Opposing Dialects Of The Same Depression

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Opposing dialects of the same depression
Feeling callow when we don’t commiserate
Paperback blues of a notorious sort
You got paid, but that won’t always encapsulate

Strike out to find something foundational
Charms of something more eternal than gold
Words are hollow if not properly digested
Cling to this disjointed life, if you be so bold

Delayed Motion Of Her Hand

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Delayed motion of her hand
Lost in thought; unable to translate
The slippery notion of time
Within the energy of a tangible fate

Let us remain discrete in our words
She tries to focus as I obnoxiously flirt
Concentrating on writing proper forms
Caught her unaware as I reached up her skirt

She’s Alone

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She’s alone
In spite of all the adoring eyes
Propped firmly on the pedestal
A solitary witness when lust dies

She’s been up there in isolation
The heroine of the bell tower
A slight teeter in her stance
Still defying gravity on the hour

Her alabaster skin shines at night
A chance to quietly & decidedly atone
The decadence of her marble bust
Fingerprints on her heart of stone

Another teary-eyed princess
With a vintage, tarnished crown
Yet, I cannot stop worshipping her
For who’ll catch us, when we all fall down

But from this distance
I cannot properly love her

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

I Can Still Make Mature Women Blush

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I can still make mature women blush
Knowing the proper placement of words
Using my tongue to enunciate firmly
The rhythm of recitement, she slowly purred

The fertile experience of rapturous joy
Pause a moment, so she won’t catch her death
Letting her pulse settle to reasonable levels
Returning to the living, joy in each & every breath

The bold blonde with big, bouncy curls
Much-maligned missionary souls
Falling in love was always my fatal flaw
Especially once I’ve relinquished control

I Can Use All The Proper Words

I can use all the proper words
When needed, I can even be discrete
Whispering the sauciest story you ever heard
My dear, because of you, I am complete


I tend to be modest, but our love is real
By your coy smile, I know I’m on the right track
Your fingers trace & slowly reveal
My God woman! You have the loveliest rack!

Don’t Forget To Repeat Our Truth In Unison

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Don’t forget to repeat our truth in unison
Stand up straight with proper military bearing
Forget your conscience; such things are done
Keep on moving toward the triumph of the daring

Unfurl the banners so that we might recite
Let the people know what we’re fighting for
Light the fires, so the boys may march by night
Let them live out their dreams in the glories of war

Remain focused- don’t live within your heads
For the battle is real, so is the carnage by the blade
You need to stay loyal or your sons will wind up dead
Listen to the drums, forget the thoughts we’ve forbade

This existence is painful, but hell will be hotter
Don’t return with blood soaked memories to spurn
Live up to the fullest; embrace the full-bodied slaughter
Raise your swords to the sky & let the traitors burn

I Don’t Have Pretty Eyes To Attract

I don’t have pretty eyes to attract
Nor a beautiful body to distract
A middle aged, middle class white dude
with no street cred
With charm & gentlemanly conduct
instead
I’ll have to choose the proper words
To prevent from being misheard
Where did our youthful exuberance go
Closed off from a litany of feelings of truth
But I don’t want to be like them
Not worried about a bent halo or tarnished tiara
Angst of foregone conclusions
I want something of substance
Never tamed by society’s expectations
A slow, smoldering strangeness
Embracing the stature of being a little weird
Impervious to judgements of being bland
For through and through, I can only be me
Never standing for someone else’s brand
I hope to always be wild enough to be free

Finding Ourselves Locked In A Torrent

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Finding ourselves locked in a torrent
Quietly dreaming of a harder way
Searching for the proper inspiration
Perhaps I’ll have something intelligent to say

I’m just a local loser with unlimited potential
Most will note my life has been an utter waste
Mocked & forgotten since you dismiss my face
In retrospect- you pine for my notion once you got a taste

I’m Not Saying I Don’t Appreciate

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I’m not saying I don’t appreciate
A lady of Paris, Milan & back again
A smartly dressed woman of the Times
Inspiration for me to re-dip my pen

I’m not saying I don’t cherish
A bold woman who’s a little bossy
Nudity as art upon tasteful scales
Teasing me through 8 x 10 glossies

I’m merely submitting a formal request
Publicly provide the proper image of classy
Though once their prying eyes are shielded
I’m going to need you to be gratuitous & sassy

My Fetish Is Powerful Women

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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 Dancing, Twirling Girl

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A dancing, twirling girl
Caught up in the bedglow
Free from the concerns
A proper lady to surely know
Chamber chorus versus Jazz
She couldn’t guess where I’d be
That’s what kept us apart
Improvisational styles she couldn’t see
Cocktails in the early afternoon
She liked her whiskey neat
A traditional, proper beauty
But couldn’t meet when it came to the sheets
Striking poses within silhouettes
Admittedly swooning from my words
A wry smile & another sip
We sit naked, listening to ‘Trane & Bird

What Do I Do With My Words

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What do I do with my words
How do I contain when they start to leak
Like the Little Dutch Boy
Who’s listening when I start to speak
But I can’t worry about the audience
I’ve got to keep playing my own tune
The steady groover with the proper notes
When it comes to our hearts, no one is immune

Life Has A Way

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Life has a way of working out
When you rise in the early morning hours
Sip your coffee & focus on the positive
You’ll find inner strength, not superpowers
Quietly sending out the proper vibes
Some days – be humble & pay your dues
Keep calm & marinate in your good karma
For soon, you’ll be running around in your Underoos

Stepping Out Into The Light

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Stepping out into the light
My eyes can’t adjust to the sunshine
Night left me with nary a sleep
Stumblin’ home to all that’s still mine
Life comes at you hard & fast on the inside
Wondering when the pitches stopped comin’ in underhand
Won’t wallow in misery nor memory of elsewhere’s joy
These speeches fail to convey truth I can’t understand
Where do we go to return to the proper roads
Did I miss the signal for the game to truly begin
I’m old these days; confused by angles & trajectories
Yet I can still & once again wipe myself clear of my sin