Wet Sunday Mornings

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Wet Sunday mornings
Grass still damp from the rain
Fresh air still cool to the touch
Rising without a hint of pain

Voluptuary visions upon a treasured bond
Hoping we might become bosom buddies
Remotely fond of the Bon Vivant’s taste
When I proposed to you in the study

My parochial quips; unacceptable in polite society
Profane & unprintable odes to her formidable posterior
Writing what catches my mind’s eye
I can’t help it if my motives might be ulterior

Vice & folly are complimentary rectitudes
But please stop staring at the lady’s chest
There’s only so much to explain away
& no one cares the origin of your Preppy crest

Tell me what constitutes good head
With my mind clinging to her curves
These dreams; had their own Silicone Valley
Yet, when she speaks I’m a pile of nerves

Boxing Day is the day for cunninglingus
Cauliflower ear from her thighs
Witnessing nature’s perfect curvature
Nonperishable lust eschews the dandy’s lie

Vanity is fundamentally unstable
Draping you in silks & laces so gaudy
New souls full of an easy virtue
Just know, how badly I want your bawdy

Hanging With Crazy Creative Types

 

Hanging with crazy, creative types
They spin your mind in awkward ways
Melding simple ideas into revolutions
Expanding out into our civilian days

They’re different by their very nature
Never able to hide within society
Changing the world with each thought
Their beauty laced with inherent piety

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

Standing Wobbly-Legged

 

Standing wobbly-legged
Spread stance, with a mock salute
Whispering; describing her desires
Soon, I hope she won’t be so mute

Passion of an fantastical nature
Possibly seeming like it’s unreal
Motioning me to come forth
Promises of a love I can feel

Building to a palpable potency
A tangible form of bemused intrigue
Charmed to dizzying arousal
Winding to a whirlwind fatigue

With which note to thoroughly enchant
Steps so sure that time cannot lapse
A smirk; mouthing words to erupt
But knowing I’ll finally leave her unclasped

Writing Sonnets For My Beloved

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Writing sonnets for my beloved
But I cannot speak in pentameters
The lines & sentiment lost on my tongue
Erasing the stray marks upon the parameters

Mother Nature is exhausted
Discovering it’s time to hibernate
Humble beauty of the landscape
Folding into herself unto the infinite

Hearing the last strains of Autumn
But the air is still hot
Clinging to a customary belief
While we hide behind a fig leaf
But we all know leaves fall and rot

If You Need To Be Humbled

If you need to be humbled
Get yourself facing into the storm
Test your perceived prowess
You’ll be stifled by a natural form
Your arrogance against existence
You might as well scream into the wind
Hope & prayer to plead
That the good Lord might rescind

The Impossibilities Of Transcribing The Heart

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The impossibilities of transcribing the heart
Finding the usual tricks do less than impress
Flustered; tripping over language
Like when you see Summer’s first sundress

Yet we still have to exist in nature
Bodies moving slowly as the sun rises
Love’s hibernation deliberately stretched
The disguises that passion often emphasizes

Cautiously keeping patience in this heat
As the mercury continuously expands
Rushing to the shore to discover relief
Risking the mirage & being burnt by the sand

The Freedom To Move Is Vastly Underrated

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The freedom to move is vastly underrated
The need to take refuge in the open air
Release yourself from these modern bonds
Get back out there if you still care

I reject their basic version of normalcy
Those rules don’t apply as formulated
Reality was never calibrated for us
Mere common folk to be granulated

Refusing to remain quiet is necessary
Return to nature – turn off that broadcast
Be elusive, for they’re coming for you
You’re necessary as long as you have a vote to cast

Morningtime Mists

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Morningtime mists
Coaxing life to grow
Necessary if not bothersome
A nuisance we all know
Nature weeping
The wildflowers implore
Though my garden
Is thirsty for more

Smelling Like An Old Man

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Smelling like an old man
But a man nonetheless
Reapplying the Old Spice
Sovereignty against the stress

Too many fragrant like chicks
No way for a dude to smell
Are you confused by nature
For I surely cannot tell

Middle Of the Ocean Blues

Paddling around the remotest parts
Looking for hope where there’s no merriment
Our souls evaporating in the open air
Put through this vise of a social experiment
Living out here minus the love & support
There’s only so much a man can endure
Mother Nature whirling up the darkest storms
Blowing away my dreams I’m terribly sure

Hey, hey, hey, pretty mama
Please send me some news
It’s lonesome out here
I’ve got the middle of the ocean blues

Thankful for a little spit of dry land
Feeling a bit wobbly & out of sorts
Having a nice cold one under a palm
Time to recharge my batteries in this port
Soon enough, we’ll be back floating
Feeling the Earth’s rotation upon this burn
Long days of sweat & toiling work
Wearing my body out before I return

Hey, hey, hey, pretty mama
Please send me some news
It’s lonesome out here
I’ve got the middle of the ocean blues

Tasting The Salt In The Air

Tasting the salt in the air
Falling in the night sky
Reaching the saturation point
Nothing special, just a normal guy

Won’t get water logged
For we’re free from that mess
Soaking up purification
Within nature is happiness

Catching Her Skirt In The Wind

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Catching her skirt in the wind
Weathering this day nonetheless
Hair whipping across her face
Flustered; such a beautiful mess

A chilly day among the Highlands
Her tartan blowing in the breeze
The magic of something almost seen
My mind caught up in nature’s tease

