Perhaps I’m A Bit More Prudish

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Perhaps I’m a bit more prudish

Than I ever expected myself to be

Shying away from their exhibitions

Folding my soul back into propriety

Maybe I’m not as cool as you thought

I’m more of a meandering old fellow

Writing out lines of cautious fantasy

Whereas reality reveals itself to be rather mellow

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I’m Feeling A Bit Ill

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I’m feeling a bit ill
A condition I can’t describe
I need destinations more tranquil
Where’s the doctor to prescribe
I need her to write a note
& a wound to be undressed
For she might be the antidote
At first sight, I’m already blessed

Danced Holes In My Old School Chucks

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Danced holes in my old school chucks
Stepped around your beloved Tiffany lamp
My slouch-fit jeans ripped open tonight
Killed the man who called my sister a tramp
Do you remember when we were young
We were so dumb to think that high
Every dream broken with the vintage neon
We never did get off the ground to fly
Long ago poured out all that dusty scotch
I had to throw out those rose-coloured glasses
I see life so differently in these fresh days
No longer writing for myself & the drunken masses

You Have Your Notions Of Me

You have your notions of me
Whether it’s my rugged good looks
Or I’m a notorious scalawag
But neither a hero or a crook
I’m not a man of much persuasion
Nor am I a wild west outlaw
I choose to wear the eyepatch
But I’m more of a gentleman with flaws

I write fast & love slow
Without a care of what they say about me
When you have faith
You never have to wait & see

I quietly find my secrets within
Descended from that beautiful literary brogue
To hell with the naysayers; we’re gonna have fun
I’ll be your host tonight, the swashunbuckling rogue
Many out there won’t warm to my charm
Not their cup of tea or simply they’ve no style
But you of good taste & reknown class
Come share a spot with the one with the mischievous smile

Reading The Braille Edition Of A Topless Sextant

 

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Reading the Braille edition of a topless sextant
Borderland sailors lost again above the tree line
Vicious handwriting left you pretty & potent
Dainty cherries plucked from Guerneville’s vine
Coffeehouse grunge wiped clean in your hands
Uninitiated lives failing to stand so fast & sure
Entitlements marked against your vacant lands
Discarded notes burned to return fresh & pure
Mermaids & alehouses swollen in a vamp rain
Self-imposed heartbreak mistaken for the blues
Trying to remember names of those who remain
Cautiously awaiting your new high-heeled muse
Writing a memoir regarding a nurse he skirted
Astral units left you with dingy change to spare
Noting the good stock with which she flirted
Winning the hearts, but the minds did not care
All your dreams left tied to the evening bedpost
Those rosy cheeks, offering you up a silent peek
Locked her in the room, staying white as a ghost
Mocking all the love & affection you still seek
Fingers toy with the scarf tied around her waist
The bard’s meaning left bewildering & obscured
Untied & left it hanging, waiting for your taste
Knowing your future holds your heart immured
Dedicated your words to the love of a woman
Sailing away from her, wiping away your tears
Too many free nights with the dark star to damn
Return trip bound by the change of distant years
Pressed into servicing you under the water tower
Releasing me to retreat & now be fallen asunder
Bathed atop the crow’s nest in a summer shower
Her loose dress allowed an easy chance to plunder
Busted in a brothel by shipmates on shore patrol
Her liberty cuffs showing us a full view of the bay
Wharf rats continuing down the hill out of control
Your Elizabethan Towers blocking the dreary day
Frayed hair in a yellowish hue flowing out & over
Dry rot found along our real estate, but I digressed
That Golden Gate shadowing my four-leaf clover
I’m lucky enough to find you had freshly undressed
Pirates full of malarkey & rum out in the shipyards
It was rot gut that ruined me & not rotten planks
He returned to port to find her old life now charred
Rising sun shines upon new beauty & I give thanks

Time To Shake Loose

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Time to shake loose
With the rhythm of the keys
I’m no longer hopelessly desperate
I’ve dried up all my careless pleas
In the whirlwind, I’ve found my calm
You question my worth, but I just stare
Within my own skin, I selfishly create
Hate & jealousy left, I’m now blissfully unaware

I’m A Reluctant Sailor At Best

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I’m a reluctant sailor at best
Life on the seas – a mere charade
A pirate’s life hasn’t panned out
Reflecting poor choices once made
But now I must focus on the task
Secrets of love hidden within the tome
Writing out the heart’s silent pain
It’s all I can do until I arrive home

I can’t sleep, so here’s a poem for ya…

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I keep looking around my desk
Searching for anything to write
Confusion in this chaos
Fearful I might come off as trite
The floor littered with scraps
The false words & near misses
Wishing you were here with me
To reassure with a few of your kisses