I Have Stacks Of Unused Paper




I have stacks of unused paper
Like the untouched dreams in my head
We all have the forks in our roads
But often take the easier path instead
So many distractions in my way
To give in to them would leave me mundane
I don’t wish to live an ordinary existence
I’d much rather push the envelope & become insane
The results always lead to the same ending
We’ll all wander into death before we’re through
I don’t want to take a straight line to get there
I hope to zig, all the while forever holding onto you


Typing, Hacking, Thinking – Smokin’ Hot

Typing, hacking, thinking – Smokin’ hot
Typing your best to empty all thought
Pouring your soul into force upon the keys
Your woman walks past with a dress above the knees
Now you can’t think or type or stammer straight
The hell with with deadlines – this one’s gonna be late
You pray to the spirits of procrastination or whatever you think of
Burn this project right now, sacrifice it in the name of love

*previously posted on former blog

A Broken Bottle Of Scotch & An Empty Stripper


A broken bottle of scotch & an empty stripper

Checking my watch for the time to set sail

Three bloody sheets & all the usual drivel

Keeping always one eye on the day’s mail

Unsavory characters gathered around my table

I can’t walk straight, but my heart goes out to thee

Smoke & bar light reveal a familiar feeling

Failure felt all those years trying to break free

Hiding behind myself, not wanting to attract

Fingernail scrapes will lead to further attention

I leave this room in no condition to go

Held hostage by all the words you felt obligated to mention