light tends to linger

These days aren’t so easily understood
I contradict back onto myself
Leaving traces in my erratic wake
All I know – Love has been my only true wealth

Just Because You’re The Inspiration

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Just because you’re the inspiration
Doesn’t mean you’re the intended
Taking what life gives us
Even those not comprehended
Just because you’re the muse
Doesn’t mean you’re the truth
Finding open sores upon the soul
Lingering there since early youth
Just because you’re the source
Doesn’t mean you’re all that real
Gone once my fingers close
You’re merely a ghost my heart can feel

Calico Woman Came Calling To Me

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Calico woman came calling to me
Hushed words within a poised stance
Lingering, but pale stars falling
Returned with dislocated underpants
Thinning with ulterior motives
Never forgot her hocus-pocus
An underlying pain feeding through
Life left when love slips from focus