She’s Shakin’ Those Hips

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She’s shakin’ those hips
Drivin’ me wild with thirst
If I try to tag along
My mind’ll surly burst
Please loosen my tie
Could I have a slug of wine
If I close my eyes
Could she ever be mine
It’s a delicate inferno
Blazin’ through the night
I find myself dry
Only she’s in my sight
Vision’s gettin’ thick
Consciousness gettin’ deep
My soul to believe
She’s too salacious to sleep

 

Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay

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I’m Tired, Weary, Fatigued, However You Want To Call It

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I’m tired, weary, fatigued, however you want to call it
This world is tearing itself apart, with no end in sight
Neighbors can’t stand the appearance of each other
If we don’t swerve, we’re all going to face the fiery night
Reject hate, reject them, reject the world’s system
I don’t care if kindness long ago went out of fashion
Don’t accept your options, make your own way
We need return to art, return to love & compassion
‘They’ are anyone who’ll tell you we can’t survive
Without stooping down to unconscionable degrees
Rebel, refuse & reclaim enlightenment & love
Lead ourselves away from their dysfunctional societies
God reserves a place in Hell for those who spout hate
Whether you believe in Christ or what Buddha taught
Love doesn’t see the differences between us
We can do better; a peaceful way must be sought
Politicians are no more than door to door salesmen
Fraudulent purveyors of the American dreamscape
But we, the silent underground, emerging each day
Fed up with their vision, proof that heroes don’t wear capes

 

Image by Grae Dickason from Pixabay

A Wink from Her To Get My Heart A-Revving

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A wink from her to get my heart a-revving

Her pink negligee hanging below her knee

Soft skin turns into hardened intentions

The promise of a night of debauchery

A bouquet not desired, but a single bloom

Visions of adulation thoroughly taut

I’m rigidly attuned with her frequency

A fine suited man removing a Windsor knot

Fastened to my bedpost; a sailor can surely tie

Settling down with this libertine, methinks

A pretty picture of a delicious woman

Purely polished reflections in my cufflinks

Post coital; passion overflowing this room

Perfection amid people imperfectly real

Precious moments that I’ll never forsake

My woman’s love, allowing me to constantly heal

Perfectly Lined Rows Of Trees

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Perfectly lined rows of trees
Our escape from the mundane
Shaking away tilted visions
Of a ghostly morning train
Remembering her latent beauty
No place for such fickle motions
Return to living your current life
Set gently against the Atlantic Ocean