Platform Heels Pumped

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Platform heels pumped

I bite down on your lip

To drink in the blood

Run fingers through your hair

Now pulled tight

Hike up your hem

You are soaked through

& I know I love you

 

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The Molten Life-Sustaining Elixir

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The molten life-sustaining elixir
Down the gullet another cup is poured
Pitch black; the only way to drink
An awakening that just won’t be ignored
Stretching my arms into the morning
Reaching to take the sun in my embrace
Another sip; life will be mine
Success is surviving; sunshine on your face

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…

A Fine Suited Man With Terrible Inklings

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A fine suited man with terrible inklings
Hands on her shoulders; easy to confide
Pouring drinks & erasing her sadness
Falling by the wayside with time & tide
Beauty is merely a natural configuration
Each button gone, an uncontrollable urge
His intentions told with a silent tongue
Embraced & now they lovingly merge

Drinking The Spilled Ink

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Drinking the spilled ink

Anything for a touch of inspiration

The metal nib scratches the paper

Leaving behind unused insinuation

Touting such triumphs to the Heavens

Coming to these waters to galvanize

Words reign down with invigoration

& finally finding absolution within thine eyes

Drinking Rum On A Dead Woman’s Chest

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Drinking rum on a dead woman’s chest

Callin’ me a bloody castaway

Pinkerton’s got me pinned down

Her love will never last past today

Flirting with the cigarette girl

Danced on my heart, now I’m pierced

I aim to stand tall, down to the last drop

Her beauty was deliberate & fierce

Always looking for something between

Usually a billfold, other times the sheets

She wanted the last of the big time spenders

Not often won, though seldom beat

You’re A Questionable Soul

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You’re a questionable soul
Lying in the Captain’s brig
After drinking his scotch
& wearing his wife’s wig
Definitely conduct unbecoming
Her voice sounding the alarm
The man knows your name now
Surely you’ll swing from the yardarm

Why Are You Sittin’ Way Over There?

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Why are you sittin’ way over there?

C’mere, let’s have a lovin’ tussle

Slide across this ol’ bench seat

Time you felt some American muscle

Cruisin’ at over their speed limits

Where to? We’ll be there in a snap

Hike your skirt up a little more, girl

Why not, crawl over here to my lap

You won’t be needing these panties

And if I might tell you the truth

I merely wish to taste your sweetness

To drink endlessly of your Fountain of Youth

The Calendar Denies It

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The calendar denies it
But on the beach it’s still Summer
Endless in this wretched heat
& all this chafing is a real bummer
So I have a better way to spend our days
Here’s another drink for your sunny attitude
Please hold mine as I dislodge my clothing
Do as you like, but I’m going to wade out in the nude