Laissez Faire


Good morning, Beautiful

I’ve brought some coffee to share

Bathe me in your deep caresses

Make me abandon my laissez faire

Intentions have never been pure

I exist in complicated ways

I believe in healthy love & lust

& setting fire to our communiques


Speaking Of A Love Across Centuries




Speaking of a love across centuries
Time is no hindrance to our eternal fate
Passion, affection & a smile go a long way
When you’re kind, there’s no reason to retaliate
Finding a peace within your skin
The perfect location to finally & truly disrobe
Clocks of sand will never understand how I feel
For in doublestep, I’ve been forced to sail the globe
A true believer of what we could forever be
Eventually I’ll see my end, but it won’t be their doin’
Immune to the judgements & snide remarks
Hand in hand, I know our embrace protects us from ruin

Cold Honest Truth



“I don’t view that résumé as negative. I see it as an honest description. It may be a cold description, but it’s a mere truth. It is neither positive or negative. They’re just 2D words and the real you is a complicated, 3D being.”

“You’re not making me feel better”

“What do you want me to say? I’m trying to put this in the most honest way I can.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t see it as a flattering portrayal of me.”

“But you said it! They are your words. Why don’t we just rephrase them?”

“Because they are the truth.”

She stood before him with her hands in the back pockets of her denim cut offs. She wore a little tank top that accentuated what she had. Her behavior could be defined as antsy. She squirmed a bit too much. It was flirtatious without any intent. She was ripe to be taken advantage of. He realized all this. He tried his best to keep his focus on her eyes and the subject at hand. But they were beautiful green eyes…

“Look, I’m not going to sit here and go over everything that is positive about you. You know most of what I’m going to say anyway. I know you’re smart enough and have been hit on enough.”

“I’m not trying to get compliments out of you. I just don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to believe me. In fact, your opinion doesn’t matter at all. The only opinion that matters is that of the guy who is lucky enough to get chosen by you.”

“No one is wanting me to choose them, as you say.”

“Just stop. Please, just stop.”


“I’m trying to figure out if you’re innocent enough to believe your own words.”

“I’m not lying!”

“I didn’t say you were. You just have a block to where you can’t see the real you and the good things about you.”

“I think I could agree with that.”

“Good, then just listen to me and believe what I have to say.”

She looked back at him, trying to see something in his face. She wanted to find the secret to how he could see so much good in her. It was polar opposite to her own reflection. It amazed her that he could see past all her flaws and find what it was that he locked into.

“I’ll try.” She released a loud breath of pent up frustration. It was as if she let the burden of her own self doubt go. She would do her best to think positively and embrace her assets.

Pour Me Some Scotch

Pour me some scotch, I’ll tell you a story
This one full of thriving drunken louts
Seafaring strangers searching for loose women
Under these conditions, love is often on the outs
Ladies and gentlemen, please let me continue
Twas not I, for the saloon singer’s song
Melted her heart & it not my fault
You cannot blame me for his doing wrong
I too was blinded by the sparkle of the ring
I too was victim when that ship went down
Tilt your eyes back to who you know it is
In the dark corner of midnight rests the sad clown


Back To The Island… 🌴🌞🍹

I’m going to be away from civilization for a short respite.


These are from previous business trips…


One must make the most of life’s hardships.


I’ll repost some older works in the meantime.

I wish you all the best until we meet again!

Cold Coffee & A Stash Of Lost Dreams



Cold coffee & a stash of lost dreams
A distant memory of those rail yards
But we weren’t ourselves with honesty
Not the renegades or anything that hard
Images of what we might yet become
Grabbing self-regard before it fades
Destroying their notions of modernism
Returning to simpler times & dark shades
We all have our morbid skeletons
The vague semblance of a broken soul
But somewhere are the clues to the truth
Somewhere when lightning meets a weary, old skull

Condo Life


She returned the handset to the cradle on the wall. “That was Jerry. He asked if he could swing by and pick up that book.” She said, pointing to the entry hall table.

“When?” I replied, not looking up from my laptop.

“I don’t know, maybe ten or fifteen minutes?”

“I better put on something appropriate then.” I remained on the end of the couch. I kept typing away.

“Your choice. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

I shot her a glaring look. I didn’t need to hear about Jerry again from her. His eyes lingered. Bit too long for my comfort. He was a really nice guy, but there was something a little off. I can’t explain it. I just something I felt.

“I’m going to check the mail. Do you need anything from downstairs?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay, I’ll be back.”


I focused on a manuscript. It was another project that needed to be turned in. I had been behind schedule for a little while now. I needed to get this one in on time. I found some momentum. My fingers were pounding the keys with minimal effort. This was going to be good. I could tell by how easy the words were coming out. It was like I wasn’t actually writing it. A perfect rhythm was established. I was nodding my head to the background music and the pace of the keyboard.

Time must have gotten away from me. I was finishing up the final formatting of the piece when I heard a car door shut. I looked up at the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes had elapsed. It  was Jerry. I shut my laptop and tried to gather up all my notes. I heard a knock at the door.

“Just a minute!” I yelled. My heart rate was flipping out. This isn’t what I needed. I totally forgot he was coming over to the condo when I got lost in my work. I felt silly rushing to clean everything up. He knocked again. He must not have heard me. “Just a minute!” I yelled again. I didn’t want to seem flustered, but in truth I was losing my mind. Why?

Then I heard talking outside. I froze. I looked at the door, horrified. The sound of keys jingling and then scraping against the lock made me get my ass moving again. I left all the things I was trying to collect and bolted for the bedroom. I did not make it.

“Whoa!” was all I heard a male voice say from the doorway.



Listening To These Harrowing Winds



Listening to these harrowing winds
I sure miss kissing your ruby lips
I’m cold these days; alone
Dreaming of holding your naked hips
That’s where my hands need to be
Memories of your perfect back arched
Seeing the outline of your love
Leaves my mouth permanently parched