Art Survives In This Modern Society

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Art survives in this modern society
It hasn’t fallen away with technology’s rise
The oppressive stench of hate hasn’t quelled
Our need to unload a soul without compromise
Imagination is one of the few things we have left
Untouched by their ever growing, catastrophic greed
Washington is all the same, no matter how you voted
Within ourselves, through art, we can truly be freed

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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…

Hanging With Beach Bums & Bashful Babes

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Hanging with beach bums & bashful babes

Swimming in the surf on late Spring days

Colorful flavors poured gently over ice

Skin glowing after hours in the pleasant rays

I thought I saw a Sea Hag along the sand

Though she revealed herself to be a Siren

Coaxing & teasing me with her demure allure

Whispering that I might be a modern Lord Byron

Uncomfortable with compliments of any sort

I quietly pull out my pen to jot down an ode

Her eyes grow wide, then a smirk & a wink

Simultaneously my mind, heart & loins explode

 

A Question Of Intents & Purpose

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A question of intents & purpose
Where & why; the source of our confusion
Time swaying with each movement
Closing our eyes, believing the illusion
Do you remember or it is all a memory
Lost within the darkness of our souls
I’m not who I ever thought I could be
Dreams evaporating when the moon grows full

Cold War Runways Still Clearly Marked

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Cold war runways still clearly marked
A legacy of certain impending doom
Farmhouse grill just the other side
These suburbanites need more room
Lost family values since those days
Deteriorated grain silos crumble in rust
Red wooden barn needing more paint
Orchard roads merely a path of dust
Good soil to grow your dreams in
Futures not to be hindered by our past
Imagine a world where children are free
Free to imagine a peace that will last

Honky-Tonk Gringos

  

Honky-tonk gringos

Living out broken dreams

Seen every saloon floor

An eyeful across the beams

Rousing angst for a misdeed

Toss a nickel towards a spittoon

Each loss grows a little harder

Shot! dying under the desert moon