Poseur Punks Stealing My Traditions

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Poseur punks stealing my traditions

Though they never earned the right

You cannot reappropriate a feeling

They’ve never been adrift under a starry night

These kids’ empty hearts & endless expectations

I left the sweat of my brow upon the sea

With too many of my nights away from home

In an entitled world; duty means a lot to me

Thousand Yard Stare

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It was dark out on the flight deck. The stars and moon not visable tonight. The hum of the Diesel engines mixed with the lapping of the waves. The rest of the guys were inside playing cards. He was sitting on a bullnose, where the mooring lines enter the ship.

He was dirty. The overall grime of shipboard life had taken its toll on his uniform, exposed flesh and general psyche. At this point of the deployment, his blue ‘digital’ camouflage pants were were out of regulations. They had rips, paint splatter and grease stains. No one gave him flack about it. There was no time to focus on those aspects or the means to replace uniforms. It was not important at this point. There was a mission at hand. The priorities were to do your job correctly the first time. Crisp new uniforms would not help you succeed out here. There is a feeling among sailors that those who had time to polish their boots did not have a real job. Admin types and supply personnel usually were the ones with nice looking boots.
“Smitty, you okay man?”
“I’m cool”
“You got that 1,000 yard stare going.”
“Naw, I’m just thinking. I’m fucking tired man”
“Me too.”
“I just want to go home. This shit sucks.”
“I know, I don’t even want to get off the boat in port.”
“Right? Let’s just go back, cut all this short.”
“Wish we could, man. You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. I’m cool. I’m gonna go to bed soon.”
“All right man, don’t be grabbing chains and jumping off the side.” They both smiled. “We’re laughing, but seriously. It’s not that bad. We’ll be home soon enough.”
“I know, thanks man.”
They went their separate ways. Smitty returned his gaze back out on the water.
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Sitting With Pirates & Thieves

 

Sitting with pirates & thieves

But you’re wandering about the old oak tree

You know you can never go home

Wishing for a life when you weren’t so free

You sold your precious soul

But there’s nothing left to retrieve

You’ll spend your ending days

Dying with those pirates & thieves

You’ll Find Me Beyond The Cobblestones

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You’ll find me beyond the cobblestones
Quiet man writing within a chaotic confine
Euphoric bedlam swinging from the rafters
A modest home upon the steep incline
Spirited princesses keeping me youthful
A curmudgeon with a loving streak
An honest hermit with little to say
Though here silence will not translate to meek

I’m A Reluctant Sailor At Best

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I’m a reluctant sailor at best
Life on the seas – a mere charade
A pirate’s life hasn’t panned out
Reflecting poor choices once made
But now I must focus on the task
Secrets of love hidden within the tome
Writing out the heart’s silent pain
It’s all I can do until I arrive home

A Picture Postcard Perfect Appearance

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A picture postcard perfect appearance
Modest, yet smoldering beauty beneath
A festive spirit expounding – Winter’s tales
Out singing carols & hanging a wreath
But once you come home for the day
Put on those hooker lips & pirate boots
Time to release your animalistic desire
Tired of being demure & a little too cute

There’s A Beautiful Woman I Know

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There’s a beautiful woman I know
She’s waiting for me on the shore
The letters say she’s been lonely
Don’t want her to feel it anymore
I close my eyes & silently plead
Please Captain, full steam ahead
‘Cause I got a lady back home
& She’s waiting for me in our bed

I’m Rockin’ This Dad Bod

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I’m rockin’ this dad bod
& making it look good
Unapologetically localized
Home in Suburban neighborhoods
I’m not trying to distract
Any of the ladies living nearby
I’m just trying to live my life
I’m just a normal boring guy
I’m prematurely grumpy
A hermit; writing down in the dungeon
Devastatingly handsome, locked away
Keep out! – here be a curmudgeon