There are those secrets we whisper
& then there are the ones we keep
Compressed down, deep inside
The one that makes us cry as we sleep
We are all messed up creatures
Some days I might smile & think I’m well
But only I know the Hell simmering within
I’ll continue to rise, but some things I’ll never tell
Y’all, we have soccer moms trying to ban books
Wishing to shield things they don’t want you to know
But revolutions & thoughts just won’t burn
Intellect cannot be stopped, you merely make them slow
These fundamentalists get hot under the collar
When they see repression, they begrudgingly swoon
A weird fetish to extinguish ideas & desire
Appalled by anyone thinking of Love before noon
The censorious are coming for your hearts & minds
Seething with hate for anything silently inappropriate
Your Book declares thou with sin cannot cast thy stone
Minor scandals not so obscure when karma retaliates
Being fallacious isn’t as grand as it sounds
Yet, ya’ll out here in the streets committing slander
I refuse to pander to your anger & delusions
You’re just waiting to be shut in, unloved; smelling of dander
Do you ever find yourself lost within your misguided intent
I realize you’re genuinely hoping to shield the youth
But they don’t need your unfounded reservations
Nor do they respect your faulty judgement in hiding the truth
Please, cease & desist with your moral hubris
You’re foolish, stop before you fulfill the prophesies of 1984
You’re Orwellian without the perfect irony
But, you’re not ready to deal with the weight of evermore
Bradbury warned us about erroneous application of law
I can see we won’t keep our rights without a fight
Justice leading us into a deprivation of choice
You need to remember Jesus hung with ladies of the night
Within your imprudent latching, you’ve been misled
Matters not if you have delicate sensibilities, the Piper will get paid
I believe you to be rash, but I’m no one of any consequence
I may be deluded, but I believe you gotta get properly laid
Old Floridian parchment
Written histories upon ink stains
How to think within today’s tragedies
Wondering how any sanity can remain
We try to build ourselves back up
When the world tears itself down
The ruckus in the middle of silence
The tears when you can’t quite frown
Truth isn’t worth what it used to be
Righteousness has overtaken the price
We struggle to exist without persecution
They’re coming for you, even if we play nice
Intellectual mistresses
Words & ideas laced with stimulants
Coaxing my mind from sullen thought
Pulling me free from these malcontents
She caught me watching laundry dry
And imagining what’s underneath
Thinking to myself, how much more beauty
Lies hidden from view
That she might bequeath
I’m not your reluctant hero
I’m nothing along those lines
Don’t think so highly of a fool
With your lips crumbling into your wine
Please don’t raise me up to be much
I’m not what you see with your eyes
A figment of an imagination’s dream
I’m lost within these warm Florida skies
Time isn’t what it once was
No longer a never-ending resource
Now I feel the aches & pains
Groggy; consuming the steaming life-force
Wiping the startled sleep from my eyes
The attempts at a structured morning
Lost a step; hard to think these days
Age comes with little to no warning
I’ll allow you space to grow older gracefully
You are free to live however feels just right
I’m not one to interfere nor infringe
Just remember me before you blow out the lights
Let us not count, pluck nor dye the grey hairs
I’m going to love you long after life permits
Our souls commingling in the afterlife
With all that said, I’ll still think you have great tits
I’m not an artist, just a guy with a pen
Upon a lonely night, I started to write
I jotted down some rhymes for me
Teen angst channeled into the light
I’ve never looked back to think
I just keep writing over the decades
I don’t edit my feelings nor judge you
Purely an attempt for the soul not to fade
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
Knowing the sun will shine again
I sit here basking in the midnight air
A quiet sip from my enduring courage
Thinking naughty thoughts of my lady fair
Knowing I can’t sleep when I can write
I fall back into my imaginative stupor
Only to be shook by the dawn’s yawn
Daylight kicks me swift, right in the pooper
Delayed motion of her hand
Lost in thought; unable to translate
The slippery notion of time
Within the energy of a tangible fate
Let us remain discrete in our words
She tries to focus as I obnoxiously flirt
Concentrating on writing proper forms
Caught her unaware as I reached up her skirt
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
