Running A Finger Upon The Spines

Photo by Juan Pablo Serrano Arenas on Pexels.com

Running a finger upon the spines
Treasures of unrequited wit
It can be difficult to wear a smile
When you always feel like shit

Fingerprints on the dusty shelves
Disfigured; in need of some rest
Looking for inspiration in the pages
Slowly drowning despite doing my best

Surviving By The Bright Light of Day

boards-2040575_1920.jpg

Surviving by the bright light of day
Pouring coffee directly into my weary eyes
Can’t sleep at night since I must remain alert
Anxious; trying to hide my soul’s invisible cries

Gathering my wits to merely successfully exist
Waiting for the other shoe to drop & Hell to begin
Tired of cowering away in forgotten silence
Appearing strong since no one sees the enemy within

& So I Taught Myself

Photo by ArtHouse Studio on Pexels.com

& so I taught myself
Digging deep into classical books
Borrowing from their bright words
Until some knowledge overtook


Then I broke free of their grip
Slicing my own path & charging off
I sit by the fire, gathering my wits
I block you out – you merely scoff


I don’t care for your opinion
You regurgitate falsehoods & lies
I’m running through the wilderness
& now I’m the Lord of the Flies

I’m So Happy, I’ll Dance You A Jig

Photo by Mieke Boogert on Pexels.com

I’m so happy, I’ll dance you a jig
With my eyes open, these dreams so big

Still living this life with childhood eyes
Truth always revealed as the tears dried

Sailing ships, battered by wind & storm
Ignoring reason, logic & the accepted norm

Life gets hectic, it’s often a terrible mess
Never grow up, push past into happiness

Fairy influence & the magic it might behold
Let us go now & create a story that’s yet untold

Where love & insanity will always meet
The freedom within our wild heartbeats

Close your eyes, finding something lost
Your favorite memory forever embossed

Tossed into slumbering pages of a book
Captive audiences held by Captain Hook

The golden cutlass, the prize of his plunder
Sharp, but wit marks our Boy Wonder

The best things in life are never planned
Without remorse, we return to Neverland

There Are Many Fancy Writers

img_2009

 

There are many fancy writers

Those who are great, they’ve decided

Elegant illustrations & plunging necklines

But hubris is often one-sided

There are many arrogant writers

Quick with the wit they’ve decried

Moans of pain suited to their fame

Loving with one eye open it’s often implied