The Art

When beauty walked into the room I drew
My breath and wondered had he asked for me
As if my language I forgot I knew
I stood before him struck so silently
An artist with my canvasses of lust
So huge in public gallery not hung
But beauty isn’t something art should trust
For surface isn’t where our work is done
Undress the beauty show what lies beneath
And let me draw your breath into my soul
The canvas of your heart has sparked belief
A brush of lips and I have lost control
I stripped my love and now I have to find
The art to capture beauty in the mind

Time

An hour to myself or maybe two
A coffee and the time to sit and drink
It isn’t that I haven’t things to do
But I afford myself some time to think
The world is rushing on at such a pace
Sometimes I feel so giddy I can’t see
I like to stop, to focus on a face
But modern life’s transacted rapidly
It looks like I’m a tortoise sitting there
No doubt I’ll never win that human race
Another man will be successful hare
For I will stop and linger in this place
No pressure in this gentle life of mine
I grant myself the precious gift of time

Eat sleep work replete

I’m living on the page that’s marked today
My yesterday’s are memories in store
I work, I rest and then a little play
Does anybody really need much more
Tomorrow doesn’t really have a plan
I’ll wake up with dawn and I will eat
A coffee with a friend I hope he can
Some labour and my day will be complete
A complicated man but now I try
To live my life with minimal distress
I’m finding there’s a lot to simplify
I wonder if I can have zero stress
A purpose, a few friends, a bite to eat
How minimal and yet I am replete

On The Throne

I sent a little missive asking her for some advice
The psycho bitch from hell decides to copy in the boss
She treats me like a piece of dirt; as if I might have lice
And maybe when I’m gone she’ll throw a party for my loss
I’m unaware what I have done to make her feel this way
I think she took dislike to me the moment that we met
I hope it’s not the autism or fact that I am gay
But frankly i dont give damn so she can call me Rhett
One day I will be on my way I’m going with the wind
To pastures new and lands that I am yearning to explore
And then this little feud will almost certainly rescind
A little aftertaste of something bitter nothing more
I hope for now she’s wise enough to let this dog alone
She thinks that she’s the queen but she’s just squatting on the throne

Wrong End

An extrovert a people kind of guy
But you will not deliver that I see
You cannot even look me in the eye
And situations end so awkwardly
Pedantic but you seem as if your bright
It’s such a shame how you refuse to fit
Annoyingly you often get things right
But home for you is wrong end of the stick
A syndrome on a spectrum did you say
Apparently not every one’s the same
And when you do a task another way
It isn’t right that I should judge and blame
And you believe you’re just as good as me
An equal simply thinking differently