Forgotten (day 2335)

I have not remembered the promise we made each other
No, I have forgot it just like the sunset we watched
And the kiss – we never shared
I did not walk those streets with you
In a foreign villa of unending desires
It was not of my hand that wrote thee thy letter
No, that would have broken my heart
To watch you walk off into the day
Of another dream I did not have.
I have not remembered the promise we made each other
And I have not watched the same movie on repeat
I do not remember curling up with you
Under my grandmother’s knit afghan,
Every time I take to my bike
I do not think of the basket upon yours
Instead I ring my bell so loud
My knees they knock me free.

Glossy Angel (day 2322)

Have I become a status update?
Words that have no meaning
In the tangible domain
An ego swelling at the possibilities
Inflation at our fingertips,
Choices in our heart.
Have I lost the moonlight
Amidst my electric glow?
My own thoughts displaced
By wings of a glossy angel.
And here I go,
Turning the page for more
Settling in for warmth
With my heart emoticon.

Glossy Angel by Ned Tobin

(re)born (day 2307)

This is my process and I’m not ok with it
I’m not swallowing it without a fight
Babbling long lines of dribble down my chin
With my wits left somewhere down the hall I’m not going back

Catch up to the statements
And leave some kind of order behind,
Stuffed in a shirt pocket that now sits
Bundled into a non-symmetrical clump.

“This is order?” I scream at the walls,
Figuratively clawing my way to the top of the jar;
Fingernails raw with contempt for sanity,
Chalk lines drawn with my saliva
In spirals that lead to nowhere
And a greasy smear on my chest that has been there
Since the day I was (re)born.

Grown (day 2276)

I’ve grown accustomed to pains in my soles
Boots tied tight and laces frayed at the ends.
I keep stepping over large trees
Under foliage so green
And I see old men walking in each bough
Sharing legends with my awake eyes
That keep my mind wandering
Through swamps and glades of spruce
Like a lost soul with a purpose;
A message written on sacred parchment
Enroute to all ends receivable
– Some unaccountable, some trustworthy,
Some in a jam and just looking for a way out –
I like marching and I’m good at it
And I’ve got my home about my back.

Reasoning (day 2268)

My reason left a black mark upon that open door
It reached up, seared the roof then clambered about the floor
Dragging it’s hefty tail each step along the way.
Lamenting, I cried into the rain splashing about my ankles
Until I made a lonely call that brought back each raven
And there we sat in harmony, speaking to each other free
As my marking upon the door began to float up, on, out the door.

Window Speak (day 2255)

What borders your mind
Living inside windows
Waving at only full moons
From the bottom
Of a claw foot tub.
Does conscience
Grab your envelope
Of regret as a child grabs
A pumpkin to smash?
My Lilies have grown up
Convincing dilated pupils
Of a two for one deal
They cannot pass up,
But you don’t like purple hearts
You dive deep into paper cups
Shredding tomorrow
With dull plastic knives
And this is goodbye
From your window I’m waving.

Connect (day 2254)

Calmness is my pressure
A systematic indulgence
That crosses over boundaries
Calling names
At single use disposable users
A tire track
With endless amounts of windows
At an ocean view exploration
A landfill with no name
With no responsibility
Because nobody actually knows
Where disposable income goes
Wake up with an eye sore
And slice the issue out
Organically disposable non-issue
An ocean of non-issue
A backyard of non-issue
A driveway with no grass
Beside a lawn with perfect grass
Clear boundaries
In a global world
Connected
Indiscreet and moving
Migrating in our uncomfort
Like comfortable shoes
Worn well
While shopping for a new pair
And comfortably disposing
Of my connect.

Edge of Me (day 2253)

It drops the edge out of me
Silence and methods and
Misunderstanding
I don’t know the cost
But I know the me
The truth in me
And it comes out in droves
That burst upon parkades
And spills into pastures
To edges of your existence
To be forgotten
Muted
Stumbled upon and missed
And closed.
A box being closed
Yet so delicately wrapped
And ornately carved
It is almost fit
It should rest closed
Yet each edge
Reminds me I’m still here
Resembling
A fifty year old maple
With buttons on my shoes.

Lines (day 2244)

How many times must my line
Get broken in the sand;
Watched you walk away
Silhouette in the sun.

There I stood without a thought
Three magic coins in my pocket;
Make me lean against a tree
I have no more support.

Gifts of which the bearer has
Left without intention;
I look into a calming pool
Tracing out each line again.