Those Words Come To Me In Those Coffee Dreams

Those words come to me in those coffee dreams
A spontaneous marvel of literary delight
There’s a difference between manufactured beauty
& a real beauty, founded by nature’s authentic right
But I can’t explain the nuances with the definition
I’m not one to judge such subjective whims
Focusing on my own qualms & dangling thoughts
Let us sit, pour another cup, let’s solve these problems
I’m not bothered by such trifling issues as rules
Let them worry about my intents & being misconstrued
I let my chosen pages explain all I’m willing to
I’m more concerned if that pot has finished its brew

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Laissez Faire

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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

Cold Coffee & A Stash Of Lost Dreams

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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

I’m Seeking A Truth

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I’m seeking a truth within these fragmented words
My thoughts won’t cooperate with how my fingers move
Typing on this old hand-me-down machine to transform
My mundane existence into a magical, deliberate groove
I am not afraid to expose the flesh of a wilted soul
There are no heroes in these parts, just broken misanthropes
Internalizing the segmented society & all the villains
Returning to coffee so black the void regains precious hope

I Have Rogue Ideas About Loving Women

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I have rogue ideas about loving women
She’s magical; youth when I’m feeling old
I love my woman like I like my coffee
Invigorated that she’s tall, busty & bold
Our mutual happiness is intertwined
Late nights – breathing passionate fire
Proclaiming she’s the only woman for me
Contented when she’s singing to the Angel’s choir

A Foggy Morning Along The Swamp

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A foggy morning along the swamp

A chill down your spine; the Earth still

I grab a coffee & another one on the go

Can’t get trapped, we remain with life to fulfill

Indications of the night wearing off

Pixie dust lingering where my dreams used to be

Her touch; fingerprinted on my soul

I close my eyes, she’s still who I always see

Language Is Always Swirling In My Mind

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Language is always swirling in my mind

Concept of creativity begins to protrude 

Coffee poured into lonely & cold crockery 

Enhancing feelings of morning’s solitude 

I feel there’s a fluid density to my dreams

Where it’s not easy for them to dissolve 

Our actions lead us into raw perpetuity

Organically replayed as the earth revolves 

Standing back, removing yourself from here

You find living takes a certain concentration

Happiness requires focus and some effort

But gratitude never achieves complete saturation

I Need Coffee

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I need coffee
Dressed in my finest tartan
Words stumble in early hours
Another weary day just startin’
I need to flex my wrist
Stretch-out my pen – longhand
Meld my thoughts into the paper
Convince\Hope you understand

Trying Out Stories In The Morning

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Trying out stories in the morning
Typing away on this ol’ machine
Thinking of something different
A genius the world’s never seen
But I can’t think of anything great
I guess I’ll get more coffee instead
I hear a whistle from my lady
I guess my love needs me back in bed