Where Are The Heroes For Our Own Time

Where are the heroes for our own timeThe poets & warriors to lead the chargeI’m not the effigy of your incompetent apathyMerely the pirate of record, by & large Who will join me among these ranksTo beat back the mind-numbing attitudesTo hell with society & its reality televisionTaking my crew to more temperate latitudes

Fates & Folly Everlasting

Fates & folly everlastingWithout courage to proceedA beautiful ladyMeasuring thought & deed But she just wanted my heartNo matter the complicationsI couldn’t view the realityOf her love without reservations

Perhaps I’m A Bit More Prudish

Perhaps I’m a bit more prudishThan I ever expected myself to beShying away from their exhibitionsFolding my soul back into propriety Maybe I’m not as cool as you thoughtI’m more of a meandering old fellowWriting out lines of cautious fantasyWhereas reality reveals itself to be rather mellow

Meandering Down An Etched Path

Meandering down an etched pathWith vines & foliage on all sidesThe overgrowth keeps secrets locked& provides the perfect place to hide I know where I always wish to beA forgotten realm; a place no one thinks to lookReality, hatred & cruelty forever expungedI’m safe here – alone in nature – me & a book

I’m Not Going To Forfeit This Life

I’m not going to forfeit this life Grasping at reality along the way Running headlong into risk Finding out what the youth have to say Nurturing growth & development Truth remains after their neglected lie Sweat falls from my brow – a start We can’t let the dream of freedom die   Image by Tibor

Rubbing Their Fingers Over The Stereo Knob

Rubbing their fingers over the stereo knobThe frequencies distorted on the airwavesKings of the new world & thus apocalypticSearching for something more pragmatic to crave These technocrats with no concept of realityTasking – without offering an alternate fateDemanding citizens for homages to be digitalWith no power to control – or else we attenuate Words of

Pirate Prep

Pirate PrepSlow reveal behind the maskBut there’s no dick picsNo matter how politely you askI’m gonna keep something for meReality to keep up with illusionYou’re drooling over my secretsObviously tainted by your delusion

Life Rocks Us Silently

Life rocks us silentlyRising & falling with the boatVisions held most dearWithin these stories I wroteRemoved my choice of realityBut here I’ll take my standFirm between the swellsWith gentle reminders of Neverland

Maybe Those Were The Days

   Maybe those were the daysI wasn’t so perfect, structured or neatRebelling against all humanityCouldn’t tell the difference in defeatA crooked line to followA wrinkled brow upon the figureheadOur dreams fractured when appliedLost within reality’s pragmatism instead

Forevermore Villanelle

It’s not too much to ask for Cold chilling to our bones When we’re together forevermore Wrap yourself tightly, I implore Through love, we must atone It’s not too much to ask for Briskness recalls days of yore Nostalgia to which we’re prone When we’re together forevermore Battered ships upon the same shore Knowing we’re

Feeling A Great Need To Create

Feeling a great need to create This is a crazy world today When will we ever thrive when We don’t remember what we say Hidden slowly in your dreams Reality hinders our solutions Time tocks against us now Feeling abstract absolution

The Beat Making My Diesels Sweat

The beat making my Diesels sweatThis is beyond my usual sceneUsually I can’t dance without regretNeeding a lot more alcohol & caffeineGlow sticks & the whole lot to lampoonI can’t live life with digitized crapMoving my body like an analog buffoonI need to find a pretty lady to sit upon my lapI spy one in

Life Should Have More Dancing

Life should have more dancing More twirls, laughs, dips, lifts & general glee We can make anything happen Once she comes home with me A dream can be a reality if she believes I know the passionate way I would hold her My own heart pumping infinite love Visions of slipping that dress off her

Confident In Print

Perhaps I appear confident in printThe paper expands arrogance’s pitchI can hide behind my words for a stintThough the return to reality can be a bitch

It’s Not Too Much

It’s not too much to ask forCold chilling to our bonesWhen we’re together forevermore Wrap yourself tightly, I imploreThrough love, we must atoneIt’s not too much to ask for Briskness recalls days of yoreNostalgia to which we’re proneWhen we’re together forevermore Battered ships upon the same shoreKnowing we’re never aloneIt’s not too much to ask

Feigning The Glamorous Life

It’s A Sparse Paradise These Days

It’s a sparse paradise these days Feeling another season coming on Not supposed to feel like this At least that’s the way we’ve been drawn She’s still the poor pretty rich girl Never could get off the same page Repeated struggles to survive Tripping on my lines; a vapid stage Reality is an emotion detached

Please Don’t Question My Reality

Please don’t question my reality You’re pandering to a common goal I’m eradicating acute boredom Freeing another fractured soul Redefining fantasy on a personal level The subtle witness under the veil Finding happiness outside expectation Wishing our dreams weren’t so frail

The Grand Rubbish

The grand rubbishThat we display hereOur soul’s bleedingHarking back to fearBut we push ahead& slowly exposeOur personal thoughtsFighting the reality of those Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay 

Simple Words Resembling A Memory

  Simple words resembling a memoryYour mind fallen into disrepairUnable to recall her by nameWe were infamous, kinda debonairForgotten all those sudden stepsThe dramatic part of the birthrightTaking intimate reasons to beReality hitting hard in hindsightKnowing where she was neededRemoved from the precise locationOften life wasn’t part of the planThough beauty found in the motivation

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

Disturbed Themes & Distant Thrombosis

Disturbed themes & distant thrombosisA hitch in your giddy-up when it’s time for teaTranscendental visitationsFrom dreams may come answers to our makeshift reality Pouring over the brackish tomes with devotionGentlemen & ladies of letters; luminaries of thoughtBut truth doesn’t cure our limited capacitiesBare harbingers of the illiterations we’ve wrought We’ve taken ill in our posh-marked

I’m Not Worried What You Think Is Silly Or Weird

I’m not worried what you think is silly or weirdI’m not concerned with judgements nor opinionated chatterThe world exists outside any of my controlI refuse to change & become another useless natterLet me continue on & be steadfast in being meThe strength of a persevering personalityShining on with a decorous grinJaunting forth; shunning your beliefs

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

Frida Kahlo

  “They thought I was a Surrealist, but I wasn’t. I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.” – Frida Kahlo               Image by Jinali Parikh from Pixabay