Many a boy – quick in his view
Looking for the easy girls of a soft dawn
Those who are comely & always giggle
With an fresh smile & seldom else on
They know not the pleasure of true joy
The beauty of engaging an active mind
The coaxing out of the right words
An equal in intellect you might find
But I, who finds himself at sunset
Have indeed heard the siren’s voice
& the pleasure of being selected
By a grown woman’s choice
Philosophical integrity
You’ve got to find the right course
Hope & love
You’ve got to get up on the right horse
I’ll allow you space to grow older gracefully
You are free to live however feels just right
I’m not one to interfere nor infringe
Just remember me before you blow out the lights
Let us not count, pluck nor dye the grey hairs
I’m going to love you long after life permits
Our souls commingling in the afterlife
With all that said, I’ll still think you have great tits
Knowing the sun will shine again
I sit here basking in the midnight air
A quiet sip from my enduring courage
Thinking naughty thoughts of my lady fair
Knowing I can’t sleep when I can write
I fall back into my imaginative stupor
Only to be shook by the dawn’s yawn
Daylight kicks me swift, right in the pooper
Trying to overcome an existential crisis
Harking back to those foundational years
Emerging out of my own wounded shadow
Striving headlong into those ancient fears
Transitionally limping along these days
But my injuries aren’t those to be seen
Nor the stretch marks upon my soul
Yearning for the notion of becoming clean
Throughout it all, forever fond of the Blonde
Woman, hold me close to your breast
Tell me this life is going to be all right
That together, entangled; we’ll always be blessed
Ran out of highways
So I took to the sea
Rejecting society
Not for them to decree
It’s lonely out here
Writing by starlight
Don’t have the answers
But I know what’s right
I have no right to her intentions
No claim on her attention
The pure choice of how to be
She always was & should be free
Autonomy of the soul, if we forgot to mention
Coffee’s the right temperature
A casual moment in my nook
Perusing over my copious notes
That one day need to be a book
Not for my sake or the world’s
But these characters yearn to be free
They’re tapping upon my mind
My course to sanity & their right to be
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!
Hymns for modern children
A return to morbid fairytales
Truth being slowly digested
Compassion when beauty fails
Lost in this troubled society
Where equality goes to die
Slaughtered dreams
& a speck in your brother’s eye
Life can be tough, harsh even
It seldom matters if you’re right
Morality often seems hijacked
& then they bid you a sweet goodnight
The world can only hold so many poets
Woefully claiming Bukowski as their inspiration
Worshiping a habitual womanizer & drunk
Answering questions with little to no imagination
I’m doing my best to fill up the lines & empty spaces
With these ink splotches spreading upon the page
Distinct notions of what I believe to be right
But I’m only displaying the curmudgeon side of my age
Shove off from those heroes & clip art stick figures
We need fresh voices with an authentic feel
No more grave-robbing stale words & artifacts
We need to release the future & embrace what’s real
I search for hope in the early morning
Trying to find truth before first light
Without the influence of assholes
Perpetually kept themselves in the right
This absurdity of life
Fallen into realms beyond our thought
But still we shine on for the future
This isn’t who we are; let us believe not
We can change the status of time
& act not out of debilitating fear
That we might find a way to be better
Cast out hate & return to being sincere
I went for a walk in the predawn hours
I could feel something wasn’t quite right
’Twas a red sky morning/sailor take warning
Amiss; something’s gone bump in the night
There was a time I went walking in the woods
Fatigued; this existence has become too tense
It was there I encountered the damned zombies
They stole my peace along with my sensibility & sense
Now, I don’t do much walking outside of the wire
If I must, I seek protection from my Heavenly Lord
I never fail to bring along a prayer upon my lips
& in my hand the weight & might of the Wu-Tang sword
*found this graffiti in Wilhelmshaven, Germany in 2017
Watching you from a distance
Your nylons making me squirm
Trying to find the right position
Pants uncomfortable when I’m firm
I can’t look away from you
Don’t tell me to be more mature
My mind starts wandering
& you’re my favorite provocateur
But he never learned how to read a book
Or even the right words to steadily consume
Never expect anyone to be your savior
For intelligence, you gotta make the room
One must be a seeker
To discover unique truth amongst the thorns
Head down, hiding that grime I feel inside
I’m intelligent, yet not enough to forewarn
Trying to eek out a stable existence
With all these storms heading my way
But you have to want to be something more
Never content at the beginning of the day
We’re bordering on anarchy
With the streets continuing to seethe
This communal madness
Fighting for our shared right to breathe
But I have a long forgotten confession
Which will leave you confused & aghast
Tacked to the back of a soul’s liberty
Forever within the defense of our contrasts
The voices come calling
Like shattered visitors in the night
Darkness expunged within thought
Auditioning words; trying to get it right
Vapid orations coming from the podium
Stacks of the wrong books & loose leaf notes
The dumbing down makes a tedious existence
But ideas are the traditional spark of an antidote
Incomplete rants are broken thoughts
Antique shutters dangle in the breeze
Vaccinated by expired truth serums
Eye twitches; our hostess is ill at ease
Yet remaining upright on the page
Our fate wrapped in a trickster’s charm
Subtle strokes without remorse
Only dried ink leaves us disarmed
Subverting all the easy answers
Sacred is our fundamental right to choose
However your speculations drift
Cut the devil’s throat and wrap him in Winter’s hues
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing
I’m just trying to feel my way through
This existence offers many pitfalls
Working within our struggles, those Blues
There’s only one way to survive here
You’ve got to continue to fight your urges
Finding the right path to paradise
Piecing together words to sing the dirty dirges
Those words come to me in those coffee dreams
A spontaneous marvel of literary delight
There’s a difference between manufactured beauty
& a real beauty, founded by nature’s authentic right
But I can’t explain the nuances with the definition
I’m not one to judge such subjective whims
Focusing on my own qualms & dangling thoughts
Let us sit, pour another cup, let’s solve these problems
I’m not bothered by such trifling issues as rules
Let them worry about my intents & being misconstrued
I let my chosen pages explain all I’m willing to
I’m more concerned if that pot has finished it’s brew
Outlandish wizards’ duel
Mixing bourbon & theraflu
Hell or highwater
We’re gonna fix you
Potions & laboratories
Possible twitch or dull pain
A swig of this or that
You’ll be feeling right as rain
I don’t want your descriptions
For they mean nothing to me
I refuse to be your inscription
I’m gone – I already set myself free
“There’s nothing like deep breaths after laughing that hard. Nothing in the world like a sore stomach for the right reasons.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Captain Q 