Have We Forgotten





Have we forgotten that we’re a rebellious people
Cashing checks under a drifter’s pseudonym
But together, we race across time, surviving
Embracing the unity of singing outlawed hymns
Lately, crying about a falsified history
Disillusioned, disappointed, disingenuous
I have no faith in movements and isms
They’re tinged with the superfluous
I believe in honor & service to the people
Treat each as an individual, never a group
Freedom & liberty distilled down to purest forms
Or else, we’ll see this hatred played out in an endless loop


I Never Felt Comfortable On The Inside



I never felt comfortable on the inside
It has only been right out on the fringe
The powers & the authorities defied
Freedom; swinging from society’s hinge

Caught Up In The Freedom Of Expression




Caught up in the freedom of expression
Illuminance firmly held on your body
My thoughts drift beyond the surface
Tinged with the abstract & the naughty
The truth becomes cloudy & distant
But my mind isn’t something to seduce
Isolation of the heart lingers long after
Passion doesn’t lead to an easy truce
There’s a loneliness to be found
When you’re face-first within the squall
The world falls away, folding into itself
You’re feeling small, almost abysmal
But tomorrow will always return
I know someday I’ll find your face
They can’t keep us away forever
I’ll secure you in a steady embrace
Dreams may confuse, but I’m steadfast
Ashore before the death of the sun
The world’s filled with tribulations
But at the end of it all, there’s still only one


A Spinning Beauty Upon The Mirror


A spinning beauty upon the mirror
In a perfect white dancing gown
A pirouette for all eternity’s memory
A lady of such illustrious renown
A sunny smile in the cold, cold air
Our frozen ballerina silently wept
Whispering French words softly
Freedom tasted when she first stepped


Abandoned Nylons

I felt a growing need to get out into the woods, to leave behind the city and society. We do not need all this nonsense. We, as a people, need to find our roots and return to where God intended us to be. It feels natural to be away from a manmade existence. We don’t need every path paved. It is well within the realm of acceptance to veer off the beaten path and explore this world that lies beyond the limits of comfort. You don’t need wi-fi hotspots at all points of your day. Drop your phone and car keys off. You are past due for a date with your old hiking boots.

I had to get out. This was the moment.

“Miss Beverly? Ma’am?“ My secretary called after me as I walked out of my office. I just kept walking. I wasn’t going back. I couldn’t.

This formal attire was smothering me. I had to get out to the fresh air and trees. I had to get away from this city. I reached up and clutched at my throat, pulling my scarf down and out of my way. My heart started beating faster when I heard my car chirp as it unlocked. I like to be self-sufficient. They were forcing my hand. I had to do it.

I was doing something I shouldn’t be. I whipped the scarf from around my neck and let it get caught up in the air as I threw it out the window. The buttons popped off when I ripped the shirt open, shooting in every direction. I had to get air. I had to get a chance to breathe purity once again. My life was polluted with pre-packaged meals and stop and go traffic. I am not of the mindset that we were ever meant to be stacked upon each other the way we are these days.

I needed my own space. I needed room to stretch out my arms and feel cleanliness of nature. I sped away as fast as I could. It felt good to be racing out of the city.

The buildings and exit signs were a blur behind me. I needed to find a place where I wasn’t closed in. I wanted to be away from a desk, responsibility and inauthentic expectations. All that was living a lie to me. I didn’t want to be that person any longer. I knew no other way out.

I made it out of the city. I drove fast without hesitation. I-95 is a long road with a lot of possibilities. It made me smile thinking of all of them.

I pulled over to a small gas station where the 95 hit 17. While I was putting gas in the tank, I took the top off the jeep. It wasn’t doing me any good. I wanted the wind in my hair.

I went inside the minimart to grab some supplies. I loaded up the basket with a couple bottle of wine, some cheese and a cheap pair of flip flops.

There was a teenage boy working the counter. His name tag said his name was Bobby. I asked Bobby if he knew a good place to get away take a few days off. Without taking his eyes off me, he pulled down a business card and handed it to me.

Bobby said his aunt rented the house out. It was right on the beach of Jekyll Island. I merely had to continue down 17 to the 520 and straight to the beach. That sounded simple enough to me.

I thanked him; flashed him a smile and a wink. He blushed. As I was walking out to the Jeep, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window. My shirt was still wide open, revealing my bra. I stopped short, trying to decide if I should be embarrassed. I smiled and continued on my way.

I tucked the bags behind my seat. I pulled off my heels, throwing them back there, too. Then I shimmied out of my nylons. I threw them on the passenger seat.

As I pulled out of that gas station, the wind took the nylons away. I watched them fly into the air. I pressed the accelerator.




Waking Up Next To The Woman I Love


Waking up next to the woman I love
Morning coffee, time to take Jennings for a walk
Suburban life – an unexpected dream
Watching my beautiful family like a hawk
A simple life stolen from me
Sailing this ocean so I can be released
Living that life only through letters
Freedom will come & I’ll cherish every piece


Feelin’ Alright In Your Tight Pink Shirt


Feelin’ alright in your tight pink shirt
Released in a shower down on Haight
Life-altering love spread between us
As we passed under the Golden Gate

Sweet summer flowers rising as I wake
Between coffeehouses on Avenue Nine
You never left my roaming thoughts
Always kept me warm in the sunshine

Walking silently together in the park
Remembering you fondly now as I jog
The weather never dampened my spirits
That old carousel rotating through the fog

Trees shade the bench where you shared
Words of peace, marked by a longing kiss
My view no longer holds ravenous beauty
Freedom wasn’t supposed to be like this


Drinking With The Harbormaster


Drinking with the Harbormaster
Regurgitating things only the ocean knows
Freedom can’t be created any faster
Beauty survives rarely as wild as the rose


Stephen Fry

“I am a lover of truth, a worshipper of freedom, a celebrant at the alter of language and purity and tolerance.” – Stephen Fry


Absentee Postmasters

Absentee postmasters in a foreign longing state
Discussing politics of lost & forgotten mates
Central themes no one remembered to notice
Eyeing secrets along the day to your favorite hostess
Stuck in a rut & broken down on a fragile road
Distances lost with the woman lying in your head
Remedies too severe to be used on this night
Gently track where you’re afraid to tread