I know what you’re thinking
I’m clearly uneducated
Immature & mundane
Yeah, but under the surface
Is anything but bland
Collecting fresh faced girls with monogrammed asses
Spending the morning listening to the Blues
An old soul within that youthful mindframe
Toe tapping, blackout shades & misleading tattoos
I begin to think I’m the one lured
But all we have between us is coffee stained mug rings
Embrace the possibilities of the moment
Join in the beauty of desperate sorrow of BB King
This day is such a sunny tease
Through passion, we become another bedpost notch
A memory Today will keep for all posterity
As she makes me taste the glories of her vagazzeled crotch
I trace your lips with my finger
Such pouty perfection in this face
I want to devour you right here
But in public is not the proper place
So I whisper one word: “tonight”
& let you think upon that all day
You’ll stew & simmer & imagine
How all this love will be conveyed
There are those who think me boring
There are those who think me droll
But I take all their judgements in stride
For I must stay true to my own soul
Their queries do not make me stir
For I no longer have anything to prove
But you better grip these sheets
Lookin’ lovely, hope you’re ready to move
Wasted my youth, obeyed all the rules
I’m enlightened; I’ve learned with time
These days I may be old & grey
But I’m still better than my prime
Alone with my thoughts
Shut up in this temporary, two room apartment
Thinking through imagination
Rack my brain to conjure anything Heaven sent
Ink spilled, but nothing to write home about
Languished notions in an attempt at creation
Yet a vision of satire is all that I am
Craving a spark; anything to produce elation
Thinking of all those cowboy stories
Singing songs under a tree so shady
Virtuous heroes we can believe in
A life that attracts the prettiest lady
Transactionally stealing poetry from her diary
Thinking pretty thoughts, my lady crooner
Shedding our shared idealized past
Ravishingly disheveled from another nooner
These things are seldom spoken aloud
Angels sing out; no longer so distant
Breached actions distorting our thoughts
Heartbroken; leaving you feeling resistant
I’m out here worshipping my secular goddess
Looking for quiet now & avoiding unsolicited advice
Passion not always akin to pleasure
Focused to ensure my kisses are nice & precise
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
Writing down every & each detail
Compiling a list to rediscover
I’m trying to think, but it’s to no avail
A faceless gown with affectionate gloves
Somehow my mind is able to recall
Cognitive fragments begin to linger
Clouded out by last night’s alcohol
Scenes slowly begin to return
I believe we’re out on the dance floor
An embrace of smoldering desire
Yet I couldn’t figure out any more
Scraps of notes spread before me
No identity to place upon the truth
Scant reason to be shy in my search
Basking in honesty of my lapsed youth
Cobwebs have been sparsely lifted
Won’t think of her in the past tense
Her ghostly touch encourages me yet
We shall meet again, I firmly sense
To hold her with determined spirit
Seems fantastical at this sad rate
Yet she’s left fingerprints upon me
Remaining until I succumb to my fate
You give up your voice
When you choose to take their hand
You sacrifice your honor
When you go joining their faceless band
You deem yourself unremarkable
Once they take away your vote
No longer choosing for yourself
Their drudging spirit grabs your throat
The hoard directs you how to think
& can make you recite all sorts of things
You deserve your time in Hell
When you hand them your own strings
I’m too old to chase you
Regardless of beauty, understood
Taking a step back to see if you wish to continue
For I never want you to walk away for good
Times are tough- its not easy to love forever
I can’t guess how you feel or what it will take
But silence leads to a sharpened sever
I wish to stop this inevitable heartbreak
I’m not naive enough to think things shiny & new
But my pulse is weak; unsure what it can go through
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
Brushing the record as it goes ‘round
Morning comes faster when you can’t sleep
Sipping the tepid coffee down to the grounds
Delirious; mind wandering depths so deep
Trying to move your body; needing a gentle stretch
What more to be done when you can’t think
Misinterpreting grumpiness for ravings of a wretch
Settle down; give me a moment for another drink
They don’t have men
Down at the newspaper anymore
Dusty ages disagree
They’ve forever closed the door
They’re hiding the truth
In the time of an information superhighway
Where they locked away Dignity
