You can keep your digital playgrounds
I care not for a Kindle nor a Nook
There’s no time for your technology
At the end of the day, just give me a book
The old fashioned kind, maybe a paperback
Anything without a power source
I don’t need your highbrow radiation
I’ll stick with tangible pages of course
I may hail from generations past
Perhaps I’m boorish, perhaps I’m a lout
But I’m pretty damn basic when the day is done
I’ll still have my pages when the lights go out
Riding the winds of the hurricane
Knowing we’re going to lose power
Stacking the ends of loose leaf paper
Don’t know the time/ don’t know the hour
Pouring a drink, settling in this night
Toast the storm, this one’s going to be a fighter
But when all is said & done
Imagination is how I fuel my typewriter
I’m being teased by the soft pink
Visions held by my fragile mind
Beauty only holds a certain firm
Your words delve until I find
I am strong enough to last
Though you tighten the noose
You know the subtle power
Let us declare a proper truce
Jesus was a rouge agent
Calling out institutions woefully unjust
Up-ending currents & the status quo
Powers that be & reigning corporate trusts
Holding fast in the face of arbitrary traditions
We won’t look to long at your offbeat proclivities
Unnerved authenticity & outspoken truth
But they’ll chalk it up as additional incivility
Looking again to God, but knowing She won’t talk
Red-lettered honesty; realism against expectation
Unvarnished tales of the meekest souls
Rapt against our most quietly brave ministrations
Hiding under the guise of tradition
A small man standing atop a pagan tower
Embracing ancient laws full of flaws
From which you exert all your immoral power
In a reversal & dissent from my juvenile thought
I dismiss such thought as stale as Babylon
There’s no place in a progressive society
For mindsets as negative as an electron
I’ve learned a lot in my time here on Earth
Now I know what gets her hotter than Wasabi
It’s as simple as treating women as equals
Instead of deepthroating the code of Hammurabi
Rereading Orwell and taking notes
Not going to be ruled nor romanced
By an adolescent philosophy
Anyone’s faulty & retched political stance
We need to think for ourselves again
Too many left for dead it seems
Generation of choreographed absurdity
& gathering the news by sharing memes
But I have faith we can regain our promise
By exposing kindness & compassion instead
It is possible to lead by inspiration
Instead of ruling by threats & dread
***
and another thing;
a note to those in power
we need to rename political parties
CSPAN is the lamest way to spend an hour
You don’t see it
The boys not getting enough sleep
Those who have abandoned their homes
Keeping watch over the watery deep
You don’t see it
Those who dream of something better
Youth sacrificing blindly
Riding the tide, salt spray getting wetter
You don’t see it
Loading sea bags in early morning hours
Walking the gangplank in the face of fear
Trusting their lives to a Greater Power
My fetish is powerful women
Standing proud in front of a crowd
Holding court with authenticity
Firmly entrenched without having to get loud
Mesmerized by the way she carries herself
Controlling me with a compassionate glance
She’s my incandescent muse
My reason for believing in happenstance
She’s regal without being out of touch
Properly expressing how it feels to be real
But I know she’s never going to give in
No matter our depravities, she will never kneel
Containing the ability to remain soft & lovely
While always making me hard
She can be inconvenient to worship
Not a plot point, won’t let you simply discard
Who am I to say no?
When she asks me to open up for the Queen
I’m the victim of my own volition
But I love it all, if you know what I mean
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
Immune to a power surge
I sit alone & quietly type
Not affected by technology
Refuse to be your modern gripe
I switched off my terrestrial radio
But I’ll still pound at these keys
I’m not cool or a trendy guy
I’m reserved, doing as I please
There’s never been an audience
Just a few genuine folks
Sharing myself sparingly
I’m better with these slow strokes
I’ll continue to conjure ideas
Preferring to use my typewriter
Nothing fancy; just a love of words
Old, but I can still pull an all nighter
The government wants to lock me up
For I don’t fit into their diabolic plan
Turning society into robotic morons
I just can’t continue to work for The Man
Trying to sell us artificial stimulants
Fickle airwaves that their bully pulpit bought
Falsified histories & professional victims
The system wipes us away without any thought
Pharmaceutical conglomerates tell us
Conscience is a personality disorder we can’t shake
Turning our daughters into Stepford Wives
Stealing our minds – hoping we’ll never wake
Corporations in league with the dolt on the throne
Continuously embarrassing the whole of humankind
Whose agenda has a limited number of characters
How the hell is this the best choice we could find
But I won’t succumb to any of their devices
I’ll take my liberty and the happiness I’ve pursued
Rejecting the crooks & ignoring their feigned power
Won’t find me in Nurse Rachet’s line; docile & queued
I can’t live a life that’s so blatantly false & empty
My soul is no longer pristine, but I’m an honest guy
I’m taking to the wilderness; leaving the State behind
I’m trading their promises for a more natural high
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
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
The world is full of villains & misguided souls
Trying to drag us down to where they forever dwell
They take advantage & find ways to get elected on lies
Summoning their teams of bureaucrats to send us to hell
They have money, power & zero regard for the truth
You’d have to be deaf, dumb & blind to not know what’s amiss
But I don’t want to give them anymore of our time
I solely want to focus on our next kiss
Captain Q 