I want to write But I don’t have the words So I watch the ink seep silently I know you’re thinking I’m absurd
So many empty notebooks To fill with small little doodles & swirls Intimidated by the stark whiteness I don’t know how to create lasting worlds
Pondering & delving into thought Present in my feelings with offerings to burn Slowly churning my fickle imagination In the hopes a bit of creativity might return
Waiting patiently for the Muse’s return
A pure idea to refresh the new day
Tepid sips off the scalding coffee urn
Molding a thought to quietly display
Translating emotion; an implicit admission
Each worthy of their own silent moment
Stretching ink in all the right positions
The journey of imagination with delicious intent
That time for announcing a thankful heart Admittedly, I’m luckier than I could know I’m grateful for a cozy home to return to She’s statuesque; putting on a show
A very fine housedress with cleavage peeking I can tell they’re lonely, in need of my kisses Alas, it’s not the time for anything more She’s busy, my housewife, my missus
I take her in my arms with tenderness This wasn’t the next task she had planned But it’s rather chilly outside How else shall I warm my cold hands
Finding refuge in my dreams Traipsing through Baudelaire’s flowers I sing a silent dirge to my soul Tracing her petals within Summer’s shower
Caught in the currents of missteps Former words no longer voiced Lightness of a delicate vision We heard the morning’s rain rejoice
Politely declining a dreadful umbrella Walking out, always been man enough to weep Soaked; tears all the way through Drowning; maybe now the sunset will let me sleep
Time to float off into another world
Close your eyes & drift forever away
Within silent storms of a castaway girl
Reimagining visions before finding the day
On the shores of Ol’ Patagonia While the citizens did sleep Youthful fear of affection Yet into the woods, they silently creep
Don’t let on how you feel For you might get what you want The pain of admitting you care & perchance it might forever haunt
The burden of carrying embarrassment & possibly feeling regret this long Thy youth’s clear true love But hindsight tells me I was wrong
For I wasn’t brave enough to trust Too busy being incorrect by name Fear welling into my soul But I loved her all the same
It’s not fair to bring up old times Immaturity & self-reject are not a virtue I don’t deserve her thoughts nor sentiments In the end, never good enough for you
Still thinking of what might’ve been Or an excuse to freshly misbehave Angst & teenaged awkwardness Take a shot & take it all to my grave
I’m the footnote to your memory Everyone will remember how you touched their soul I’m just the quiet guy in the background Working hard to help make your vision whole
I’m not the one to be seen nor heard But to fade away when they extinguish the lights Forgotten once the dream falls to recess Sealed once we find our departing flights
I never wished to distract from you I humbly serve your silent grace No aim to conjure something more Merely to bask in beautiful refraction of your face
Seeing that red sky on the horizon Knowing those clocks are about to tock Silent shanties are just lyrical runes A quiet prayer before we cross the dock
Treading lightly on the soft highway Searching onward for the Earthbound divinity Through the desert with the primal scream Broken decibels ring out, yet amount to infinity
Silver pistol tucked in drawer of hosiery Known to man only by a chintzy nom de plume I always preferred a thick bottomed almanac Slowed, but we have big energy to exhume
Dawn rises, yet the Truth still silently sleeps Looking for prophets in the glittering sun Too bright for our modern, mortal myopia Be still; be patient as time is not yet overrun
Another tepid morning, waiting silently Dawn yet to break, but my head feels that way These dog days lapse like a bit of purgatory Standing before St. Patrick with nothing to say
Teetering & more than slightly confused Checking my watch; praying its not too late Did my heart stop? How did I go so astray Jolted back- the Almighty’s nectar begins to percolate
Tip of the cap Nod of the brow To make contact But you don’t know how Falling by yourself Panties & dimes To savor this life Silently paid for our crimes
Our olden fantasies Not quite matching casual conversation The heart’s silent secrets Masked by our gilded incantations
A kind smile to hide our fears The dreams left by the tragic shore But there’s always a way back home To drink from the hopeful waters to finally restore
Battered old blank pages Waiting to be smeared by ink Disheveled by passing time Often fraught with more than we think Crisp white canvas no longer Absorbing life as a passerby So pause before you type A silent witness to these lies
Swapping Daisy Buchanan for Lady Brett Dreams & visions traded for a martini glass The swirls of ice resemble their hearts The disappearing notion of the dignified class So we raise a toast for decent luck These three olives constitute her daily menu Dancing off silently out onto the veranda Subtly becoming her own performance venue
Life rocks us silently Rising & falling with the boat Visions held most dear Within these stories I wrote Removed my choice of reality But here I’ll take my stand Firm between the swells With gentle reminders of Neverland
I’m tired, weary, fatigued, however you want to call it
This world is tearing itself apart, with no end in sight
Neighbors can’t stand the appearance of each other
If we don’t swerve, we’re all going to face the fiery night
Reject hate, reject them, reject the world’s system
I don’t care if kindness long ago went out of fashion
Don’t accept your options, make your own way
We need return to art, return to love & compassion
‘They’ are anyone who’ll tell you we can’t survive
Without stooping down to unconscionable degrees
Rebel, refuse & reclaim enlightenment & love
Lead ourselves away from their dysfunctional societies
God reserves a place in Hell for those who spout hate
Whether you believe in Christ or what Buddha taught
Love doesn’t see the differences between us
We can do better; a peaceful way must be sought
Politicians are no more than door to door salesmen
Fraudulent purveyors of the American dreamscape
But we, the silent underground, emerging each day
Fed up with their vision, proof that heroes don’t wear capes
Looking past clear stars Each universe has a split seam Stretch your fingers wide Leave behind your American Dream Be easy & think yourself free Our minds hold us back in chains Silently slip through the hole Never following you with their pains
Morning departures
A silent plane overhead
Black coffee warming
But I’d rather be in bed
Waking too early
Quiet village in my eyes
An empty mug
But it’s a pretty sunrise