Rigormortis of the soul
Dejected along emotional failings
Tempered seas begin to roll
White knuckles; hold fast to the railings
Sorting feelings like a rolodex
Trampled yearning from Jaguar years
Unprepared for survival
Causing the most elaborate of your fears
Processing out foreign memories
But the answers just get in the way
Undisciplined in self-diagnosis
A sturdy smile in the face of the seaspray
The drippings of my mind
The office, a soul in paper mâché
Books & notes of imagination
A collection of stories we played
It’s a subtle knowledge herein
Years of experience slightly compressed
Nicks, faults & scars smoothed over
Though I remain unimpressed
Scratching away at this drivel
Nothing created in which to be content
Scrambling for fresh ideas
At this pace, I’ll never relent
Trying to overcome an existential crisis
Harking back to those foundational years
Emerging out of my own wounded shadow
Striving headlong into those ancient fears
Transitionally limping along these days
But my injuries aren’t those to be seen
Nor the stretch marks upon my soul
Yearning for the notion of becoming clean
Throughout it all, forever fond of the Blonde
Woman, hold me close to your breast
Tell me this life is going to be all right
That together, entangled; we’ll always be blessed
The clouds descend upon us
Stress compounding at this time of year
Getting darker as the days build
Waxing upon the fruition of fear
This world is a bloody hell
A disaster proven before the ink dries
Scorn for a distant foundation
Futility in which all hope slowly dies
The darkness returns
Looking for a story to wryly begin
Miscommunications falter
& I wade through my vermouth & gin
Image by Peggy und Marco Lachmann-Anke from Pixabay
Captain Q 