No Comfort Tonight

I’m hiding from the night
I’m keepin’ some distance
To separate me
From those oncoming dreams.

I’m putting up a fight,
I’m not ready for tomorrow
Just got to keep
Another day from getting to me.

I’m ignoring the lonely sight
That’s such an empty bed
In between the sheets
There’s no comfort, only me.

– R. Brockey

How am I supposed to be proud to be an American…

So, the US military now has the ability to detain any of us, so long as they can paint us with a wide brush as a “terrorist”, in an undisclosed place for an indefinite amount of time.

Next, our government wants to create the first restrictions on our most powerful free and open communication technologies. And they want to give the power to squelch those communications not only to our elected officials, but to CORPORATE entities.

This is how dystopian stories start. Seriously. We are living through the moments where the US becomes a corporately sponsored police state.

Feminine Form [revised]

Magnificent curves,
My eyes trace them
And the familiar muscle movement
Triggers a wave of…

Greed.
No, not greed.
I don’t care to possess
Such a shape is not owned.

Each so distinct,
Yet reminiscent and familiar,
So I know where to look
To enhance the feeling of…

Lust.
But not exactly.
The base instinct
Would disfigure and contort

Movements graceful
With a give and a sway,
A bounce even,
Instantly forming a…

Crush.
Yet it’s not so.
That’s too short lived,
Of the heart, not the eyes.

Unerring, innate
Beauty, of a kind
I can never exhibit
And it makes me…

Jealous.
Hmm. That’s close,
But more about me
Not the exquisite shape.

Round and full
Feminine form,
In it’s many varieties,
Leaves me so full of…

Intrigue.
I want to know more, see more
Experience the pleasing shapes
With all my senses, my full faculty.

Really, it’s everything
All crowding my heart and mind
Simultaneously.

– R. Brockey

 

[I still have the original verse available]

Feminine Form

[I have revised this verse]

 

Magnificent curves,
My eyes trace them
And the familiar muscle movement
Triggers a wave of…

Greed.
No, not greed.
I don’t care to possess
Such a shape is not owned.

Each so distinct,
Yet reminiscent and familiar,
So I know where to look
To enhance the feeling of…

Lust.
But not exactly.
The base instinct
Would disfigure and contort

Movements graceful
With a give and a sway,
A bounce even,
Instantly forming a…

Crush.
Yet it’s not so.
That’s too short lived,
Of the heart, not the eyes.

Unerring, innate
Beauty, of a kind
I can never exhibit
And it makes me…

Jealous.
What? No.
Too negative, about me
Not the perfect shape.

Round and full
Feminine form,
In it’s many varieties,
Leaves me so full of…

Admiration!
A warm glow of
Appreciation, for
Each tableau.

Really, it’s everything
All crowding my heart and mind
Simultaneously.

– R. Brockey