Waking Up With A Distracted Mind

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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

Listening To These Winter Winds

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Listening to these Winter winds
I sure miss kissing your ruby lips
I’m cold these days; alone
Dreaming of holding your naked hips

That’s where my hands need to be
Memories of your perfect back arched
Seeing the outline of your love
Leaves my mouth permanently parched

Our Solemn Tales Of Passion & Woe

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Our solemn tales of passion & woe
My life is to slyly denote
Vigor sizzles quietly away
We try any which way but by rote

Always there to circumvent
Employing a nudist typist
But you get the gist eventually
You know, he was there to assist

You rushed out of my life & into the library
I still lust for you in that black dress
Never ashamed of how I feel
Surprised you expected any less

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

Watching The Condensation Seep Into The Desk

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Watching the condensation seep into the desk
I think of the glories that have gone away
The ice melting/mixing into my single malt
I’ve been nervous, but I’m okay by the end of the day

These days weren’t the ones we’ve been dreaming of
Idealistic thoughts when we were on foreign shores
Imagining celebrities dancing in their formalwear
Fancy & festive role models displayed forevermore

Upon the big screen & locked into our minds
Americana lost & the golden age of Hollywood
Stoking the passion of our fervid imaginations
Inspiring our dreams like nothing else ever could

Our hopes & desires abandoned & hung out to dry
March realizations our fantasies are mere celluloid
The cold night, withering on the streets alone
Upon the credits, leaving the theater broke & into the void

Too Many Loud Souls/When Silence Will Do

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Too many loud souls/When silence will do
Fools too busy collecting trophies & stickers
Not focused on truth of what matters
Sneaking glimpses of soul-revealing knickers

But they’re plastic; not of a proper diet
A mere aesthetic for the internet’s sake
The superficial appetites of modern times
I long for days when passions weren’t fake

Somewhere there is something incorruptible
Something pure that we might know
To purge our lives of superfluous antics
To feel a little more real & a little less faux

Collecting Fresh-Faced Girls With Monogrammed Asses

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Collecting fresh faced girls with monogrammed asses
Spending the morning listening to the Blues
An old soul within that youthful mindframe
Toe tapping, blackout shades & misleading tattoos

I begin to think I’m the one lured
But all we have between us is coffee stained mug rings
Embrace the possibilities of the moment
Join in the beauty of desperate sorrow of BB King

This day is such a sunny tease
Through passion, we become another bedpost notch
A memory Today will keep for all posterity
As she makes me taste the glories of her vagazzeled crotch

This Pirate Is An Old Wives’ Tale

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This Pirate is an old wives’ tale
Passed on by sorority sisters these days
Mythical pleasure & infatuation –
Fluttering love; let them count the ways

World renowned for his nautical exploits
But it’s not true they were all naughty
Legends told of a bad boy untrue, for
That infamous passion belongs to only one hottie

Walking Down The Street On All Saints’ Day

Walking down the street on All Saints’ Day
Victrolas on display at the corner store
A flirtatious greeting with the local beauty
She always smiles, but never asks for more

You’ve created another aura within her
Casting her as red-blooded in your pulp fantasy
A polite lady with those vicious high heels
Mental interludes without consent, it seems to me

Take your dreams & exit stage left
You tried to court & failed, life’s not fair
Let a true gentleman whisper elegant words
She’ll open up her passion, exposing her silky pair

Transactionally Stealing Poetry From Her Diary

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Transactionally stealing poetry from her diary
Thinking pretty thoughts, my lady crooner
Shedding our shared idealized past
Ravishingly disheveled from another nooner

These things are seldom spoken aloud
Angels sing out; no longer so distant
Breached actions distorting our thoughts
Heartbroken; leaving you feeling resistant

I’m out here worshipping my secular goddess
Looking for quiet now & avoiding unsolicited advice
Passion not always akin to pleasure
Focused to ensure my kisses are nice & precise

I’m Working On A Deliberate Sound

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I’m working on a deliberate sound
Tracking a feeling I’ve never found

Filtering & distilling a final abstract
Like passion was some sort of artifact

They’re still searching for their good luck
Let us dance holes in our old school Chucks

No need to worry about their errant thoughts
Let me strip naked – for I’m kinda hot

