Self Doubt Gallows (day 2417)

I held my hand out to the sky
An act of bold courage
Asking for the strength within;
It was to me as clear
As the sky I reached towards
Already upon my breast
Telling me what little I knew
What steps I had begun
More sternly though
What steps I had to go.
So I clenched my fist down
Emancipated at once
From the gallows of self doubt.

Endlessly Lost Wisdom (day 2406)

I’m going to become a broadscape of chattering
Little chipmunk in my hair
Rattling long speeches
The great Lizard Man would be proud of
Epic monologues
Banter and rebut
Soapboxing my way towards
An immobilization
Frozen by complex axioms
Criss-crossing a deserted wooden chair
Supported by bent half inch plywood
That understands my troubles
Like the Lizard Man does.
Who could have guessed it?
Lost in that immediate broadscape
Of endlessly lost wisdom.

Surrender Inside (day 2397)

What is this?
Can you put a name upon it?
I’ve gone inside my confusion
And come upon some axioms
That define failure
And unlimited freedom
Complications
That I’m not equipped to understand.
So there I stood
I wanted reason
And stood for abandon
I wanted a formula
But there looking back at me
Sat wide eyed loss of control
And I knew I had to surrender.

Letters in her Name (day 2360)

Letters in her name were written
Softly in his hand
Two times he wrote them out
One for each their dearest pocket.

– Could it symbolize their path?
Sequestration of thy heart –

To each thy moon
Held, succumb’d to fate
Was at thee other’s
Fulfilling sun.
Though seasons matched,
Callused hands
Caused the ocean
To remain
Disunited.

– Seasoned seas could not forgive
Even as thy beggar holds –

Placed into canals
Where roses floated softly
Sat thoughts burgeoning
As if memory’s remains
Were fertile soil
To plant new clippings
Sitting abreast.

Tired (day 2347)

I’ve found this tired
That I’m afraid I cannot shake
My eyes feel glazed
And legs so weak
My shoulders are heavy
My breath does not penetrate
Deeply like true breathing should
Perhaps it’s from
Listlessness of life
Here out on the road
Wandering from meal to meal
No direction to be told
And I’m facing a runaway
Looking into the center of self
Exposed and pushing on.

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.