Dancin’ On The Dew Drops

Dancin’ on the dew drops
Behind the magic of the unseen
Lettin’ the sun shine through
Another morning light & serene

Duck & dive past negativity
Run free; barefoot on the grass
Soak up all of nature’s joy
I’m gonna go pinch my woman on the ass

Image by Olichel Adamovich from Pixabay

Red Lipstick & A Tight Ponytail

 

Red lipstick & a tight ponytail
The pretty piano player; a punk rockette
The domestic goddess with a need to be clean
Living on the edge of the cosmopolitain set

Hoarding her guilty pleasures fiercely
The moral ambiguity is a stubborn crutch
Ignoring nature’s perfectly placed laws
But she’ll only accept the light’s soft touch

Wearing an evening gown at her elegant leisure
Within her mind, no better way to take a selfie
She’s blunt with her standards & expectations
But lucky for us all, my poems are gluten free

 

Image by Kelsey Vere from Pixabay

IV. It’s Always Been In My Nature To Resist

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It’s always been my nature to resist
Not sputtering words as an endless trope
Never trusting anything popular nor cool
The outcasts & rejects are who give me hope

Meandering Down An Etched Path

Meandering down an etched path
With vines & foliage on all sides
The overgrowth keeps secrets locked
& provides the perfect place to hide

I know where I always wish to be
A forgotten realm; a place no one thinks to look
Reality, hatred & cruelty forever expunged
I’m safe here – alone in nature – me & a book

Sailing Out On The Good Ship

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Sailing out on the good ship
Prevailing winds ensuring a clear path
Foregoing the unexplained existence
Forging headlong into nature’s wrath
Arctic waters surrounding our view
Diligent sailors crewing this steel boat
Perpetually longing for a illusive home
But buoyed by a dedication keeping us afloat

Dimples; The Marks Of The Fairies

 

 

Dimples; the marks of the fairies
Their love touched upon the very faces
Chosen to endure above the others
Dimmed, but remaining vague traces
Magic’s residue upon your life
Nature knowing what is true
Selected to be special
Out of all the woods, they settled upon you

There’s Something To Be Said For Going Outside

There’s something to be said for going outside
Wallowing in the dirt, smearing it on your skin
Returning your soul to the Earth, to be truly free
There’s only one life; you’ve got to get it in
Remove society’s reign over your instincts
Dance unhindered; strip & frolic completely bare
Be at peace with the natural world’s glory
Stand proudly and let your nips feel the Spring air

Burdened By The Oppressive Nature Of The Living

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Burdened by the oppressive nature of the living
Yet a smile can be substantially subversive
Rising higher than even our expectations
For when we love, we love in cursive

This Head Won’t Be Controlled

This head won’t be controlled
There’s no way you can tame
Wild by its very nature
Sweet by any other name
Don’t judge me, lady
Savage, feral & barbaric for sure
My words might be, but my
Hair’s anything but demure

Willfully Getting Lost In The Woods With My Woman

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Willfully getting lost in the woods with my woman
Far from the hordes of the sick & infected
Shutting doors & leaving society behind
Once away, fresh air & peaceful intent detected

Outside, I can find the crispness of nature
& my pure, unencumbered path to be free
Wrapping my soul within Winter’s chill
These unharnessed elements might be the key

Wandering In The Forest

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Wandering in the forest without a notion
With my lovely bride by my side
Looking up at the wonders of nature
Between the trees there’s no room to hide

Finding seasons we don’t know at home
Rain, snow & all other forms of emotion
Transparent dreams offer no resistance
Treasures washed away by the errant ocean

Seeking Out Freedoms

Seeking out the freedoms

But where is the wisdom our follies have made

Washed away with the retreating tides

Now we bask out in the cover of foliage’s shade

I’m sure nature leads us to the answer

The tempted isolation of introverts

The paused legacy of our discontent

Posterity gently tugging at her miniskirt

Tilted scales of Justice – with her hem unraveling

The overture that rises where prudence fails

Our overwrought, sparse conjecture

& leaves us at the darker side of the fairytale

I Can’t Swim That Far

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I can’t swim that far
No use for a sailor like me
Floating with the jetsam
Without the pomp or jubilee
This grey cell rocking
On each & every wave
At the whim of nature
I pray for Jesus to save
A daily grind in hell
No time for witty quips
This a mere life raft
For the Devil’s Flagship

Those Words Come To Me In Those Coffee Dreams

 

Those words come to me in those coffee dreams
A spontaneous marvel of literary delight
There’s a difference between manufactured beauty
& a real beauty, founded by nature’s authentic right
But I can’t explain the nuances with the definition
I’m not one to judge such subjective whims
Focusing on my own qualms & dangling thoughts
Let us sit, pour another cup, let’s solve these problems
I’m not bothered by such trifling issues as rules
Let them worry about my intents & being misconstrued
I let my chosen pages explain all I’m willing to
I’m more concerned if that pot has finished it’s brew

The Tyranny Of Our Modern Age

The tyranny of our modern age
The repulsive nature of our exploited rights
Coming for us before the dawn
Another stolen soul in the night

But pump the brakes there Swamp Thing
Florida is basically the Outbreak Monkey
We can’t be too safe these days
Besides, a lot of y’all were already funky

I’ll be hunkered down, away from idiots
This blanket fort is causing me to itch
Stay home, so we can eventually go outside
Like Carole Baskin, the Covid is a bitch

John Muir

 

“The world’s big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.”
― John Muir