With the beat down to your toes
Secrets of my soul, I’ll cautiously expose

Seeking The Subtle Differences

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Seeking the subtle differences
Between life & the setting sun
Passion is in the overlooked details
At least that’s how we’d begun

Trying to make each step proper
But somehow finding ways to fail
Love doesn’t mean we’re forgiven
Yet it’s the chance each moment entails

I Wonder

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I wonder if she realizes to what extent
How her existence teases me so
She exudes passion & beauty
She looks delicious & I want to know

Her blessings spilling out of her shirt
Perhaps unbuttoned a bit too far
She’s oblivious to my attentions
With her facade cracked slightly ajar

I try to remain with respectful intent
Though my curiosities want probed
I’ll just be waiting over here
In the off chance she becomes disrobed

Such A Difference

 

Such a difference
In a button or two
How you tease me
The way you do

My weary spirits
Begin to rise
You make it hard
To look you in the eyes…

No Matter How Old I Become

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No matter how old I become
I’m still searching; I’m still seeking
Obtaining considerable sums
With any passion, go ahead & start peeking

I’m not one to judge an attitude
I can be sinful so I won’t go there
I’m no Christian Grey, but I’m no prude
If you come unannounced, you’ll find me rather bare

Knowing The Beauty That Lurks

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Knowing the beauty that lurks
Though she’s hidden by the shroud
Draped by the promisingly sheer veneer
Whispering taunts, teases & getting loud

I hear the excitement in her voice
Grasping for control – keeping it steady
My passion & desire suddenly obvious
My world brightens when she’s ready

Summer Girls/Winter Women

Summer girls/winter women
Refreshing my sullen mind
Taste of joyous inspiration
Love heightened upon rewind
Basking in the light of sunshine
Energized by glorious visions
The heat dwells deep within
Passion rising in absolute precision

Image by mskathrynne from Pixabay 

Tracing These Feelings Back

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Tracing these feelings back
Wondering where you began to care
Why did you lose your resolve
& fall in love in the summer’s glare

A palm grove as a backdrop
Kissing quietly behind the reeds
Feeling more than you had expected
Unsure of the coming needs

Layers of sand now everywhere
Breeze feeling cool upon your bare hips
Hopeful surprises found refreshing
Nothing less than passion upon your lips

Hands Out Of Your Pockets

 

Get those hands out of your pockets
& love someone
Spread flirtatious innuendos so she’ll firmly understand
Whispers roll off my lips upon naked skin in the sun
& she knows this passion is worth all the misplaced sand

 

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Quiet, Unassuming

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Quiet, unassuming
Knee deep in your chores
Content in your blessings
But once dreamed of more
Passion fizzled with stress
Domestically kept & cared
Cloaked in suburban life
But I see beauty in there

William Blake

“Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.”

William Blake

It Is Not A Sin

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It is not a sin, no matter what they say
For love triumph over all — beyond how we explain
For truth is greater than words
Thus loyalty & devotion shall forever remain

I’m not worried what the preacher says
For he doesn’t understand our match
Too ancient to grasp our harmonization
He has his own itch he can’t scratch

All that matters is how we feel inside
True love is not a notion they can reject
Our bodies & souls eternally intertwined
Upon a higher calling our passion connects

Searching Cavernous Souls

Searching cavernous souls
Racking what I might believe
Splitting hairs of fragrant
Ideas wandering down my sleeve

But I’m not more righteous
Than the boys down on the beat
I’m flawed, sensitive – prone to anger
Stuck in a commuting rut; weakly on repeat

There’s quiet secret I might contain
Love & passion bubbling just beneath my skin
I think in poetry, but you desire a hero
Can’t compete with expectations; our mutual chagrin

I Just Want To Love You

 

 

I just want to love you
With no drama or distractions
I want to focus on your desires
Us; & our primal interactions

I’ll write of our epic romance
How my forever feels on your lips
But until we can touch again
With anticipation you’ll drip

Image by joelleboente from Pixabay 

Knowing The Bottom Of The Depths

Knowing the bottom of the depths
Untold theories where passion lies
Encased all in a delicate French lace
The truth that logic & gravity defies

Earthbound creatures can’t be understood
It’s simply not in our fallible DNA
Attempted in conversational tones
But we’ve lost connection anyway

