Wet Sunday Mornings

Photo by Godisable Jacob on Pexels.com

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

Time Isn’t What It Once Was

Photo by Gustavo Fring on Pexels.com

Time isn’t what it once was
No longer a never-ending resource
Now I feel the aches & pains
Groggy; consuming the steaming life-force

Wiping the startled sleep from my eyes
The attempts at a structured morning
Lost a step; hard to think these days
Age comes with little to no warning

Waking Up With A Distracted Mind

Photo by Willian Justen de Vasconcellos on Pexels.com

Waking up with a distracted mind
Aftershocks from a week on the grind
Trying to find value before the end of life’s lease
Notes on the venerable self & a lyrical muse to find

Walking up the cold steps of Old Main
A place to encounter books out of the rain
An affinity for the ones with the creases
A shared notion of binding pain

Wondering what fresh barriers to get through
But, I’m not here to explain anything to you
I’m here to love you as we search for peace
That our story & passion continue their rendezvous

These Fallible Bodies Getting In The Way

Photo by Svetlana Zadiraka on Pexels.com

These fallible bodies getting in the way
Of our universal souls meshing
Tracing Rorschach designs on her hip
My mind erases upon naked flesh

She caught me caught dancing in her slip
& the glory of sunshine after the rain
She smiled in spite of being nervous
Hoping life could begin without the pain

I’m Not Proud Of My Strength

Photo by ALTEREDSNAPS on Pexels.com

I’m not proud of my strength
& the tension at its core
Heartbreak of awkward youth
& the pain it always bore

But time passes & we tend to forget
Replaced by tragedy on the evening news
No longer transcribing loss
Nor remembering that fatal bruise

Veering Away From Mainstream Society

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Veering away from mainstream society
Never trusting faces on the news feed
Sensory overload from these endless reels
Algorithm demanding it knows what you need

Don’t try to overthink for yourself
For we have standards to maintain
Get in line, wait for your turn to be free
You’ll go numb; assuredly there won’t be any pain

If You Met Me In Person

Photo by Erik Mclean on Pexels.com

If you met me in person
You’d think I was an uninteresting guy
That I had no personality
But the truth is I can be painfully shy

But if you let my words speak
I can flourish & blossom before your eyes
There might be something worthy
If only you can wait for the surprise

There Are Answers In The Words

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

There are answers in the words
Take time to look between the manual scrawl
Feel your body physically push ideas
Deliberate reflection of perfection before the Fall

Hypnotized by the handwritten thought
The slow meditation; pen gripped without pain
Effortless release of mental blocks
To be proud of these scars, but they’re mere ink stains

I Do Not Have The Weight Of Fading Beauty

Photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.com

I do not have the weight of fading beauty
I was never handed that cross to bear
I will dissipate into the darkness
With few knowing I’m no longer there

But she feels the pain of time
Thinking a curse as we continue to age
The anguish of remaining alive
Yet each new dawn is another blank page

Faded Perceptions Of Underlying Joy

Photo by Kamil Rybarski on Pexels.com

Faded perceptions of underlying joy
Time weathers away what is true
Hard residue of the glittering spoils
Returning everything back to you

The sun bleaches your most precious
Salt-laden & resolving to remain
Chipped & authentically real
Beauty seldom exists without pain

Ill Reputed Minstrel & Her Fancy Dolls

Ill reputed minstrel & her fancy dolls
Forever punished for my dated sin
A hushed wish for something more
Images of the whiteness of porcelain
Do not lead me through vacant doors
No need to become another mistake
Removed from that dreadful life
Sparing additional pain for her own sake
Dancing lightly in the darkness
Admiring her spinning gown
Incapable of resisting delicate charms
Would do anything to replace that frown

Calico Woman Came Calling To Me

 

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

I Don’t Use Umbrellas, Dear

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I don’t use umbrellas, dear
I’d rather dance in the rain
Let it cascade gently over
Cleansing us of lingering pain
Let me take you in my arms
Into your dreams – my words will push
Looking deep into my eyes
As I squeeze your tush

A Crooked Tiara

Photo by Agung Prakoso BayuAdi on Pexels.com

A crooked tiara
Perched over tear stains
Smudged makeup drying
Only the pain now remains
But the sunshine emerges
Hope rises after the ashes
Don’t give up on me, for I’m
Here to kiss wet eyelashes

This Is Life.

This is life. This is reality.
When the pretty words drip away
When the party’s over
You’ve still got to wake & face the day

Digital lovers lavish heaps of praise
Complimenting you on your magnificent blog
While you neglect the physical world
Always remember that pain & loneliness are analog

Seeking A Spiritual Remedy

Photo by Humphrey Muleba on Pexels.com

Seeking a spiritual remedy
For my soul isn’t quite whole
Burnt out & emotionally drained
Tea cup’s empty & I’m no longer in control

Midcentury motif & I’m peeling paint
Shrinking violets & closing in walls
Pushing back against our growing pains
Energy to create, but my life remains a free fall

True To Life, But Hard To Digest The Pain

Photo by Nadi Lindsay on Pexels.com

True to life, but hard to digest the pain
Adversity compounded living without rest
Altered dreams when slumbers can’t remain
Been ages since she authentically felt her best

On The Shores Of Ol’ Patagonia

Photo by Omar Zetina on Pexels.com

On the shores of Ol’ Patagonia
While the citizens did sleep
Youthful fear of affection
Yet into the woods, they silently creep

Don’t let on how you feel
For you might get what you want
The pain of admitting you care
& perchance it might forever haunt

