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Late nights blend into early mornings
Up with the weirdos on the street Seeing visions where the shadows were My mind tripping; my instincts in retreat
All the sand has fallen from the hourglass
Dangerous curves when I’m confused Punching time clocks when I should slumber Paycheck feels light/ feel like I’m being used
Leaving my underwear in the middle of the floor
I need more, but its high time for bed To sleep, to dream; an impossible task Passing ships with everything left unsaid
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Waking amongst frozen palm trees
Inhaling air when its a mere shadow of a day
Hoodie donned; sipping coffee on the porch
Salt breeze causing the fronds to sway Like this: Like Loading...
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Sheets & reams of the nonsensical
Literary blood lost in the shadow of ink The lifeforce of a simmering soul Marginal hearts writing love against the kitchen sink
Leaving behind the caricature of an artist Contributions to society felt in these empty sheets Fingersmudges marking pages not so white Starkly exposed with revolutionary words in the streets Traces of hereditary ideals eroding away Igniting pages shall still be a stilted sin Yet we rise again from our desert floor Eternally grateful our finite letters aren’t porcelain Like this: Like Loading...
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Lost in the silhouette of a shadow
Emerging as the heat begins to recede
We cannot know what the day holds
Only the way our imagination feeds
Getting outside while the city still sleeps
Early, but I need to get air into these lungs
Darkness illuminates my quiet solitude
Exposing the songs we need to be sung
I feel lost & ineffectual most days
But I haven’t given up living yet
Stretching this old body once more
Finding answers once I’ve sweat Like this: Like Loading...
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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 Like this: Like Loading...
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Dowager Queen dressed like a nun
Looking for courtesies in murky nights
Whispering to me “this is gonna be fun”
Shadows dance in tranquil candlelight
I’m all in as she shucks her brassiere
Mixing metaphors with her gin
Titillated whenever she comes near
Pulling lace away from her original sin Like this: Like Loading...
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Answers lurking in the shadows
Though sometimes never found We may have loved & lost & our hearts forced underground There is always some eternal truth Traipsing back from your forgotten youth Like this: Like Loading...
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Gimme a minute till I look pretty
I don’t want to go out there without my cologne I can’t deal with the sketchy people You know, they’ve hidden away all the pay phones I don’t trust the Gov’t hiding behind rain coats The shadows are weary with their demodulation Open your windows to the rain – expect justice I shall bare my raw breast in hopes of emotional rehabilitation Like this: Like Loading...
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You don’t see me when you look my way
Like a ghost – I just don’t seem to appear Faded into the background of life Unable to compete with all you hold dear
My kind smile & open arms aren’t a reality
Merely static in your fashion-conscious day I’m over here trying to catch your eye Yet my shadow is not even in your way
What more can I do to attract you
The uncool of America
Not enough flash Eagerly & quietly industrious But we’re still short on cash
You’re out here ridin’ high on your horse
I’m down here with my heart broken You’re clearly oblivious to my existence I wonder if you’ll ever be woken Like this: Like Loading...
Unlocking inspiration in the night
Emerging from the shadows & dark places Rising from a migrant slumber New life without any of the fragile traces
A travesty banished to the past Along with all heartache & fear Endless scribbles upon discarded paper The truth within ink stains & pencil smears Like this: Like Loading...
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Your idols weren’t half the men
They thought they were half a bottle in
Cowardly hiding behind unjust traditions
Sinning while gulping juniper medicinal gin
Their women languishing in the shadows
Cast off from any chance to reach the light
Yet those damsels can see through the dark
The perfect heroine to save an errant knight
Misconstrued notions of dynamic parity
Swabbing the deck with your fallen idol
Ink smudges & literary drudges
Methinks – their mothers should’ve used spermicidal Like this: Like Loading...
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Won’t sit idle, watching from the sidelines
Letting the Man throw away the key
Remaining passive in the Shadows All because I have the improper pedigree Like this: Like Loading...
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The glories of an impractical woman
Naked branches casting shadows on my door Finding life blossoms with the in-between Knowing coming days will provide for more Like this: Like Loading...
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Empty wine bottles clink; devoid of all inspiration
But that’s not the way you remembered they bled
Choosing the perfect wording for posterity
A trembling shadow of what the poets once said
We once set out to create a fresh universe
But that’s not the way I can any longer think
Falling in love with strange, beautiful women
The source & reason for all the dedicated ink
Our souls entwined in deliberate communion
But that’s not the way that I came to be lost
Specific writings to engrave our cosmic lust
Forever entombed within this highland frost Like this: Like Loading...
Gripping lightly to the banister
Our lives slipping away into the ether’s shadow Gracefully stepping down each marble step Never succumbing to their expectations of the afterglow Holding your head up high in dignity Wear the fancy clothes; wear your favorite scent Knowing they’ll despise your happiness anyway Remaining this awesome was never an accident
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