They’re not telling, they won’t say
We’re on our own out here alone
You think we’re lost & have much to fear
Stranded under this desert sky
Be still thy soul, for I was born out here
Fluttering hearts on a broken trail
Do you know your own soul
Too many nights
Too many sad songs
Your mind sent off balance
Thinking cursed thoughts
Can you cleanse yourself
Any way to be free
So you think you want to be wild
But you’ve never left the city gates
Living within such structure
Organizing a lush, manicured fate
Pushing forth the semblance of influence
Yet, outwardly needing to create a scene
Dreaming of an adventurous existence
& what breaking free could possibly mean
This is where I’m lost
You have me bothered & hot
Though you’re hardly to blame
I’m thinking of your sweet spot
Memories of your beauty
My mind drifting off track
With you dancing softly
Though I’m here alone in my rack
Rereading Orwell and taking notes
Not going to be ruled nor romanced
By an adolescent philosophy
Anyone’s faulty & retched political stance
We need to think for ourselves again
Too many left for dead it seems
Generation of choreographed absurdity
& gathering the news by sharing memes
But I have faith we can regain our promise
By exposing kindness & compassion instead
It is possible to lead by inspiration
Instead of ruling by threats & dread
***
and another thing;
a note to those in power
we need to rename political parties
CSPAN is the lamest way to spend an hour
Sitting at the windowsill
Fingers stained by my ink
Face red & tranquilly humbled
Cold & tumbled; too frozen to think
The nights are dropping temps
I’ll need to do everything to keep warm
Though I’m unwrapping each layer
Eagerly embracing your gracious form
Life is a fine chance to love you
Trading kisses as I adjust your weary crown
Telling stories of our younger days
& the magic that happened in a little Arizona town
Image by Lou Blazquez from Pixabay
You don’t think you’re beautiful
Because of the pain you feel inside
Existence finds itself with a teetering lull
The path to happiness merely not identified
But you need to write your own dreams
Never settle for what others might demand
Seek out adventure & self-discovery
Find the surprising beauty of the unplanned
You don’t know me
You’re thinking an intellectual heavyweight
You’re imagining prestigious scrolls
But I’m still the Pirate they love to hate
A dapper fellow with impeccable manners
A literary tongue that makes the ladies shout
But I’m really a boring guy
A mere freshman dropout
Your painted lips upon the tea cup
A bountiful feast spread before you
A grateful life filled with laughter
There is nothing you wouldn’t do
Thinking of everyone else first
Within that most beautiful chest
Contains a self-sacrificing heart
Please know I’ll always love you the best
Thinking of that girl
With her legs crossed – just so
Such a lovely figure
Dangling casually – that I might know
Falling to my knees & kissing
Submitting myself to her perfect toes
She’s watching me
Trying to act shy & coy
She wants me to think
I’ll be her very first boy
She’s loving me
Sold on a negative trip
Acting so confident
Notice her exposed slip
She’s needing me
What a beautiful mess
Pick up her dreams
& her fallen dress
Fearful of those who cannot think for themselves
The mindless marching, trying to keep in step
Regurgitating rhetoric spewed by their masters
& because they cannot see their own chains, I wept
I’m standing under swaying palms
Holding a delicious boat drink
I especially like the little umbrella
Time away from life – don’t have to think
Smelling like lotion, salt & a sunburn
My soul has truly needed this rest
But without you here by my side
My heart is still a million miles from Key West
Typing, hacking, thinking – Smokin’ hot
Typing your best to empty all thought
Pouring your soul into force upon the keys
Your woman walks past with a dress above the knees
Now you can’t think or type or stammer straight
The hell with with deadlines – this one’s gonna be late
You pray to the spirits of procastrination or whatever you think of
Burn this project right now, sacrifice it in the name of love
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
Meandering down an etched path
With vines & foliage on all sides
The overgrowth keeps secrets locked
& provides the perfect place to hide
I know where I always wish to be
A forgotten realm; a place no one thinks to look
Reality, hatred & cruelty forever expunged
I’m safe here – alone in nature – me & a book
Trying out stories in the morning
Typing away on this ol’ machine
Thinking of something different
A genius the world’s never seen
But I can’t think of anything great
