The Summer Is Sweltering

The summer is sweltering

I’m trying to survive, so I have nothing on

The neighbor lady won’t stop staring

Perhaps I shouldn’t be out here watering my lawn

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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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Staring Into A Blank Page

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Staring into a blank page
Where can we take this from here
Will you support an unattractive soul
Will I always find friends of good cheer
I question the future as if it weren’t sold
Please tell me we still have a chance to be free
I type out thoughts that you might never know
But throughout time & space, you’ve meant more to me

Perpetual Time Lumbering On

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Perpetual time lumbering on
Your heart beats with each tick of the clock
A tiny desk lamp illuminating the room
Silent door upon no one knocks
Staring off into forgotten lore
Heaters no match for a winter’s night
Sitting removed in only underwear
Repel this world of justified fright
Questioning all the spoken reasons
Unlit candles calling out my name
Clinking together, so I turn my head
Hush, let us not speak about this shame

Suburban queens & their diamond rings

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Suburban queens & their diamond rings

Thinking sparkling possessions are theirs

The object of so many men’s thoughts

Lustful fantasies in each of their stares

Primped, dolled & dressed to the nines

These bodies merely trophy wives to be stressed

They hold no special value for society

Beyond the contents under their dress

 

The Young Woman Sits Quietly In The Room

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the young woman sits quietly in the room

staring endlessly ahead

occasionally picking up her pen to jot down a note

the casual clothes cover her slender frame

a blonde crown adorns her head

her beauty catches my roaming eye

without saying a word, she silently walks away

Seaside Memory

Your seaside memory remaining vigilant

Past days still dripping with salty air

The gulls cry stirred you onward

Precious tears forever entombed out there

The horizon entices an early morning gaze

Trapped in other worlds as you stare

The love of beauty & other expert riches

Though you know I was the one who truly cares

 

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