Drinking wine for old times’ sake
Swilling memories into miraculous rebirth
Our bodies are the height of impermanence
But we seldom understand what we’re worth
Drinking Wine For Old Times’ Sake
wine
We’re Painting The Roses Red
We’re painting the roses red
When I spill my bottle of wine
Laughing the silly words we said
Running through the sunshine
Gathering inspiration to write
Leaning against their picket fence
Together & the songs we recite
Friendship allows life to make sense
Broken Wine Glasses Sitting On The Ledge
Broken wine glasses sitting on the ledge
With a gentle, rolling view from the terrace
We embarrassed ourselves last night
Intent on copulating with the war bride heiress
The Carcasses Of Inspiration
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
Image by TastyCinnamonn from Pixabay
We Exist In A Fortuitous Moment
We exist in a fortuitous moment
Together in a Summery field
Sipping delightful wines
Writing verse on our intercollegiate yields
They want us to come in from the cold
But I’m not concerned about their rules
I’d rather remain isolated with you
Bosh to their arbitrary ordinances to reign in fools
Within Doctrines Of The Former Realms
Within doctrines of the former realms
Secular atonements when you cannot reap
Our distorted narratives no longer at the helm
Parched souls shudder when you cannot sleep
Notebooks wrapped in twine, lubricating my dreams
Thinly veiled entitlements, rushing to meet the golden hour
Misplaced refugees; tugging on our heart seams
Stomp on rose colored lenses/before the vine turns sour
Standing tall amidst populism, still reading banned books
Rejecting capitalism before you win a shopping spree
Your enemy’s dilemma might be worth a look
While upholding the realization of love’s prophesy
Embracing goblets of celebratory wine & errant notes
Time to return to glory; fire dance upon wooden boats
It’s Not About Me
It’s not about me
Focus away from my chipped soul
Fragile dreams creaked as I reach daylight
Caught in our midsummer’s lull
Drinking wine out of a teacup
This soul embarrassing when exposed
Hoping to numb our sensibilities
While we lay naked & juxtaposed
Waking Up, Smelling Of Love
Waking up, smelling of love
Sore & stiff from our imaginations
A late night of enlightened feelings
Letting moans be our primal narration
Accompanied by jazzy tones & chilled wine
Perfect decorations for our eternal passions
By any means necessary to ensure
That our mutual desire never goes our of fashion
Feeling The Cold Upon The Sill
Feeling the cold upon the sill
My wineglass perched just so
A stagger to my fragile swagger
I hid my love, but now you know
Still Sleeping On The Edge
Still sleeping on the edge
Your side is far too cold
The house feels empty
Without you here to hold
Never washed your lipstick
Off the wine glass at the table
I can’t lose everything I have
Missing you makes me unstable
The Only Remaining Dregs
The only remaining dregs
No longer comprehending sunshine
Somehow lost my sea legs
Damn, this must be some fine wine
Pouring A Tall Wine In The Fine Crystal
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
An Innocent Looking Soul
An innocent looking soul
Draped with an ethereal gown
Confident strides across the patio
With Eve’s revenge
Crisp air – like the first bite of a green apple
Obscured; knowing her nectar to be my cure
I watch her bosom swell
It’s not objectivization
For I worship her
Refreshed in waves
This transparent Victorian hypocrisy
Knowing all that ails
& an unseen wound
Yet morning crests
Pale orange sky forces it’s way through space
In the arms of naked trees
I’m celebrating femininity
Spring’s arrival in a sundress
As she teases me with breathless recitals
Our love not by design
But still goes well with NorCal wine
She’s Shakin’ Those Hips
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
Empty Wine Bottles Clink; Devoid Of All Inspiration
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
Midnight Arrives By Candlelight
Midnight arrives by candlelight
My imagination takes over as before
Secretive scribbles in an unlit corner
Wine & a woman coaxing me for more
Uncertain of what we should divulge
An intrigue for sure, this darling flower
I’m intimidated, yet oddly disarmed
Casually containing remarkable brain power
A smart woman in a beautiful exterior
Society isn’t prepared for this conglomeration
But I know a woman is at her most alluring
When engaged in interesting conversation
Waking Up To Exposed Sunshine
Waking up to exposed sunshine
I find myself easily seduced
Once I tried become a Stoic
But with my heart, it’s no use
I’m a hopeless romantic
But I try not to let anyone know
In this disheveled morning
I’ll have another merlot
I Poured You Copious Amounts Of Wine
I poured you copious amounts of wine
Frank was singing ‘The Lady Is A Tramp’
We danced until you went home on the train
Your dreams ended up being quite damp
Picking Up My Girl Along The Way
Picking up my girl along the way
A short enough skirt that’ll surely tease
Soft tones upon the extinguished day
Wine & song that I might forever please
Snapping fingers & popping buttons
Ample latitude that I might play her fool
Admittedly; for her touch I’m a glutton
My own words reveal me to still be uncool
My ravishing mettle giving her just cause
Subtly picking up her heels and hemline
This rakish spirit providing her pause
Exposing joy & unadulterated sunshine
Let Me Borrow A Glass Of Your Mom’s Wine
Let me borrow a glass of your mom’s wine
I get thirsty in these evening hours
Noticing silhouettes moving in the kitchen
Before too long I might need a quick shower
This humidity is slowly trying to roast me
I’m soaking wet & need fresh shirtsleeves
Her beauty wouldn’t exist without God’s consent
I’m merely appreciating that in which I believe
I’m Not Your Reluctant Hero
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
I Won’t Impress You
I won’t impress you
Doesn’t matter who you are
I drink cheap wine
But enjoy Cuban cigars
I won’t play that game
There’s no benefit to me
This heart is not for sale
Honest, humble & eternally free
Captain Q 