I guess I’ll get more coffee instead
I hear a whistle from my lady
I guess my love needs me back in bed
You think you need
Everything polished and packaged
Nary a wisp nor a stray note to linger
Jealousy breeds contempt
Searching for digital praise
But perfection is a myth
A trick played upon us by lesser Devils
I think you have the wrong notion of me
I could be wrong, but it’s what I believe
I’m neither the saint nor the villain
In which your notions are trying to achieve
I’m not nearly as arrogant as I portray
That’s merely the manifestation of a fictional role
I know confidence is sexy & I’m trying my best
But I have doubts regarding the quality of the contents of my soul
The winter is too warm
But it’s too cold for tanlines
The beach not quite deserted
But I think that’s just fine
I could use some freedom
But you’d just call that semantics
Splitting hairs when I’d rather
Be engaging you in some bedroom antics
You’d blush and slap my cheek
But that’s mere foreplay to me
I went kissing a little too low
That’s when you spilt your daiquiri
Rubbing their fingers over the stereo knob
The frequencies distorted on the airwaves
Kings of the new world & thus apocalyptic
Searching for something more pragmatic to crave
These technocrats with no concept of reality
Tasking – without offering an alternate fate
Demanding citizens for homages to be digital
With no power to control – or else we attenuate
Words of peace have the chance to amplify
Even when we’re feeling out of time/out of sync
Don’t need their fiber optic lies to survive
A blind man loses all when forced to blink
Tapping into a passion without any circuits
Our transistors are live; we’re lovers thus discrete
There’s no stopping us when their signal’s weak
There’s nothing but fire & sparks when our wires meet
This life is forever altered now we’re here
Do not attempt to adjust the squelch
You’re listening to Radio Free America
Standing proud & robust like Raquel Welch
Frayed cuff on antique khaki
Knowing thy state of dress
I wasn’t as dapper as she was used to
Hoping she wouldn’t think any less
He wasn’t any better than a prig
Her dance card drawing sideways looks
Quietly, she enjoyed my wicked tongue
& the way we shared our crooked books
Shaking the dust off our neglected spines
Certain steps lead to an awkward courtship
But faith in the power of pristine passion
That’s when I met her puckered cherry lips
Empty wine bottles clink; devoid of all inspiration
But that’s not the way you remembered they bled
Choosing the perfect wording for posterity
A trembling shadow of what the poets once said
We once set out to create a fresh universe
But that’s not the way I can any longer think
Falling in love with strange, beautiful women
The source & reason for all the dedicated ink
Our souls entwined in deliberate communion
But that’s not the way that I came to be lost
Specific writings to engrave our cosmic lust
Forever entombed within this highland frost
thinking nostalgic thoughts
on an empty stomach
rediscovering grunge tunes
stuck at home in a pandemic
remembering the pain of high school
couldn’t fit in anywhere
reliving dark moments
where it could’ve ended
remembering lost loves
& how warm they made you feel
but you know it wasn’t real
leaving you cold & alone
abandoned until life truly began.
I want to know the secrets
The ones you have buried deep within
I want you to whisper your love
Kiss me so long they’ll think it’s a sin
Running away from sunsets & goodbyes
Feeling the lead of stained windowpanes
These houses don’t hold strained memories
Washed away in the softening of Winter’s rain
I’m freely exposed in these dimmer days
Wrap me with the sound of rigorous hymns
I listen, but don’t fathom your parlance
I can’t keep up with your acronyms
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
I’ve been thinking about you
Draped in straps & buckles that push
Silks, lace & any cloth at all
Stretching thin across your tush
The day has been long & tiring
& your love is exactly what I need
Let my eyes devour every curve
No promise to be gentle in my greed
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
Floating amongst the blue
My bones drying in the heat
I’m still thinking about you
Relaxation, such a novel treat
Life cherished in these days
Not the change you wanted to see
Time ignored in many ways
I am sorry, for I am still only me
“True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.”
― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
“The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.”
― Coco Chanel
“I think the reward for conformity is that everyone likes you except yourself.”
― Rita Mae Brown
Captain Q 