Window shopping down an alley in Hell
The Keeper found one perfect device for all’s demise.
It spoke to him through double paned and tinted glass
Covered with festive snowflakes and cheer.
It sat beside the fat Santa and eight reindeer,
Each one much smaller than Santa himself.
And two cute little stuffed mice that squeaked as he stood there
Calculating and eyeballing the end of it all.
It wasn’t until the merchant smiled
And waved The Keeper on in
That he realized it hadn’t just been him watching in,
But destiny and patience had laid this plan many snowfall ago.
And all he had to do was smile
As the jolly merchant carefully wrapped
The perfect device into an old newspaper
And taped the loose ends together
Before he kindly asked: “Cash or credit, Keeper?”
Month: December 2014
Another Song (day 1305)
He lost a lover to another song.
She had always floated on
To a tune he kept trying to sing,
But as Summer Solstice sends away
Warmer sunny days,
He was never held the same.
Never wisdom on better days.
And then she danced away.
A Hazy Memory (day 1304)
Whispering as the highway rolled on
Curling around giant pillars
To big to divert.
Azur shades reflected memories
That hazed along waves of transilluminescence.
Small shapes far off in the distance
Brought imagination to present
That click-clocked believable thought.
Dusty blankets draped loosely
Over tall shoulders held proud,
Warm tea wafting around the room.
And an old dusty broom
Leaned lifelessly up against the
Wire mesh make-shift windows.
Rolled On (day 1303)
I screamed from head to feet
With dragging dreams
Slipping down the lonesome path
Of all I’ve ever wanted.
And from here a whisper started,
Like a row of columns
Three hundred feet tall;
Built by the hands of iron giants
Who spoke only in grunts.
My itchy trigger finger
Gargled a strong glass of salt water,
And spit truth onto dry solid ground
That crackled underneath the weight of my
Soft leather soles, wrapping their
Loose ends half way up my calf.
Thankfully I knew how to walk,
I knew that all good things
Come at the end of the row,
So I buttoned up my callused shell
And I rolled on.
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/182421629″ params=”auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true” width=”100%” height=”450″ iframe=”true” /]
From My Heart and Throat (day 1302)
Some days I don’t want to exist anymore.
Some days I don’t want truth to be hovering
Around the center vortex of my cranium.
And it’s not even a weight,
It’s a lifting feeling that attaches itself
And continually pulls my gaze
..and hands
To face collecting clouds with nothing but
Questions rolling from heart and throat and
Rain drops that keep falling down my face.
Daffodils at Midnight (day 1301)
Daffodils start bleeding from my heart
In a slow waltz on repeat.
Here I yearn for my midnight sequence
That has pushed me to my pointe,
To this elegant embrace, eternally romantic,
With no leftovers breathing hopelessly
As night gets turned down low.
A midnight candle’s glow.
Sun Caught Dust Spots (day 1300)
The Elegantarian floats on my memory,
Through wisdom and mercy
And dandilions caught in wind wasps.
And like these delicate pages
That curl around my intrigued thoughts,
I follow the trail of dust caught in sunlight
To the end of my memory
Where my lone pen carries onward.
Bright Workings (day 1299)
Rhythm and love shakes me.
Feeling and all of it makes me.
Haven’t been down lately.
Are you coming around, baby?
Can you feel me inside nighttime,
Like glitter in these light wines.
I’m a fountain of love baby,
You’re shaking all over tonight lines.
Feel me, as emotion entangles,
Setting fire to stage that surrounds me.
See this town as electric midnights
That strangle blackness from tonight.
Dreams (day 1298)
One day
– I swear –
I’ll be milking the stars,
Shooting guns,
And dusting roses
With all of
My dreams.
Mistaken (day 1297)
Mistaken identities reel me,
They collapse my reason
And shuffle my logic into
Tiny boxes that are overflowing
And upset and forgotten,
Lisping away in the corner
With curse words and condemnations.
I filter my logic on some days,
Letting it roll over me in a
Slow head nod with raspberry pudding.
But in the end of most of these days,
I’m still left reeled: reeling.
Misunderstood and forgotten,
Turned away at the door,
Catching my breath and lying awake
At midnight, mistaken.