I See Her Light’s Still On

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I see her light’s still on
Looking down at my worn shoes
I’m not much to look at
Continuing on with only my blues
To lose
I wish I could speak to her
Maybe I will, one of these days
But she only ever sees that…
I’m always walking away

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Dancin’ On The Dew Drops

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Dancin’ on the dew drops
Behind the magic of the unseen
Lettin’ the sun shine through
Another morning light & serene
Duck & dive past negativity
Run free; barefoot on the grass
Soak up all of nature’s joy
I’m gonna go pinch my woman on the ass

 

I’m Just Trying To Live My Life

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I’m just trying to live my life
Extending some gratitude along the way
Showing the people how I can love
For we never know when it’ll be our last day
I don’t always wake up with a smile
But it’s always easier if I somehow do
Grabbing black coffee & my woman’s ass
Together with a grin; I’m gonna make it through

The Truth About Women’s Feet

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Love wrapped around my mind like a shroud

Full of colors, spectrums & radiant splashes

Not a day without engulfing sunshine

Blinded by pantyhose & false eyelashes

I believed in the fairytale courtships

Sipping champagne from glass slippers

Lovely damsels in need of gentlemen

Revealed to be crude strumpet strippers

My soul could not take this detail

Where was my love with elegant class

Distraught in this new reality

Stuck on feet made for crystal glass

How could my dreams unravel so

This giving me pause to think

Now I understand the truth

That women’s feet actually stink

The Summer Wasn’t All It Was Cracked Up To Be

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The summer wasn’t all it was cracked up to be
The heat & humidity never completely subsided
Walking out amongst the wildflowers half-naked
Survived by nuzzling up to the woman I forever brided

 

 

*it’s still 80 degrees here.

A Woman Not Marked, Boiled In Thought

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A woman not marked, boiled in thought
Slowly escaping melancholy with each sip
Sitting, staring out her kitchen window
Contentious dreams emitted from parted lips
Coffee can stimulate a bored mind
The house to be prepared for a festive banquet
A morose morning, lingering in the cool air
Providing a bounty for the Heavenly set

A Wink From Her To Get My Heart A-Revving

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A wink from her to get my heart a-revving
Her pink negligee hanging below her knee
Soft skin turns into hardened intentions
The promise of a night of debauchery
A bouquet not desired, but a single bloom
Visions of adulation thoroughly taut
I’m rigidly attuned with her frequency
A fine suited man removing a Windsor knot
Fastened to my bedpost; a sailor can surely tie
Settling down with this libertine, methinks
A pretty picture of a delicious woman
Purely polished reflections in my cufflinks
Post coital; passion overflowing this room
Perfection amid people imperfectly real
Precious moments that I’ll never forsake
My woman’s love, allowing me to constantly heal

Waitress, You May Refill My Coffee Now

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Waitress, you may refill my coffee now
Mornin’ Miss, your sight is such a relief
Today I’ll be renewed, fresh & free
Been plucking the wharves from my teeth
My heart had been down on its luck
Though today I’m feeling much better
That woman’s no longer haunting me
I decided to throw out her final letter
Stepped right up to the edge of the bridge
I threw it out to the unforgiving sea
Those papers floated off forevermore
All I need today is this perfect coffee
I’m different & she doesn’t exist
Think I’ll head down to the corner
Flag down a taxi & go for a ride
Take back taxes stolen by Jack Horner
Heard he was dealing cards
At SOMA’s famous jook joint
Heard he was spending my money
With my rusty pistol I’ll anoint
Thank you, ma’am for this cup
I’ll come back, if you please
I don’t get many conversations
Quite as pleasant as these

She’s Looking So Fly

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She’s looking so fly
Perfect 10 on that Instagram feed
Don’t try to sell me anything
Just wanna see her authentic
Cannot compete with a weaponized vagina
An angry & bitter woman
With pent up rage
Who was the boy
To make her this way

Typing, Hacking, Thinking – Smokin’ Hot

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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