Old world sensibilities
Recounting how they used to exist in solitude
Before landing upon foreign shores
Bringing hostility & menacing attitudes
But we’re the aliens we’ve dreaded
The scourge has already been here
Talking heads with no shortage of breath
Keep reminding us who we should fear
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
Low evenings persistently intrude
Fancy parties & sensitive souls
Facades draped in lush decor
Strong mixed spirits don’t leave you full
Trashy nights with unseen acquaintances
Low cut blouses & nylon dreams in heels
Witnessing dancers locked in solitude
Push away the day
We don’t need another slow reveal
Look what the tide brought in
Floating back in the summer sea
Standing forthright upon the shore
Escaped, though equally free
Our lives governed by morality
No matter the direction of the days
Finding solitude a noble quest
Amidst the breeze, the palms sway
Oh, where does our journey end
Or begin, as it so often might seem
Futile attempts to erase the past
The unknown details of our dreams
The open road panders to a false escape
The mere opportunity to rewrite a sojourn
Jesus perambulating with Uncle Walt
Debating the path; perchance to learn
Shaky prospects in apportioned time
Manifest destiny teases Ginsburg & Kerouac
Further roads leading to ornate wisdom
& we keep it concealed out in the back
Thoreau mocking society with his solitude
Knowing alone is the greatest we could ever be
Thoughts come to us in gentle waves
That perhaps our visions should become the sea
A reinterpretation of westward expansion
Route 66 cross-contaminating Highway 61
All roads have never led us home
Emily tempting Death with her life left undone
The growing wisdom of our consumed space
Emerson’s penning pre-revolutionary blues
Introducing our souls to unrefined grace
The Good Lord providing Her unfiltered muse
Feeble humanity; lost across the tracks
Original sin that we’ve taken on the chin
Sifting thought; we might be welcomed again
But knock off the Devil’s dust before you come in
Avoiding those trendy spots
It’s just never been my style
I’m a bit more low key than that
No sense in unnecessary trials
Crowds are wildly irrational
I have no desire to submit myself
Let me recoil from this society
Contentment in solitude is my true wealth
“I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.”
― Albert Einstein
“Whosoever is delighted in solitude, is either a wild beast or a god.”
― Aristotle
Captain Q 