A Claim (day 2843)

It was not my claim,
Not could it ever have been
To be lost with controlled madness
On a motorcycle
Going fifty kilometers per hour.
The roads were too dusty,
Too slow,
Too quiet for forgiveness
To be called out
In a manner that did not support
Each dying ember of humanity.
And the glasses were of the new world,
A signal for misunderstanding
– Modern mythological errors
Combed with a brush of the future.
I merely sat there,
I did not dust off the seat
I did not wear deceiving clothes
I did not paint my hair black
Or red or green or blue,
And my wings ever grew
Until I no longer sat alone
Accompanied by history untold
That whispered flickers
Of a language with no words
To my clouded eyes
Laid bare.

Permit Me Sight (day 2837)

Can one day your abundance touch me?
Truth like lightening bolts
Thrown from Zeus himself.
And my eyes shall see openings
From whence your sail shall catch wind,
Pulling me towards ancient speed
Roaring in fierce aftermath
Abundantly striking me free.

Inverted extramere
I shall not turn my eye,
Though wrath of the God shall torture me
For it is in his kingdom
You shall dare set me free.
And in my deepest of layers
– Of which only then permit me sight,
It has always been mine blindness –
Call on me to share.

Read me like I am all here,
Nor leave me without all signs.
There I sit in mine throne
Stretched in abundance and call,
Laid bare as shown Virgil
And my heart reigned for thy lightening bolt
Sight into thine eyes.

Enslaved (day 2828)

Moral resources grow stronger
The more thy soul does learn
Envision what this destiny
Could look like all around.

For in the skies, no longer streaking
Would be what Heavens divine,
No act of God unspoken for
That lacked full consciousness.

Upon the ground, each footstep taken
Would be of a more focused breadth,
One that swept with kindness, outward
Approaching the day with care.

Amidst the air would be pure waves,
No abstracted vibrations lost in space,
Each word so designed for to reach our neighbour
So kindly thought and presented.

Our eyes would see true meaning
So that no deceit could enter near,
No vagabond, no trickster magician
Could spread fear we didn’t know.

Yet depth amidst our pure resource
Grows weaker every day,
Though we know what kind can create
It falls away: enslaved.

Congruency (day 2823)

What brings me into a place of dawn?
– Could lamp shades
Not recollect
Ten thousand words
Once spoken in privacy? –
Early morning stardust
Upon crouching wheatgrass
Shaking its memories
While endlessly searching
Library shelves
For one forgotten phrase
That used to mean a lot;
Congruency.

Entirely Audible (day 2822)

I do not know what I want to hear
Sweet voices
Tambourines
Drawn out organs
Single noted cellos.
Sounds have become adjusted
To a key un-lay,
Not entirely audible
But clearly a deeper feeling
That rests not
Incus and Malleus…
Deeper.
Tap roots of an ancient breath
Hammered into shape,
Ten thousand soldiers,
Fire and Dragon’s wings.

Becoming (day 2821)

What is it that has fallen
Deep into the ravine of life?
Glee?
Say naught your revival
Heart of subconscious,
There exists no more greenscape
– Though Spring all around –
Barren and lifeless
Rocks and charred stumps
It is grave, this desire
And it shall no more be confined
To rotten corners of hidden gems
Nay, it has become.

Oak Leaves (day 2820)

It is a problem,
For I have not found it here yet.
Spires have taken my holiness
Unaccounted for,
Untrained,
Un-restricted.
Like a dove in flight,
But without regret.
There shall be no more passion,
No more emotional choices.
So it lays thus, solid and lifeless,
Awaiting a deep agony,
A lifeless sympathy,
That shall agree with
No more of this world
And of its gains.
Floundered,
Spinning into earth
Yet leaving marks: vivid,
As the Oak leaf stays
Through Winter.

Cello of Darkness (day 2817)

It is hard to escape the sadness that runs down the edges of this window
Soaked and spotted by the dark rains, so.
Even Spider who comes to visit plays a long, slow song
Nearly a single note with a cello of darkness.
How tranquil such existence can be
Back and forth Rocking Chair sits endlessly in solitude
Grayed and white cracks endure long years of neglect
That crumble even the greatness they once held in Master’s hands.
I am looking for something greater,
Something with meaning that enlivens the pale skin
Peering back at me through the long window;
I seek its desires by reaching out towards the sheen
But no enveloping touch returns, no embracing moment of reflection ensues
And all that’s left is a smudge that diverts my deepest intentions
Towards a solitude that knows no name.
You don’t have to remember me to spread your wings so wide,
Though the wind catches better at one’s thoughts when it floats away just so
For it is here that there is no breath anymore.
It has been and perhaps once again shall come again
So it is here that I’ll wait evermore.