What Could Be More Perfect

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What could be more perfect
A night with my hands on your hips
Never letting go of your beautiful sight
Except when I lean in to kiss your lips

A sweet tune to dance upon
Losing clothes with each bottle we drink
Our eyes smiling within true love
My hearts still skips when I catch your wink

Rubbing Their Fingers Over The Stereo Knob

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Rubbing their fingers over the stereo knob
The frequencies distorted on the airwaves
Kings of the new world & thus apocalyptic
Searching for something more pragmatic to crave

These technocrats with no concept of reality
Tasking – without offering an alternate fate
Demanding citizens for homages to be digital
With no power to control – or else we attenuate

Words of peace have the chance to amplify
Even when we’re feeling out of time/out of sync
Don’t need their fiber optic lies to survive
A blind man loses all when forced to blink

Tapping into a passion without any circuits
Our transistors are live; we’re lovers thus discrete
There’s no stopping us when their signal’s weak
There’s nothing but fire & sparks when our wires meet

This life is forever altered now we’re here
Do not attempt to adjust the squelch
You’re listening to Radio Free America
Standing proud & robust like Raquel Welch

The Twinkling Of Stars At Night

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The twinkling of stars at night
Dispatched souls with nothing to lose
Our lost matchbook fantasies
Dwindling into aging suburban blues
Not fond of Covid nor the Spanish Flu
I’d rather have some Spanish Fly
Mix it in my cup, “yo baby, what’s up?”
I’m still that awkward ass, abnormative guy
Fading time to time into darkness
But I try to emerge into the light these days
A bounce in my step/mischief in my eye
Growing younger in spirit despite all these grays

Love Letters To Myself

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Love letters to myself
A hug written upon a notecard
Scribbles for no one else
Sometimes life is just too hard
Taking moment away from the herd
Break off from all that I know
Losing myself in nature’s glory
Words can slow the overflow
Breathe – just letting it happen
Soon, I’ll be able to take some more
Reflecting my small truths
It’s easier to recover upon the shore

Remember The Old Ways

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Remember the old ways
Scribbling out passionate jots
Secret notes to my beloved
Sharing all my lucid thoughts
Remember feelings of yesteryear
& how we were perfectly aligned
Don’t lose who we used to be
Through time – love remains undefined

Ernest Hemingway

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“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

Ernest Hemingway, Men Without Women