I Have Stacks Of Unused Paper

I have stacks of unused paper
Like the untouched dreams in my head
We all have the forks in our roads
But often take the easier path instead

So many distractions in my way
To give in to them would leave me mundane
I don’t wish to live an ordinary existence
I’d much rather push the envelope & become insane

The results always lead to the same ending
We’ll all wander into death before we’re through
I don’t want to take a straight line to get there
I hope to zig, all the while forever holding onto you

These Broken & Delayed Dreams

These broken & delayed dreams
Electric toothbrushes that constantly hum
A pocketful of change
& girls with eyes so pretty it makes me dumb

I’m not one to make a great scene
Yet I’m your average middle-aged guy
Not counted among the mundane
I couldn’t be normal, even if I tried

So we’re all stuck in this spinning limbo
A world with mixed up priorities & hate
I’m confused by all this wasted time
One of these days the hourglass will cease to rotate

So, I’m probably going to be late for work
For my beautiful woman resides in this bed
I could be responsible & get there on time
But I’m always going to choose to love instead

Image by Claudio_Scott from Pixabay

I’m Seeking A Truth

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

I’m seeking a truth within these fragmented words

My thoughts won’t cooperate with how my fingers move

Typing on this old handmedown machine to transform

My mundane existence into a magical, deliberate groove

I am not afraid to expose the flesh of a wilted soul

There are no heroes in these parts, just broken misanthropes

Internalizing the segmented society & all the villains

Returning to coffee so black the void regains precious hope

Radiating A Positive Vibe Henceforth

Radiating a positive vibe henceforth

A smile & skip in the most mundane chores

Yet perceptions of domestic divinity 

Always can accomplish just a little more

Backlogged Cinderella fantasies

Dancing amid a swirl with a feather duster

Cautiously watching; epically vulnerable 

Wondering if my heart might trust her

It’s no fairytale ending, but a good life

A drink & a fire, quietly getting better

She’s content without our consent 

Cracking a book, curling up into her sweater