
I know you no longer read my words
But I’m still sending notes into the air
A simple handwritten melody of love
May they float away & one day you’ll be there
I know you no longer read my words
But I’m still sending notes into the air
A simple handwritten melody of love
May they float away & one day you’ll be there
Feeding page after page into the typewriter
I feel like a Saint from a forgotten realm
They could really write back then
Keeping an even keel with one hand on the helm
I’m not the pirate you bargained for
Simple words of varying degrees
I write of the love you’ve desired
But when I only smile, you call me a tease
The small sips after a long day
The setting sun & the horizon’s gone
Relaxing quietly in the simplest ways
Left to retreat until the impending dawn
On a clear day you can see Fuji
I think that’s what Streisand said
Riding trains toward Shinjuku
Existence hanging by a thread
Bundled in these foreign streets
So simple we often tend to forget
Life-changing inertia rolling along
A tempered life without mixed regret
I’m a man of simple tastes
Minimal ego to get it right
Deference to scotch & red meat
& the same woman to bed at night
Simplistic attempts lurking beneath
But rejecting the notion of captivity
Breaking chains & spreading your legs
Blinded by your own claim at depravity
Finding the energy to jump up
To start the day in the sunshine
Collecting smiles from fresh faces
& always returning to the love that’s mine
Pouring another coffee to revive my soul
The blacker the better; deeper than the sea
Knowing secrets which youth will always deny
That happiness is real & it’s forever free
Nonsense & miscalculations they always spew
For they see glitter & everything they never tried
But experience will tell you simple is better
& anything worth fighting for is kept on the inside
Image by Alexander Belyaev from Pixabay
Hiding under the guise of tradition
A small man standing atop a pagan tower
Embracing ancient laws full of flaws
From which you exert all your immoral power
In a reversal & dissent from my juvenile thought
I dismiss such thought as stale as Babylon
There’s no place in a progressive society
For mindsets as negative as an electron
I’ve learned a lot in my time here on Earth
Now I know what gets her hotter than Wasabi
It’s as simple as treating women as equals
Instead of deepthroating the code of Hammurabi
Don’t look her in the eye
For it might tip your move
Just a simple guy
With nothing to prove
She wants nothing from you
& your humble ways
Society envies her
Stack that against the strays
Don’t show her any interest
& she’ll question her worth
Twisting this back on you
Like you’re the last man on earth
Keep to yourself
Don’t be any more than polite
She’ll come calling
With a need for you to quench her plight
Simple words resembling a memory
Your mind fallen into disrepair
Unable to recall her by name
We were infamous, kinda debonair
Forgotten all those sudden steps
The dramatic part of the birthright
Taking intimate reasons to be
Reality hitting hard in hindsight
Knowing where she was needed
Removed from the precise location
Often life wasn’t part of the plan
Though beauty found in the motivation
Image by Peggy und Marco Lachmann-Anke from Pixabay
A woman of interest
But she couldn’t comprehend
Dismissing my words
Like my missives of love could ever end
She called me droll & simple
But I yearned for her feminine pleasure
Astounding all expectation
The greatest of my Pirate treasure
Beyond all your common tales
This woman; finer than her humility
Beauty isn’t a rational equation
Though her logic doesn’t equal tranquility
Let me get out into the world
While everyone else is still in bed
Let me move these old bones
I need to get fresh air into my head
Too many stagnant mornings
With nothing to show for the exertion
Feeling low in my spirits
Like I’m a soul still prone to desertion
I need to discover a permanent solution
To rid my life of heartbreak & pain
I don’t want to struggle anymore
Results from my effort & not simply remain
Knowing the bottom of the depths
Untold theories where passion lies
Encased all in a delicate French lace
The truth that logic & gravity defies
Earthbound creatures can’t be understood
It’s simply not in our fallible DNA
Attempted in conversational tones
But we’ve lost connection anyway
Trying to find a way back to the meaning
Reason doesn’t apply to moments like this
Disregard the pressures of our past
That we might create our own sustainable bliss
Image by Dayron Villaverde from Pixabay
But the simple fact is grace is unearned
We live our lives as if we’re undeterred
Ignorant to sin & repercussions thereafter
Yet hoping for the winds to remain unstirred
Truth & love are bound to our dreams
