A Fine Suited Man With Terrible Inklings

A fine suited man with terrible inklings Hands on her shoulders; easy to confide Pouring drinks & erasing her sadness Falling by the wayside with time & tide Beauty is merely a natural configuration Each button gone, an uncontrollable urge His intentions told with a silent tongue Embraced & now they lovingly merge

I Don’t Know What The Hell I’m Doing

I don’t know what the hell I’m doingI’m just trying to feel my way throughThis existence offers many pitfallsWorking within our struggles, those BluesThere’s only one way to survive hereYou’ve got to continue to fight your urgesFinding the right path to paradisePiecing together words to sing the dirty dirges

Seeing The Outline Of Curves Beneath Your White Shirt

  Seeing the outline of curves beneath your white shirtI’m trying to focus on the words you so eloquently sayI respect you completely, but I’m a weak manAllowing my primal urges to get in my mind’s way

Creep Villanelle 

Resisting the urge to flatter Never taking such a leap Beauty the heart of the matter Ignored in your idle chatter Left feeling like a forgotten heap Resisting the urge to flatter The thoughts come, but soon scatter Keeping me from peaceful sleep Beauty the heart of the matter Love served on a silver platterContinue reading “Creep Villanelle “