Scoring and packing
Dicing and slicing
Thickening and serving
Month: January 2016
Storm is on the Ni’ (day 1696)
Weathered by the storm one night
I lay awake in bed,
Trusty steed loose outside
To fare for his warmth, amidst.
I’ve got a heart of gold and
I left my shoes tidy by the door.
Stayed up all night watching
Stars shoot through the sky,
And you told me twice that I
Had led you down the right road.
Now you come home and
Lay awake in bed,
Lay beside me when
Storm is on the ni’.
Chewing Gum (day 1695)
I smoked today’s last heavy gun
Two by two and just for fun.
Along the plain I saw the sun;
Little bum, little bum.
Cauliflower, chewing gum
I am going home to see dear mom.
Messy Letters (day 1694)
A letter came today
To say
I had a missing cause.
I had a note
That filled me up
With angles and
Ink blotches.
Floating Soul (day 1693)
Float my soul as wind does blow;
A field of drifting snow.
Long grass will tickle my fleeting heart,
Field posts as my deep breath.
My wisdom is an open sea
Torrenting above this frozen ground,
Truth for which I’m steady holds
Dirt which refuses me
The steady pull of gravity.
And in this I shall forever find
Patience of the naked deciduous,
A lark, yet steadfast cold.
Forgetting (day 1692)
So can you rummage through my mind again?
Slow down at three AM
With subtle whispers and soft music
Invited in through lacey secrets
And a maze of forgetting.
Charm Bracelet (day 1691)
My heart crawled in late
To the after hours disco.
I wore too much black,
To little eye liner.
I had leather soles,
Not these leather souls
All the latex and spandex
Kids wore like charm bracelets
Around their wrists in play.
And I didn’t jingle enough.
Looking For Hope (day 1690)
From lines dragging down my wrists
I observed patience in a drop,
Dripping from my pointed forefinger
That rummaged odd bits discarded into
An old tin box.
I was looking for hope,
But instead found rusty nails
That left ocre upon my calloused tip,
Long ago since numb.
Dumping the remains onto the desk, I read out loud the words
That had been etched into the underside
By an uneven hand:
BOX 05 – EVIDENCE
These words sounded hallow,
And my thoughts once again followed
My wrists lines dripping
Onto the desk where an empty cartridge
Slowly rolled back and forth.
A Dream (day 1689)
I hung onto raindrops
That caressed a blurry,
Single paned window
Sitting empty in a dusty house,
Too tall for company.
I flicked white paint
Peeling along the border,
Imagining my memory
Washed away by a doorbell
That signalled good news.
Of course, a dream
Only dreams,
For never has a swan been seen
Basking among scarred lands:
Desolate trees with
Children’s toys scattered,
Left behind in a moments rush
Towards a meaning to all this silence.
Cold Personalities (day 1688)
I’m undone,
Crisscrossing paths
Of two strangers
Among many stranger,
Colder personalities.
Could a wind
Possibly blow
In opposite directions
At the same time,
Splitting thoughts
Outlined with questions
And forgetting to
Count down from ten
After panic strikes in.