Category Archives: I’m Watching You

Ode to a Honey Bee (day 2221)

Your lazy way fills up my mind
With honey bags full and plump
So heavy that your wandering
Feels delightfully like a wobbly jaunt
Hand in hand again.
It reminds me of days spent
Lounging in floral gardens,
Where I, too, did float about
From yellow, pink, and purple too
Into deep recesses of sacred jewels.
You dance in front of my very eyes
Miraculasly grabbing hold of flowers
So delicate looking and forever blooming
Scarcely able to hold your weight,
Now stuffed so full with sweet gold
And off to home you go.

Blueberries (day 1955)

I bring my soul into your every hair
Dangling there
An extension
Floating and waving upon your whim
And sunshine
Marks my smile
As the golden hour I should tell
Clears minds
And hurries home
With a full basket of blueberries

2015-09-26-jamie-lee-mock-ned-tobin-urban-sunshine-22-of-374-2

The Boxer (day 1933)

You were a boxer
Every Thursday night
After Big Jim’s Saloon
Took a bottle and you
Out to a cobblestone night.
A muffled mind with intention,
Fireworks covered in mud,
And a slow slur that wound up
Like Roadrunner
Walking a tightrope,
The top rope
Of a dark, four cornered ring.
You liked the big city
Because your slow down
Never coincided with a dead end.
Your betting days
Flashed jackpot on your bedroom wall:
Red, green, and yellow.
And your highschool sweetheart
Hung alone on peeling paper
That crackled back at you
As you walked naked
From your bedroom
To a comfortable routine
You knew so well.

Asked to be An Angel Again (day 1813)

I was asked to become a guardian
Down low, down low, in a bottom of mud.
Too late, I said,
Coughing and excusing myself;
Toxicity had taken control
Of my asthma, uncontrollably
Letting my lungs flank
Sides of this yellow pole.
I smiled nicely
At the man who said something,
But to him, I wasn’t listening,
I was to busy snoring.
Excuse me, I said,
Under my breath
And a fly came and landed
Above my head,
So I moved on again, up high, up high.

Dirtbag Scumbag (day 1812)

Dirtbag scumbag
Roll my eyes into this guise
Made-up offending
Ruling this land
And let it be that we don’t care
For what sure aren’t feeling
And there’s a long line
Waiting for tattoos at
Minivan alley.
This ol’ destroyed board
Traded for a pinstripe man
Waiting down the alley
From hunger land
That never came:
Gone too far.

Trying (day 1811)

I know I should take the bait
Take a long lineup of hardship
And exchange it for matching shoes
With couples pillows
And a constant strain
On the middleman
Who religiously writes me, nicely,
Every two weeks to tell me it’s OK
And leaves me wondering
What I had once thought
Was a romantic idea,
Because IKEA has enough assemblage
To make my choice just hard enough
That I won’t mind inspiration
Now filled with a cacti,
Leaving little room
For an inspired thought
That keeps me thinking I’m trying.
And I am trying.

Plans, Man (day 1712)

Yesterday I was a man
Today I have no sin
A better man,
A bigger name,
Confessed and over spent.
Am I awake?
I’ve pinched myself
I see with my two eyes.
Yet here I sit
Under used
And selling ideas
For a much bigger plan.

Afternoon Buzz (day 1594)

I hear the sounds of last night’s rain
Dripping off the guitar man upstairs
Like he’s drinking an unmarked bottle of wine
With candles stuffed inside
Green colored empties everywhere.
His pancake heart is shifting
As his torn-bottom baggy jeans scuff
His unease like a broken pencil
And no sharpener.
But two fifteen will buy a slow drip
In a soft-white ceramic self-logo
– Without refill – from a beanie-topped
Organic cycler that always smiles
And talks in soft tones to her cute co-worker
Humoring her choice in music.

Drying Grime (day 1591)

Loser my integration
Chop all my hair off
And crawl around muddy
With a holey umbrella
Crackling at Gods
Who have tormented
Mute city sidewalks
Just as lame bullywicks
Who discard butts
Like scabs they
Incessantly pick at.
And sweep drying grime
Across squished bananas
To make a heart beat
Again tomorrow.

20151003 - Ned Tobin - 64

Royal (day 1589)

I am at every turn
A dancer
A graceful being
Waltzing through life
On pointe
And in glorious tights.
My eyes catch moments of
Limelight
Echoing off
The farthest seats
That speak
In deep royal reds
And fogs of blue.

2012.04.27 - Rio Burlesque

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