It Is Not A Sin

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It is not a sin, no matter what they say
For love triumph over all — beyond how we explain
For truth is greater than words
Thus loyalty & devotion shall forever remain

I’m not worried what the preacher says
For he doesn’t understand our match
Too ancient to grasp our harmonization
He has his own itch he can’t scratch

All that matters is how we feel inside
True love is not a notion they can reject
Our bodies & souls eternally intertwined
Upon a higher calling our passion connects

Scratching Your Soul Upon The Page

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Scratching your soul upon the page
Following the seams beyond the thread
I don’t have the caffeinated gumption
So I’ll have to return to bed instead

Wandering through woven stories in my mind
Nib to paper is the only way I can meditate
Urgency of thought keeps me from sleep
Back to brewing; morning’s way to self-medicate

The Drippings Of My Mind

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The drippings of my mind
The office, a soul in paper mâché
Books & notes of imagination
A collection of stories we played

It’s a subtle knowledge herein
Years of experience slightly compressed
Nicks, faults & scars smoothed over
Though I remain unimpressed

Scratching away at this drivel
Nothing created in which to be content
Scrambling for fresh ideas
At this pace, I’ll never relent

Hearing The Horns Blow

 

Hearing the horns blow
Words formulating up front
The notes mean more
When the tone is blunt
I scratch out a song
Finding life between letters
I’d quit while I’m ahead
If I knew any better