Reading The Braille Edition Of A Topless Sextant

 

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Reading the Braille edition of a topless sextant
Borderland sailors lost again above the tree line
Vicious handwriting left you pretty & potent
Dainty cherries plucked from Guerneville’s vine
Coffeehouse grunge wiped clean in your hands
Uninitiated lives failing to stand so fast & sure
Entitlements marked against your vacant lands
Discarded notes burned to return fresh & pure
Mermaids & alehouses swollen in a vamp rain
Self-imposed heartbreak mistaken for the blues
Trying to remember names of those who remain
Cautiously awaiting your new high-heeled muse
Writing a memoir regarding a nurse he skirted
Astral units left you with dingy change to spare
Noting the good stock with which she flirted
Winning the hearts, but the minds did not care
All your dreams left tied to the evening bedpost
Those rosy cheeks, offering you up a silent peek
Locked her in the room, staying white as a ghost
Mocking all the love & affection you still seek
Fingers toy with the scarf tied around her waist
The bard’s meaning left bewildering & obscured
Untied & left it hanging, waiting for your taste
Knowing your future holds your heart immured
Dedicated your words to the love of a woman
Sailing away from her, wiping away your tears
Too many free nights with the dark star to damn
Return trip bound by the change of distant years
Pressed into servicing you under the water tower
Releasing me to retreat & now be fallen asunder
Bathed atop the crow’s nest in a summer shower
Her loose dress allowed an easy chance to plunder
Busted in a brothel by shipmates on shore patrol
Her liberty cuffs showing us a full view of the bay
Wharf rats continuing down the hill out of control
Your Elizabethan Towers blocking the dreary day
Frayed hair in a yellowish hue flowing out & over
Dry rot found along our real estate, but I digressed
That Golden Gate shadowing my four-leaf clover
I’m lucky enough to find you had freshly undressed
Pirates full of malarkey & rum out in the shipyards
It was rot gut that ruined me & not rotten planks
He returned to port to find her old life now charred
Rising sun shines upon new beauty & I give thanks

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Reading Dog Eared Love Letters

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Reading dog eared love letters
Smelling of her French perfume
Longing to be with her again
Clinging to memories, I consume
The candlelight quietly fading
The only sound is my pen’s scratch
Scribbling missives & shanties
Acknowledged beauty, she’s quite the catch

Read Tosha’s Book!

This little beauty just showed up from the good people at Amazon! I’m super excited to read it. Like, more excited than 37 year old should be about anything at all. It’s kinda embarrassing. If you don’t know Tosha Michelle, then you’re behind the 8 Ball. Please check her out – I mean check out her blog. And her books!

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Here’s a pic I used back a few months with her poetry book next my grandfather’s typewriter. It’s a great book. & I try to use the typewriter daily.

 

My words won’t do her justice. Please just see for yourself. 😀💚✨

I Won’t Judge You

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I won’t judge you for your past
I don’t care how your body looks
Inward – we all contain equal souls
We can all absorb the beauty of books
Go read! Fitzgerald, Kerouac, Twain
Emerson, Rand, Tolstoy, Hemingway
Thoreau, Dostoyevsky, Neruda, Yeats
Great words are forever here to stay
It is solely up to you
To build up your literary wealth
But I will constantly judge you
For the contents of your bookshelf

The Cold Metal Chairs Of A Stale Café

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The cold metal chairs of a stale café

A site for endless, inconsequential chatter

All I really wanted was a cup of coffee

Instead, I got rants of words that don’t really matter

I was wishing for something beautiful

In all those years I devoted to university

Thought to share my quality time

Read through renditions of cosmic poetry

In the end, you left me sitting alone

Without any beauty for me to gently stare

This time ended up being useless

Never anything you wanted to share