Watering Hole metal legged bar stool beckons for a man who has no friends human sounds float around him glass of scotch and a facade a man who has no friends cloaked in tattered barroom bravado glass of scotch and a disguise comfortable conversations with strangers cloaked in tattered barroom bravado ambient […]
August 16th 1977 King’s music rocks steady in Memphis hands touch the iron gates of Graceland curled up by grief induced pain fan’s tears pour to the ground hands touch the iron gates of Graceland pill vials litter royal tiki room wife’s tears pour to the ground she took his child when she
Wish List small town saves failing book store patriotic lost soldier realizes he has a loving family young couple is shunned then celebrated at the local diner children and dogs channel truth old man sees the error of his ways hearts grow singing in harmony loneliness gets kissed under lights of a Christmas tree
4 AM-ish obsession is a thief steals sleep whispers indiscretions puts on faces dead enemies fearful heart rate rises rem too early from holistic mineral nightmare drink water try again only to dream obsession is a thief Zack Hoffman 2024
Deep Cuts waiting for the chaos to calm down digital onslaught derails aging analogue lackluster soundtrack plays softly right pace with the wrong timing digital onslaught derails aging analogue life’s music crackles through studio monitors right pace with the wrong timing new ballads a rarity to open ears life’s music crackles through
Paupers Poem Change into torn rags of humiliation Beg for love in front of locked gate Throw pieces of pity into wooden cup Bounces the hollow sound of shame Beg for love in front of locked gate Stranger places a mirror at my feet Bounces the hollow sound of shame Reflections of
Teaching tribe lost for 40 years fear permeates when God is not present breathe in Mitzrayim breathe out freedom I was lost for 40 years soul wounded when God was lurking breathe in blessing breathe out burden boundaries found 40 years learn how to say no with an open heart breathe in
Meeting Balthus at the Red Table posed her sex exposed an ancient royal gift tied up in a silk sash and bow to be opened or closed fondled or forgotten leaning against the pillow breath held focused on a tapestry until the words “thank you” break her neutrality like the great exhale she turns
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Truth for the Stubborn trudge to make a living must be more to life than this world moving at breakneck speed synchronistic without purpose must be more to life than this questions haunt me like ghosts synchronistic without purpose my dance was out of step questions haunt me like ghosts hard
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Below Crown Hill there was a time when a nylon webbed beach chair was my throne watching bonfires blazed on lazy summer nights watching the beach circus as young tattooed torch twirlers illuminate the darkness while perfecting their craft watching the decommissioned battle worn USS Missouri sail past honored and humbled she silently graced