Dipping the nib to recreate a dream
God’s plan woven into our sleep
Where do we find our moments of clarity
The ink spreading quietly as if my words weep
Pulling a clean sheet from the ream
Porous surface of the stark linen awaits
No mystic charity in wringing your soul
Close your eyes & embrace your passionate traits
A pitch black morning
Lightning out in the stratosphere
Sharpening thy tongue
Sunrise the only thing we fear
Deflecting unwanted attention
Desiring space, but not too much
Pulling love from the cosmos
Daybreak; yet further out of touch
Sometimes I’m an awkward lover
I try to slap your ass & pull your hair
But I don’t always have confidence
But I’m doing my very best down there
But I can promise you one thing, dear
I will love you and only you forevermore
I may be a gentleman at public events
But I’ll be your pirate behind locked doors
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
There’s a whole other world
It’s never wise to take a peek
Pull the curtain forever closed
That’s not the happiness you seek
I can’t write with this cluttered mind
Too many tabs pulling at my attention
Structures of thought too often recede
Failing me when I most need comprehension
I’m tired of dreaming of the love I want
I’m tired of writing peace line by line
Where do we find a comforting solace
Lasting longer than the crystals of winter sunshine
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
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
Unfettered and unlined
Drinking coffee deep into the night
Unfiltered; seeing life as it truly is
Feeling raw, returning to my machine to write
I’m pulling the strings, creating fictional tales
A life breathing under these mechanical keys
Slowly coming to the surface
A birth in words, triumph in moment’s like these
Overcast Navy sailing away
Pull up your trousers (black silk)
Your stay here has been cut short
Prominent sundresses & of that ilk
Humid weather slowing me down
Manicured hands releasing winds to blow
Settle into your newly structured mind
We never asked you to row so slow
Not listening to rumors on the deckplates
There’s a truth down there you can’t feel
Displacement registered in the silence
Absolutism shook along the keel
I still know you in spite of your success
For I knew you when you were poor
Beauty does not replace kindness
It merely opens up another door
Excuse me, Miss
I need help between the books
You look down your glasses at me
Don’t worry about their errant looks
You’re dressed mighty nice
I think it’s by the back shelves
It seems I’ve gotten us lost
Oh my, I think we’re by ourselves
I pull you in close
A hand sneaks under your skirt to play
You moan aloud; onlookers’ smile
Apparently we’re still on display
Image by Eli Digital Creative from Pixabay
Captain Q 