Drinking The Spilled Ink

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Drinking the spilled ink

Anything for a touch of inspiration

The metal nib scratches the paper

Leaving behind unused insinuation

Touting such triumphs to the Heavens

Coming to these waters to galvanize

Words reign down with invigoration

& finally finding absolution within thine eyes

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Lovely Flowers/Well Intentioned

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Lovely flowers/well intentioned
Nothing to replace frigid remorse
A broken vase with contents spilled
Life mistook its proper course
Banging away at the languid keys
Trying to create some tranquility
Which one left in stagnate appeal
Can’t escape your own responsibility

I Never Said I Was Good At This

  

I never said I was good at this
I have no fancy training or school
I just close my eyes & spill my soul
Without any regard if it will be cool
I’m a bush league hack at my best
Wandering my way through eternity
Endless reams within your dreams
But I’ll never be a victim of your modernity