My water buffalo languishes,
He stumbles and wears lollipops
In his big ears.
Like fountains and mountains
And entropy in the wind,
Like envelopes and cantaloupes
On my mothers antique oak.
I droop with my succulent.
I hang out to dry
On an island in the sun
With passing blossoms
Scalloped to catch rain.
Month: June 2014
Awakeless Surrender (day 1121)
Glaciers awoke my surrender.
I am not a window shopper,
A figureless void of deadly consistence
That scrapes along the expanse
Of doubly criss-crossed salt scapes;
Littered emptiness.
Vast emptiness
Crawling up the back of my spine,
Lightly dusted with ten days rolling.
This is the heartbeat.
The beat.
The heartbeat, beating.
Surrender in a tight grip.
Moments before forbidden flavor
Hits the freshness of thy tongue.
Laughter in childern.
Sounds of awoken footsteps,
And I am not crawling.
Windswept Horizons on a Country Landscape (day 1120)
Lilies and my sister’s name.
Leftover intelligence’s silent shame;
Gaia’s ugly hour in tears,
And I am the fears.
I am the whispering remains.
A Chance to Be Faculty and Chief (day 1119)
A valley, like my mind, may look empty on the inside – void of all that makes up matter. Void of all the mass that builds houses and factories and city roads and flower gardens and traffic jams.
For cannot this still matter? I am lost in a wasted land, and the fight challenges my patience along grated edges of wisdom.
Do you hear the sharp bells ringing? Is this the difference that is ringing, or has freedom finally called my name?
The sheath shall sadly fall apart, ragged from too much use like a cocktail napkin at a lipstick party. History shall not scream loudly here. This is not the bitter pages of a non-fiction picture book.
Here we have wrinkled tin garbage cans rolling lifelessly along unkempt lawns of former princes’, former glory holes that believed in a dream. A lifeless dream built on waste management systems and recycling plans.
So I cannot spoil my food anymore. My valley – running deep – is the chance to be faculty and chief. My valley is the early morning breath and the dying chances. My valley is the shortened season and the wilderness.
My valley is me, and I’ve begun to see.
Little Spoon (day 1118)
I am the little spoon
That lives in the hill,
Scalloping hoodwinks
With masterful might.
An age old tradition
My father’s father told,
Forgiveness unheard to
Plant out my soul,
For I am the little spoon!
Happy lives fold.
Yet here I am
Amongst leftover pine,
A scraggly drain
In a dirty edged pond,
Mystery splashes
To my father’s better half,
Which I cannot explain anymore.
Which I ply with my little spoon.
Desire Root (day 1117)
I am living unearthed
Separated from my root
Desire spreads deep.
Crazy, and amazing:
A freedom I am able,
Lifting and light.
To where letters fall down,
Sifting like fine sands
Into unforgotten hands.
Rest is never fate.
Desire waste-not,
I’ve landed again.
Still Love (day 1116)
And there’s still love
For the happiness remains;
Sunshine and my eyes.
Which I hold love.
And the grapevine
Tangling up my heart
Sends circles and circles
Spinning in to love.
And I call home
To happiness by name.
Where I feel love
Which is everything to remain.
Whispers from My Tongue (day 1115)
This sky, and whispers from my tongue
Through fights: torrents and storms.
I wonder what shakes them forth…
So then my whispers should linger
Like my footsteps echo through these halls;
Cobblestone roads and rickety signs,
Darkness offset by lanterns dancing with my mind.
I let it shake and I cannot sigh,
For winter’s warmth stayed awake today
To brandish my armor as I let them fly
Upon winds that returned my whispers.
Your Love (day 1114)
By my side
It is warmth
From your presence
Valley’s Echo (day 1113)
Your heart is not a valley away,
Nor a diamond left unbought.
Though time discovers all our pain,
Lifting our sins to meet the eye,
To shatter history spent in plans.
To know is like a misspent truth;
To touch the wings of a butterfly;
To give up on the fight.
Where I’m left standing,
Yelling: “My heart is on my sleeve.”
Which I’m not here to wear,
I am here to give alone.
Where I hear the valley’s echo.
