Ducking My Head Between The Pages

Ducking my head between the pagesThis mounting pile – high on my deskPicture postcard from the far goneLost her to traveling’ roadside burlesque Hiding my mind between the sheetsBut my coffee had long grown coldWritings spilled slightly on the saucerLoneliness steeped until its forever bold

Evading Their Ongoing Tragedies

Evading their ongoing tragediesForty summers spent down in the dirtWithstanding the weight of apocalypseEmerging; though slightly less overtBlast furnace of the afternoon sunDali walking barefoot on Tampa’s shoresPale riders within unabsorbed lightEmbracing purity through perception’s doorsThe paint of our secret love notesBut can only be read through the keyholeShying away from all public renditionsHer passionateContinue reading “Evading Their Ongoing Tragedies”

It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn

It was a one-eyed kind of morn With evening’s festivities going awry I scrawled out all I could remember Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy Slight images of a lovely form Olfactory sparks upon my brain Sketching the party’s guest list But no new faces could remain Racking my skull for a proper memory WritingContinue reading “It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn”