Cadaverous Embrace (day 1750)

I marked my diary with a black heart yesterday,
Signalling yet another loss of a piece of me
To a lancet, delicately embraced by a cadaverous hand
Tightly hemmed in mourning lace.
Upon my wrinkly pages I wrote of lament so thick
Leaves dropped freely in my eerie breeze,
And my nigh filled dipping pen
Opulently embarking upon saintly rites
Deep into the cold moon’s full embrace,
For this unsettled heart beat thick.

Cadaverous Embrace by Ned Tobin

Dusty Old Artifacts (day 1748)

I believed just so strongly that you would be the one
So much so that I chairiscuro’d my heart into day and night,
Night and day.
So longing with my open arms I stood uninterested,
Drooping at edges of my sanity
That left holes so deeply imprinted into my unknown matter
I had successfully reprinted what I’d callously called
“Out of Stock.”
Now? Now I would like to re-brand my interests,
Remove all the old artifacts that so delicately had collected
Dusty particles of my memory,
And remind myself how little it mattered in the end –
Dust being all that could sprinkle our dearest dreams –
As raindrops came tumbling down upon a rainbow I’d ignited.
So my desert teardrops exclaimed to my heartbeat, strong,
Oh this desperado desolato,
In an anguish that I could not anticipate…
Because spring had not yet sprung.

Sweet Nothings (day 1746)

I can’t take,
No. More.
I don’t want to take
Bitter trivialities
Into Madness
Cloaking an angelic voice
Like fog that rolls
About my brain
Before I’ve uncovered
Melancholy feelings
Resting just below
Its surface,
Reeling in abysmal horror
As toxins begin
To take to my veins
And surround my insight
With sweet nothings.

Into a Hole, A-ho (day 1745)

I wonder, pacing back and forth in the middle of light,
Is there something that’s become thus turbulent undertow?
Have I designed such fit for feet of strangers?

Long walks alone in a forest captures my heart,
Where has thy sweet sun crept away to? I ask in earnest to nodding nuances,
But no answers come back, though I implore twice for free.

Meanwhile slow approaching whisps sling past in a haze of unkempt mystery
Shrouded in man-made asphalt that collects at its side big puddles
For jumping.

And yet my friends among the silence who stand motionlessly absorbent
Carry weight of history so thickly my stomach begins to grumble,
My breath begins to abate me, and a slow tear finds its way into a hole.

So my wandering takes me back to a place I’ve always been
A question that’s never left the tips of my heart-hole that resists coldness
Keeping my toes so at night but warming my soul into abundantly undone.

Vancouver Island Victoria Port Renfrew Trestle - Ned Tobin

The Ruin (day 1742)

Empty pill bottles slammed into the rusty cages of my heart
Leading my hopelessness on a two part story,
Part 1: The Ruin
Part 2: The End.
I’m sympathetic to wasps that buzz around my head as I divert my pure thoughts,
Only had I known their tapping of my consciousness could harness heaven,
For I was scrubbing furiously with a wire brush
To scrape every last bit of rust from my hopes.

Our Hearts (day 1738)

In a blink of an eye
It didn’t fade off and die,
It took years of tapering away.

Our hearts slowly bulging
Lost subtlety in lies,
Secrecy, and imagined constructs.

And our eyes still glow
Deep stare as our high,
None else becometh what matters.

Yet slowly our deceiving
Left us sleepless at nigh’,
Wreckless pitter-patter noise.

And all for believing
Pure random deceiving
To be lost in forever, goodbye.

Pull My Arrow (day 1737)

I travel to lonely points of inactivity;
Challenge even the iron hearts,
Let my fruit fall all about me here
And lose my heart to a beating drum.
I crawl down to the setting sun;
Steep slope and I’m bleeding mom,
Hands gnarled, so let me gently down
Back to my cold and lonely ground.
I’ve swept out the tangled mess;
Chilling webs of my sweet duress,
If an Angel should come right now
Pull my arrow to shoot her down.

Pull My Arrow by Ned Tobin

Letters with Hearts (day 1735)

I remember the golden letter
I signed my last goodbye with,
A script I was particular proud of
With a rusty ol’ dipping pen
Tied up with lies and eternity
And how many times have I chosen to
Wave goodbye to you.
So I stuffed mixed emotions
Into a ball into my pocket
Sat on it for two days
And mailed it with no address.

Letters With Hearts by Ned Tobin

Like Fire (day 1732)

I do not enjoy this closed solution
These open arms like fire
A road well worn in a town well shorn
And a voice long gone raspy.
Do you try so hard
To make the wolves howl loud?
I’ve seen a tree grow straighter
Then your twisted mind
And I’m closing down
This memory
That’s holding onto me like fire.

Setting Sun (day 1730)

I am sorry for the overdraft on expenses
For the withdrawal of complete funds
And exercising my options.

But I’m not.

I’m lying and it’s not a puddle of sadness.
I’m drowning and it’s not because of the waterline,
It’s a challenge and that’s just alright.

Cause Momma’s pullin in six figures
And Daddy’s got a gun
And I ain’t coming back from paradise
‘Til long after setting sun.