Trying to find a way back to the meaning
Reason doesn’t apply to moments like this
Disregard the pressures of our past
That we might create our own sustainable bliss

Image by Dayron Villaverde from Pixabay 

Waking Up, Smelling Of Love

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Waking up, smelling of love
Sore & stiff from our imaginations
A late night of enlightened feelings
Letting moans be our primal narration

Accompanied by jazzy tones & chilled wine
Perfect decorations for our eternal passions
By any means necessary to ensure
That our mutual desire never goes our of fashion

Lounging Early In The Morning

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Lounging early in the morning
She wore an animal print I couldn’t recall
I poured another cup to erase the cobwebs
A chilly morning; slipping past Fall

She was sleek & beautiful, a deadly shade
Overly dramatic in the best possible sense
Passion in abundance for my sole benefit
Edging to a climax at our soul’s expense

Transparent Dresses Hanging In The Mud Room

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Transparent dresses hanging in the mud room
Saran-Wrapped for mild protection
Eyes closed to foreign tales
Tempered thoughts of stifled affection

Painted prose with regurgitated eyes
Our dreams left choking on the floor
Scribbling beliefs with thick gouges
Manufactured truth with cries of Nevermore

Redundant weight of classical heroes
Forcing us into bastardized Groupthink
Yet my mind still wanders to her opaque passion
Chasing her dragon with endless ink

Midnight’s A Fine Time To Take The Jacksonville Train

Midnight’s a fine time to take the Jacksonville train
Rolling double boxcars to decide our fate
Gotta get back to my lover’s bedside
‘cause women like that don’t hardly wait

Been dreaming of her since the days of steam
Finely dressed woman with incalculable sense
I’m lagging behind schedules & timetables
Hindered by a world of devastating pretense

Spellbound, in the terminal cloister, trying to keep track
Our destiny dwindling, chanced by the tumble of dice
Fearing snake eyes when we need eleven
For lightning isn’t going to strike us down twice

Separation has me feeling on the edge of sincerity
Bleary eyes blinked time & again for some sanity
I’m not emotionally set up for these tribulations
Fear of failing, yet no marks upon my frivolous vanity

Memories of forgotten moments in the text
Perhaps it’s time for me to remain fully alert
But I can’t ignore how my insides churn
The notions of the woman so beautifully pert

It’s risky to return my heart for ante
Somewhere she’s loosening her bustle
This venture is getting out of hand
When she’s applying her legendary hustle

Pulling into the station, I know my lot
A few hours late; enough for passion to be reclaimed
I’ve tried my best, but crapped out again
In my weakness, I become loved; that’s when the angels came

Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay

Reciprocal Love

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Reciprocal love
Feeling a deep desire
Focus on her existence
Passion’s everlasting fire

Passion Failing All Around Me

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Passion failing all around me
We’re all exposed on the battleground
Hearts breaking wide open
Sketchy footing, leaving the night unsound

Cautiously looking out into the world
I’m safely behind doors & my windowpane
A vicious society who always destroys
Forcing love to wither & die in vain

Cherishing the woman I’ll forever desire
Who wears my great-grandmother’s ring
Upon us to ensure it doesn’t happen here
With her in my arms, I’ll always I’ll cling

Falling In Love Every Morning

 

Falling in love every morning
Reminders of the Lord’s perfect grace
A partner in this shared existence
Let me look upon your slumbering face

Slipping from the warmth of our bed
To chronicle the inspiration found in the night
Regeneration of unbridled passion
Earnestly dedicating these words that I now write

A Poetess Of No Structure

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A poetess of no structure
I bet you taste sweeter
Your passion runs deep within
You shall not be contained
By any man nor concept
You hold the power
To your own release

I Want To Touch You

I want to touch you
Taking in your hips, nips & lips
Forcefully; against the bookshelf
We keep making the record skip

There’s no quenching this fire
This passion burning inside me
I want this life to last forever
Keeping pace with the love setting me free

Vibrations Coursing Through Your Corset

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Vibrations coursing through your corset
Am I still making you nervous, my dear
Does your heart beat louder in that chest
Whenever I come near

Walk slowly across the room to me
Let me watch your beauty in motion
The deliberate steps in those heels
Your passion overtaking the ocean

Admiring the view of your new tights
You spoil me something mighty, Miss
My love has never been more obvious
I’ll explain it all through this kiss

