Walking Down The Street On All Saints Day

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Walking down the street on All Saints Day
Victrolas on display at the corner store
Aflirtatious greeting with the local beauty
She always smiles, but never asks for more
You’ve created another aura within her
Casting her a red-blooded in your pulp fantasy
A polite lady with those vicious high heels
Mental interludes without consent, it seems to me
Take your dreams & exit stage left
You tried to court &failed, life’s not fair
Let a true gentleman whisper elegant words
She’ll open up her passion, exposing her silky pair

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Autumn Is Growing Dark

 

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Autumn is growing dark
The season of the macabre
A stiff drink for courage
& inspiration by Bob
Imagination drifting a bit
The corners seem shallow
I’m losing my focus
These demons seem Hallowed

 

 

 

 

*Clearly I’m behind in my posting if this is just now making it to my page…

Glassy Eyed Vipers Stand In The Corner

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Glassy eyed vipers stand in the corner
Memories of cool water and menthol cigarettes
Manual labor for a couple more summers
Then throw me with the rest of your vets
Counting the days until they are all gone
Cast off into an unknown unforgiving sea
Vacant and alone on a sunny day
The cold winter days at least give reason to be
Memories of forgotten love lost
Those years crash against my soul
Pictures and letters no more than ash
Not enough booze to fill this very hole

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

  

Don’t Tell Me How To Write

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Don’t tell me how to write
Been doing this for awhile now
I’m certainly no expert
But I’m not trying to tell you how

You weren’t even sperm
In your daddy’s sack
The first time I was called
A poetic hack

The interweb is large enough
Scurry off to your little corner again
For the sake of humankind
I have to commandeer your pen