Midnight Arrives In The Candlelight

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Midnight arrives in the candlelight
My imagination takes over as before
Secretive scribbles in an unlit corner
Wine & a woman coaxing me for more
Uncertain of what we should divulge
An intrigue for sure, this darling flower
I’m intimidated, yet oddly disarmed
Casually containing remarkable brain power
A smart woman in a beautiful exterior
Society isn’t prepared for this conglomeration
But I know a woman is at her most alluring
When engaged in interesting conversation

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Too Shy To Keep Up The Pretensions

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Too shy to keep up the pretensions
Crawling instead into the Notebook
The one with the scribbles upside down
Hints & subtractions; death to all the crooks
They’re lurking in the recesses
An obtuse excuse eventually bound to fail
Strength comes in many forms
Even when she tries to hide behind her veil

The Carcasses Of Inspiration

 

 

 

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The carcasses of inspiration
Wine glasses with Burgundy residue
Speaking to late nights & early mornings
Scribbles in the margin on the follow through
Feeling parched as I wake
Noticing your lipstick stains
Upon the rim of the glass
Reminding me of the dreams that remain
Bleary eyed, drinking the coffee grounds
Searching for a fate within the dregs
Fumbling over these typewriter keys
Lightheaded when I see your naked legs
Your smile is a distraction
But you pop a button & then one more
I’m at your complete mercy
Once the nightgown hits the floor

Words Keep Me Buoyed

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Words keep me buoyed
Sanity sifted, then promptly returned
Thought processes turned on end
Satisfaction smells like salty sunburns
But we were born out of time
Scribbles & poems don’t mean anything anymore
But to a few hidden scoundrels
The fringe of society behind unmarked doors

It’s A Nondescript Alcove

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It’s a nondescript alcove
A humble place I can journal my deepest thoughts
I can write of my secret crushes & fond lovers
Decrypting moods of soul’s who cannot be bought
I’ll scribble away without any pressure to perform
These jottings belong to me; they’re only mine
Tomes dedicated to the craft of confession
A postscript punctuated with a toast of red wine

I Have A Secret

I have a secret
Scribbling in the margins
The poetry of the opera halls
Burning drinks of gargled sin
A letter to the editor
The words chosen for tonight
The opinions of a fool
Only a pretty girl left to recite

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