On A Clear Day You Can See Fuji

Photo by Nguyen Khac Tien on Pexels.com

 

 

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

It’s Been A Long, Hard Ride

Photo by Martin Alargent on Pexels.com

Its been a long, hard ride
To get where we’ve found
Bumps & bruises are everywhere
Keeping our souls on solid ground


There’s a small humility
Hidden within the secrets of Spring rain
Heartache never fully goes away
But what made you take a Westbound train


There’s no escaping the pressures
But by embracing love we’ll be able to cope
Turn towards the hearts that beat for you
Open your eyes, know there’s always a semblance of hope

Midnight’s A Fine Time To Take The Jacksonville Train

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Midnight’s a fine time to take the Jacksonville train
Rolling double boxcars to decide our fate
Gotta get back to my lover’s bedside
‘cause women like that don’t hardly wait

Been dreaming of her since the days of steam
Finely dressed woman with incalculable sense
I’m lagging behind schedules & timetables
Hindered by a world of devastating pretense

Spellbound, in the terminal cloister, trying to keep track
Our destiny dwindling, chanced by the tumble of dice
Fearing snake eyes when we need eleven
For lightning isn’t going to strike us down twice

Separation has me feeling on the edge of sincerity
Bleary eyes blinked time & again for some sanity
I’m not emotionally set up for these tribulations
Fear of failing, yet no marks upon my frivolous vanity

Memories of forgotten moments in the text
Perhaps it’s time for me to remain fully alert
But I can’t ignore how my insides churn
The notions of the woman so beautifully pert

It’s risky to return my heart for ante
Somewhere she’s loosening her bustle
This venture is getting out of hand
When she’s applying her legendary hustle

Pulling into the station, I know my lot
A few hours late; enough for passion to be reclaimed
I’ve tried my best, but crapped out again
In my weakness, I become loved; that’s when the angels came

Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay

Flaming Sauerkraut Stud Muffin

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Flaming sauerkraut stud muffin
A condensed version of radial glory
Knowing full well where life begins
The translucent strands of our story
Calculating Parisian jazz statistics
Veiled through the rummy, filtered grime
Distance equals an unfettered stump
When satisfaction measured in Lycra & time
Logbooks; surmounting the tepid schedule
All aboard the mourning run of the downtown train
Sunrise catching your weary eyes
Early summer rain prepositions our inaugural hurricane

 

 

 

*I was bogged down and couldn’t write so I just started writing nonsense until I was inspired to create something. It is what it is.