The Slightest Thought Of You

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The slightest thought of you
Makes me squirm in my seat
Passion boiling until its true
Creation ignites under sheets

Looking For A Tepid Note

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Looking for a tepid note
Passion hinted in the scrawl
Something lost that night
When we last lovingly balled
One eye never shuts now
Always searching for you
No dreams to rile or navigate
I’m wandering without a clue

A Wink from Her To Get My Heart A-Revving

 

A wink from her to get my heart a-revving

Her pink negligee hanging below her knee

Soft skin turns into hardened intentions

The promise of a night of debauchery

A bouquet not desired, but a single bloom

Visions of adulation thoroughly taut

I’m rigidly attuned with her frequency

A fine suited man removing a Windsor knot

Fastened to my bedpost; a sailor can surely tie

Settling down with this libertine, methinks

A pretty picture of a delicious woman

Purely polished reflections in my cufflinks

Post coital; passion overflowing this room

Perfection amid people imperfectly real

Precious moments that I’ll never forsake

My woman’s love, allowing me to constantly heal

Dreary Days Upon The Quiet Streets

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Dreary days upon the quiet streets
Our dreams rising in the partial mist
Absorbing unfiltered words & sentiment
Those passionate hours forever kissed

The Ideology Of Her Interior Impurities

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The ideology of her interior impurities
Her dominating passion left me with a cringe
Dispelling riotous rants & curious notions
While my own psychic deformity left me on the fringe

Wading Through Seawater In Your Dress

Wading through seawater in your dress
Clinging to your delicious curves
Exposing the universe to me
Standing at attention; all my nerves

You’re the anomaly of this world
Virtue & flexibility of our seams
Wrap your legs around my mind
Allow me the most sensuous dreams

Never to rejoin this delinquent society
Let me lead you with hands on your hips
To paradise removed from their hate
With nothing but flirtation on your lips

Gimme sass with a shake of that ass
Raising toasts to love in a crystal chalice
Our passion overflows conventional wisdom
Since I’m directed by the sapience of my phallus

I promise to hold you close all our days
& to occasionally provide your kind of cuddle
But I’ll always do that thing you like so well
The one that never fails to leave you in a puddle

The Lord Created Me For One Purpose

 

The Lord created me for one purpose
To show you passion & keep you happy
I’m here to reciprocate this smile
Though it might come off kinda sappy
I want nothing more than all of you
To take your hand & forever dance
Please excuse my directness
I’m hopeless when it comes to romance

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

Frayed Cuff On Antique Khaki

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Frayed cuff on antique khaki
Knowing thy state of dress
I wasn’t as dapper as she was used to
Hoping she wouldn’t think any less

He wasn’t any better than a prig
Her dance card drawing sideways looks
Quietly, she enjoyed my wicked tongue
& the way we shared our crooked books

Shaking the dust off our neglected spines
Certain steps lead to an awkward courtship
But faith in the power of pristine passion
That’s when I met her puckered cherry lips

These Notebooks Drip With Inspiration

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These notebooks drip with inspiration
Thoughts of passion in so many words
Raw relations developed from a focused mind
You want more, but you used to call me a nerd
Back in school, you were the height of popularity
I still remember how your indifference stung
Time does wonders in both directions
Beauty fades even while this life has truly just begun

Such A Beautiful Specimen

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Such a beautiful specimen
As I’m sailing through a mirage
Blue waters falling into crystal eyes
More interested in her décolletage
Aspirations following the deep night
Knowing the truth of a certain fashion
Toe to toe & inequality reigns
My only hope lies in enthusiastic passion

I Know I’m High Maintenance

 

I know I’m high maintenance
Requiring a lot of attention, affection & affirmation
But I return it all with utmost devotion
Drowning out apathy’s lazy fulminations

Not one to be quiet & demure
She’s the lady I can’t refuse
Always tempted by her presence
Banners at the ready; sing out the news

I contain a physical style of love
Many out there don’t like my PDA
Wishin’ I’d be more subtle
But I’m blessing her with this passionate bouquet

 

 

 

Image by Vitabello from Pixabay

 

This Is A Game We Can’t Lose

This is a game we can’t lose
& I’m very good at taking cues
A reflexive wink or a low moan
Demanding a perfection we hone
Bliss comes in any position we choose