The inconvenient reality of the harsh pain of day
Trudging through our irksome tasks
Bright light stuns us into a stuttering delay
Fall to your knees in complete repentance
Submit your soul to the warmth of His sunshine
Release the burden of mortal expectation
Forever embrace the perfect love of the Divine
Telling stories after dark
Occasionally with Tom Waits in the lead
Fantastical little allegories
Bringing a light to those souls in need
No need to whisper in the shadows
Luminous words to prepare the way
Removing barriers to our enlightenment
Witticisms fleshed out & on display
Short tales to get creative juices flowing
Harking back to dreams that we might meet
Subtle differences between the pauses
Allowing our imaginations to properly greet
Scenes from our own round table
Foreplay within our cheeky banter
Conjuring visions of a keen passion
Diluted memories at the bottom of our decanter
Bad behavior leads to a more examined life
Though through fiction we can live eternal
A little more sensitive than you want to believe
Yearning to be held by a beautiful dame so maternal
Out here with our hearts raised to the sky
Searching for better answers on the midnight shore
With the freedom to imagine wisdom laid bare
Parsed theories for when we sent them off to war
Subtle manipulation within our romantic esthetics
Unreliable narrators marching; our literary brigade
There’s no vernacular for hearts’ folly
Pushing forth our gentle notion love might persuade
In the end, dear friends, our parable is contrite
In this heinous world, we all have a simple choice
I lay myself to slumber, a fatigued sailor
Wishing for a lullaby coming from Nick Cave’s voice
Image by Eli Digital Creative from Pixabay
I’ve traveled the world
& I keep returning to the same notion
I’ve seen interesting places
But I never again want to sail the ocean
My simple truth is that I’m content
I’ve found a good life; that should be clear
The grass is never greener anywhere else
We’re on an amazing course; we shouldn’t veer
There are so many opportunities
I would never close any of those doors
I don’t ever want to let go of your hand
Now that I have & forevermore come ashore
My fetish is powerful women
Standing proud in front of a crowd
Holding court with authenticity
Firmly entrenched without having to get loud
Mesmerized by the way she carries herself
Controlling me with a compassionate glance
She’s my incandescent muse
My reason for believing in happenstance
She’s regal without being out of touch
Properly expressing how it feels to be real
But I know she’s never going to give in
No matter our depravities, she will never kneel
Containing the ability to remain soft & lovely
While always making me hard
She can be inconvenient to worship
Not a plot point, won’t let you simply discard
Who am I to say no?
When she asks me to open up for the Queen
I’m the victim of my own volition
But I love it all, if you know what I mean
Returning to the world
Finding life left unraveled
A smile never so grand
Home the best place traveled
Warmth of simple comforts
Never trading precious delights
Beauty in these open arms
Darkness eclipsed by light
Hot.
That’s all I can think about you
But I’ll restrain myself
Such notions simply won’t do
Lovely, gorgeous or beautiful
I choose to roll off my tongue
You deserve to be treated better
Your praises shall be sung
Returning to simplicity
Tossing out these fledgling fates
Stunted growth increasing these days
Hindered by our technological rates
I don’t want to watch my soul wilt
I want to break free & soak up the sunshine
I’m through with this culture of victims
You’ll hear the dial tone & know its mine
I don’t need all that chaos
I’m content with simple taste
Up early in the morning
To ensure the day isn’t a waste
A prayer, a pen & a book
Foundations to a solid grin
Society can’t take it from me
In control as the world spins
Trying to find the proper tense
& then his anger rises
Can’t deal with these people
Mirrored statements of all he despises
Simple logic wasted around here
An abyss filled with what they don’t know
Shocking & devastatingly stupid
Then you realize they’re all a show
These stories are figments of hope
Simple words from a mind of an everyday man
These theatrics of an unknown sort
Living through each day without scope or plan
Journey to the water’s edge to find a salve
To bathe our souls in God’s great sea
I’m not close to your idea of perfection
But I’m forgiven; a better concept to be
Perfect tags & titles
Simple little names
Fitting nicely into a box
You should be ashamed
How long did we fight
For the people to be free
You fold under pressure
Not the way it’s supposed to be
“Home is the nicest word there is.” – Laura Ingalls Wilder