The future awaits your love song,
so I’ll keep writing, it won’t be long.
It’ll be the story of a lucky guy.
He looked to the heavens and given the sky.
His clouds paint murals of contemplation.
The wind whispers melodic inspiration.
In the dark of night visions now clear and bright.
The day’s sunlight consumed by your sight.
Sunrise’s more vibrant as each new day begins.
Sunsets shared and this lucky guy wins.
A pad in lap a hand set free.
A mind wanders for words to see.
Emotions enhanced, troubles relieved.
Time unconditional, imagination believed.
Notes of nowhere, deciphering dared.
Scribbles scrawl, reluctance repaired.
Visions doodle in a borderless plane.
Consumed is all in a leaderless reign.
Stuck inside my head today, it’s not a good place to be.
It gets pretty lonely in here, just me and me.
A place so dark, blues are bright.
My body aches, yet alone I fight.
The same million thoughts all run around.
The same old shit knocks me to the ground.
A door is here.
I know somewhere.
I’ll bang my head around one more time.
A crack may appear, again I’ll rhyme.
Again I’ll love, again I’ll care.
Again I’m free, but do I dare.
Static by day and charge by night,
two negatives don’t make a right.
But sleep will come eventually.
Work will follow unfortunately.
Then home again alone with me,
my Monday night mystery, yet to be.
The sun rose, something’s gone astray.
Words returning I hope some other day.
Till then seek I shall something to say.
And express my love of you some other way.
Distractible and Chair
Life is distracting
when hours and hours required
Taking a backseat
is often bumpy, but not
in a limousine.
When writing’s your path
take all the forks you can get
and ignore the knives.
Pick’s in hand, sticks in mind,
harps guide in words I find.
Inspiration meets, greets and fleets.
Hearts feel souls on streets.
Vibrations good, silence strange.
Eyes flicker, scenes change.
A world of waves: hellos, goodbyes.
Exuberance crashes laughs with cries.
Future’s run forward, stepping away.
Winnings cost, losses sway.
Pencil’s sharp to fill the gray.
F M, I’ll beat another day.
Just a little note, it’s what I do;
words best convey my love of you.
While tomorrows may be better poetry,
nothing’s better than you for me.