Sleep (day 393)

Sleep crawls into my skin like a rusty nail
Scratching away at the inside of my eyes
Whispering softly into my ears a dull buzz
Wrapping it’s arms around my chest and slowing me down
Drafting up scripts to throw into my head
Calling my name from the freshly made bed

Sleep, in all of its wiles
Has taken control
Has grabbed onto my sails
Pulled them down
Folded them nicely
Put them away
And beckoned to me
As if only by
The lone spotlight
In the night
I am led forward
Into the dream
That I call sleep

Seasons of Memories (day 392)

Moments that hang onto us like the deep winters night
Make the hard rain warming, deep to the bone
Smiles that come from long lost smells
Perfect the spinning wheels that hum in my ears

Moments that hang onto us like the warm sun of a summers day
Remind us of no better days
They take away the pain and dim the pleasant drone
Into a see of light thoughts and salty kisses

Moments that hang onto us like fresh dew of a springs morning
Help to refresh the cutest moments we’ve lived before
The green bike that rode straight, the small footsteps
There are no memories that escape the seasons of time

Cobblestone Streets (day 391)

Memories of a distant land cross through my mind
Ghosts that walk along the same streets
In clothes that have long since been fashion
Talking words that have since been banned
Riding animals that have held legends
Holding court with the people who populate history books

I have walked along these cobblestone streets
I have held hands with the memories that haunt me
Caressing me with sweet words of wisdom
Leading me through paths untrod
Long since abandoned to new-age ruins
I plundered their spoils with hands full of fruits

From a far I saw a wandering angel
I called her by her name, but she did not respond
She didn’t hear my requests as I was not her project
Fluttering her wings, she left me standing
But the lady was stone, and I watched her leave
Music trailing after the wind curls of another time

What Is (day 390)

I am not a wanderer
I am a traveler
I am a hand in the air
I am a stone in your path
I am a walking stick
I am a familiar scent
I am a highway song
I am a journey long
I am a worn shoe
I am a singletrack
I am a favorite song
I am a warm jacket

How does it feel?

Cooling (day 389)

Pulsating through my veins the strain begins to beg
Following passion through dark rooms and closed doors
Hushed whispers strain the thick air
Dense with sweat and good moods

Drinks on the rocks fuel already intoxicated minds
Smooth music paves the way to sweet romance
As sheets rustle against the low buzz of a fan
Cooling the King and Queen of this here land

Up those stairs to the balcony so familiar
Cool wind blows against exposed skin
Setting night lights deep inside the conscience
Resting the heart as it pitters and patters

Some Days (day 388)

Some days go by and they crawl up the wall
Seemingly scraping together time with broken memories
That pick at your wounds as you begin to fall asleep

Some days go by and drag their heels along the floor
Building up the tough skin that is disturbing to touch
Clearly letting go of all decency and elegance in a flash

Some days go by like the sun beating against a glass window
Heating up entire buildings from it’s mere affection
Darkening skin and inviting energy to be extrapolated

Some days go by as if showering was a rule
Fresh as the spring daisies that hide amongst a field of wheat grass
Stepping slightly quicker than the rest of the pack

Some days go by reminding me of mid winter’s frost
Sparkling brilliantly but very hard to look at with wide eyes
Usually requiring sunglasses to handle the glare

Some days go by and they run like the wind
Forgetting to stop for lunch and digging right in
Lost in the usual games but focused on one thought

Some days don’t ever end in spite all the killing
They make the butchers happy as they sharpen their knives
Slicing away the minutes, one by one

Sailing (day 387)

High up upon the alpine peaks
Like birds
Silently gliding through space
Every little whip of air sent

Outstretched hands pull tighter
The rope
Holding together the loose bits
Knit into one solid piece of fabric

Little Bubbles (day 386)

Silent lights blink calmly at me
Through these eyes of rain
Drizzling away the dust stains
With deep and dark circles of water
Soaking inwards to the core
With little bubbles of vitalization
Gaining new experiences they boost
The little tiny hairs that reside
On the back of my neck
Waiting just for moments like these
To tell me how I feel

Bite and Bleed (day 385)

Your words bite into me like daggers made of broken bones
Listlessly bleeding me of all my aggression and sorrow
Helping to rinse my pride of all that which it’s built
Caressing the dark corners of misery: afraid, weak

But I, in my kingdom of madness, reign
These contrived abstractions do not touch my countenance
Neither do they oppress in their venomous ways
Cross my legs and clear the lonely stares away

How do you feel when you sit there and watch me bleed?
Long silky rivers flow steadily outward into the street
Licking the broken pieces of yesterdays past
Dancing like memories deeper than my own mind

Blood lust and hungry, we attempt to gather strength
From the evil words spit at ones we’re loosing grip on
Ignorant of the true meaning such abscesses hold
Cancerous attacks on our own thirsty egos

Hometown (day 384)

A hometown is only a long town
Stressing it’s good side from the other
Running the wheels dry over the lumpy tarmac
Pushing in the memories that keep coming back
Late nights alone hiding in the closet I’ve never owned
Drinking the liquor I’ve never bought
Holding hands with the dog I’ve never walked
And again, it’s lovely to be here