Writing sonnets for my beloved
But I cannot speak in pentameters
The lines & sentiment lost on my tongue
Erasing the stray marks upon the parameters
Mother Nature is exhausted
Discovering it’s time to hibernate
Humble beauty of the landscape
Folding into herself unto the infinite
Hearing the last strains of Autumn
But the air is still hot
Clinging to a customary belief
While we hide behind a fig leaf
But we all know leaves fall and rot
I don’t speak of the dark times
For I don’t know how to describe
Numb from the constant rows
Beating my head against the tide
All the while, I’m trying to keep in step
Attempts to parry everything exterior
Concurrent remedies do nothing
Resulting in the residue of the inferior
Intentions to escape these trappings
Quietly absconding along the coast
Ambitions to enliven another day
& thus a creation of a ghost
Taking time to exist in faded dreams
The errant thoughts of a noble mind
Our hands smoothing the stray lines
The margins left blank & us unrefined
Ripped pages scribbled with defaulted hope
We try to emerge from the harrowing sea
But what more can we write about love
The caution of trying to speak of what might be
The carcasses of inspiration
Wine glasses with Burgundy residue
Speaking to late nights & early mornings
Scribbles in the margin on the follow through
Feeling parched as I wake
Noticing your lipstick stains
Upon the rim of the glass
Reminding me of the dreams that remain
Bleary eyed, drinking the coffee grounds
Searching for a fate within the dregs
Fumbling over these typewriter keys
Lightheaded when I see your naked legs
Your smile is a distraction
But you pop a button & then one more
I’m at your complete mercy
Once the nightgown hits the floor
You didn’t sell out, you bought in At least that’s what you regurgitate But you, yourself, are a cog in the machine Grinding out this state sponsored hate You speak of crying in the streets Heartbroken your flavor of evil didn’t win But it’s a system of corruption throughout With each career politician speaking the sin Where did all our heroes & leaders go Driven out as the bureaucracy multiplies Buried the truth in all that paperwork We’re doomed unless the people rise Against these manufactured lies
Make sure you call her beautiful Don’t refer to her as merely ‘hot’ Don’t say tits or tatas Be respectful of all that she’s got
Be charming when you speak of your lady Be a gentleman; know how the game is played Don’t divulge any of her secrets When you shut your mouth; a better chance to get laid
Plastering the interweb with fragmented thought
Cultivating an insane kind of fame
Convincing an illiterate society
That you’re more than just a silly name
Penning out frivolously piddly odes
Basking in the lack of their attention span
Trying so hard to be cool, plus
Your slams make me not want to give a damn
The barely legible equivalent of an Insta-model
Don’t you know, writers write & speakers squeak
A farce played out in bits & bytes
Preying on the vapid, the stupid & the weak
You’ve grown your hipster beard
You fancy yourself as suave & dapper
But I know your dirty little secret
That you’re no PaRappa the Rapper
Picking out tunes from a lost childhood
Icons from an isolated life; memories fleeting
Can’t keep track of my overblown tragedies
My own imagination responsible for these beatings
My past is a weight, tugging at my fragile soul
Written missives, but she flew off to Ontario
Shunning my offerings for a comprehensive life
I speak of love, but she merely turns up the stereo
Speak up, stand up; announce to the world
Spread the news of truth’s availability
Don’t be shy; we’re all in this together
Easy now, no need to hate on my virility
I honestly distrust anything popular or sacred
Passing them by & allow them to hide
I have to figure it out 20 years later
Force-filtered through life & time & tide
Opposing magnetic poles claiming Orwell
Both deluding themselves he’s their saint
But he was human & all the related flaws
His divinity seems a little too quaint
We need people with a firm, decisive choice
No interest in your ineffectual, intellectual porn
There’s no time for pussyfooting around
We must find the truth & feed it to the bullhorn
Listening to Wollstonecraft on the radio “Don’t turn that dial!”, that’s what the DJ said Not tied to any system; I’m still analog I’m dangerous; so the advertisers pled
Hereditary responsibility to the common good Therefore I don’t believe what I’ve been taught I see y’all got opinions, from your suburban thrones & these school systems regurgitating corporate rot
Criminal malpractice leaves us with poor examples But we’ve seen far worse on both sides of the aisle Bribing the lowest common denominator for votes Rewrite history, but perhaps that’s not in your files
I’ve been cast off, labeled a subversive heretic But I’m easy – so I’m doing my best to unlearn To unwind these falsehoods they tried to entrench The slow burn; time to take candor for a turn
Rash choices based upon juvenile aesthetics The understanding that we all might partake Though one must know speaking the truth too loud Turns into testimony & they might burn us all at the stake
Even the poor can spirit an uprising Don’t speak to me of your pragmatic lever I’m not going to buy into your propaganda Never a card-carrying member, nor true believer
Pouring a tall wine in the fine crystal The fancy stuff from our Wedding day Leaving behind clothing as we speak Your look disregards anything I have to say
My eyes are up here, my beautiful Bride Please focus on my charm & wit I can tell you only desire one thing But first lady, you’re going to have to submit
What do I do with my words
How do I contain when they start to leak
Like the Little Dutch Boy
Who’s listening when I start to speak
But I can’t worry about the audience
I’ve got to keep playing my own tune
The steady groover with the proper notes
When it comes to our hearts, no one is immune
If you met me in person You’d think I was an uninteresting guy That I had no personality But the truth is I can be painfully shy But if you let my words speak I can flourish & blossom before your eyes There might be something worthy If only you can wait for the surprise
I can’t speak to you with an unbuttoned blouse I can’t stop dreaming about what might be My eyes drift as I’m quiet as a mouse I can’t help but objectify all that I see I’m trying to be your gentleman caller My purpose was to be on an even level But you have me squirming a little taller Falling for you again as you’re perfectly disheveled