Looking Life Dead In The Face


Looking life dead in the face
Feeling the fresh seaside air
Never backing away from the cliff
Crumbling footholds not to share
Nostalgic tones deepening now
A wish formulated into a drop
Standing tall against the tide
Generous breaths until you won’t stop


She Was Telling Stories About Her Darker Creases


She was telling stories about her darker creases
Seaside jaunts with a tireless string of boys
Social classifications leaving us feeling abused
Systematically wearing down a soul without any noise
Searching for fun in spite of former cuts & bruises
Sensations nearing proportions of hazy juvenile tales
Snapping to after another round of spirited friends
Sold on a notion even though our memory may fail
Sandy journeys bring us back to where we were lost
Still meandering around the area we remember most
Striking out to change the way our life unfolded
Stagnant when we finally return back from the coast

Red Crushed Velvet


Red crushed velvet

In a crumpled mess

All your seaside dreams

Sprawled on the floor

This year’s news no worse

For your party dress

Thought you had it all

Discovering now there’s more