The burden of carrying embarrassment
& possibly feeling regret this long
Thy youth’s clear true love
But hindsight tells me I was wrong

For I wasn’t brave enough to trust
Too busy being incorrect by name
Fear welling into my soul
But I loved her all the same

It’s not fair to bring up old times
Immaturity & self-reject are not a virtue
I don’t deserve her thoughts nor sentiments
In the end, never good enough for you

Still thinking of what might’ve been
Or an excuse to freshly misbehave
Angst & teenaged awkwardness
Take a shot & take it all to my grave

Perfection Laid Out On Satin Sheets

Perfection laid out on satin sheets
Beauty dripping away piece by piece
Every dream slipped right through
Life & loss masked by laughing creases

He said you were everything he desired
Burning deep in his soul, but you refused
Moving too fast to stop & notice him
Yet you cry foul, saying you were abused

The sun rises no matter who is pained
Recall broken hearts when you’re the cause
Plump out your pretty pink lips
In the quiet of night, please retract your claws
Calm thyself, you know your own heart
Time to realize you’re the fatal flaw

Floating Through The World

Floating through the world

Soaking up life like a sponge

Trying hard to wipe away pain

To rid yourself of this grunge

Each night another debacle

Colorful dusk marking time set

Building your wall before alarm

Shredded by demons not yet met

Don’t Pull Myth Out Of The Truth

Don’t pull myth out of the truth

Don’t strip me of a certain beauty

Reality is far too painful for reason

To ease the hurt, our fortuitous duty

I’m Doing My Best

I’m doing my best, can’t you see
Amidst the horrors of our modern day
The ghost stories rising in the mind
The times when you’re in your own way

You grab at your head in pain
The frustration of structured expectation
Pressures of their unintended demands
Prompting proclamations of demarcation

Tired.

Let Me Get Out Into The World

Let me get out into the world
While everyone else is still in bed
Let me move these old bones
I need to get fresh air into my head

Too many stagnant mornings
With nothing to show for the exertion
Feeling low in my spirits
Like I’m a soul still prone to desertion

I need to discover a permanent solution
To rid my life of heartbreak & pain
I don’t want to struggle anymore
Results from my effort & not simply remain

I’m Tired Of Being So Dry

I’m tired of being so dry
In need of an outlet to release my brain
Creativity gone; leaving me stagnant
Building into a wreck of anxiety & pain

My thoughts stunted by vapid feelings
Finding myself too tense, filled with stress
Needing to drink from restorative waters
Like those I found under her dress

But The Simple Fact Is Grace Is Unearned

Photo by Ben Mack on Pexels.com

But the simple fact is grace is unearned
We live our lives as if we’re undeterred
Ignorant to sin & repercussions thereafter
Yet hoping for the winds to remain unstirred

Truth & love are bound to our dreams
The inconvenient reality of the harsh pain of day
Trudging through our irksome tasks
Bright light stuns us into a stuttering delay

Fall to your knees in complete repentance
Submit your soul to the warmth of His sunshine
Release the burden of mortal expectation
Forever embrace the perfect love of the Divine

You Don’t Think You’re Beautiful

Photo by Monica Turlui on Pexels.com

You don’t think you’re beautiful
Because of the pain you feel inside
Existence finds itself with a teetering lull
The path to happiness merely not identified

But you need to write your own dreams
Never settle for what others might demand
Seek out adventure & self-discovery
Find the surprising beauty of the unplanned

Stone Cold Stereotypes

Photo by Keenan Constance on Pexels.com

Stone cold stereotypes
We’re lost in the void
Sudden depression creeps
On edge; constantly annoyed

Deep breaths to calm
We’re all out of control
Transparent in our pain
A generation of lost souls

There Are Many Fancy Writers

 

There are many fancy writers

Those who are great, they’ve decided

Elegant illustrations & plunging necklines

But hubris is often one-sided

There are many arrogant writers

Quick with the wit they’ve decried

Moans of pain suited to their fame

Loving with one eye open it’s often implied

Unfolding Broken Dreams

Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com

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 from a life well lived
For in the end, disillusioned cannot remain

II. The Wolves Are Released

The wolves are released & they’re ready to feed
Blindly & ineffectually sharpening their teeth
Salivating over the vision of this torn dress
Apathy mixed with nothing but pain to bequeath

Image by Comfreak from Pixabay 

Complexities Of Unknown Riddles

Photo by Luriko Yamaguchi on Pexels.com

Complexities of unknown riddles
Mysteries to the source of these ink stains
Swabbing my soul with straight coffee
A distraction from my unseen pain

thinking nostalgic thoughts

Photo by Tomas Anunziata on Pexels.com

thinking nostalgic thoughts
on an empty stomach
rediscovering grunge tunes
stuck at home in a pandemic
remembering the pain of high school
couldn’t fit in anywhere
reliving dark moments
where it could’ve ended
remembering lost loves
& how warm they made you feel
but you know it wasn’t real
leaving you cold & alone
abandoned until life truly began.

Looking Past Clear Stars

Photo by Jakub Novacek on Pexels.com

Looking past clear stars
Each universe has a split seam
Stretch your fingers wide
Leave behind your American Dream
Be easy & think yourself free
Our minds hold us back in chains
Silently slip through the hole
Never following you with their pains

Outlandish Wizards’ Duel

Outlandish wizards’ duel
Mixing bourbon & theraflu
Hell or highwater
We’re gonna fix you
Potions & laboratories
Possible twitch or dull pain
A swig of this or that
You’ll be feeling right as rain

Ernest Hemingway

 

“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

Albert Einstein

“I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.”
― Albert Einstein