To Harbor (day 909)

It is hard to be away,
To waltz down the street
Without your hand in my elbow.
To eat alone.
Your face my thoughts company.
With moments of clarity
Sparking the fire
Inside my soul.
It’s harder to slip
Into cold sheets at night
Without knowing
When next you shall be waiting,
Giving, expecting.
Warm breath tickling my nape.
Warm smile to curb my blues,
Warm kitchen to feed my soul.
And when last I find grace,
Will harbor – my old bones –
Be welcome to thine dear heart?

To-Harbor-by-Ned-Tobin

Acceptance (day 903)

I am not the victim
Left hopeless in a pool of filth and inert shame
Wrong-doing receiver
Sad story and bitter ending

I am not the sufferer
Helplessly alone
Victim of circumstance
Aimless desires

I am not the casual
Random associations
Uninterestingly passive
Head down and walking

I am not the sober
Outcast
Big eyes and wide mouth
Annoyed

I am not yesterday
A lost wish
Crimson sunset
Or memories

I am acceptance

Athens - 092012 (36 of 411)

The Back Of the Book (day 896)

Why does the world have to die like this
An endless jaunt through crowded parks
Heartaches that climb up through the heart
Passed by breath from lung to lung
Lumping into salivial glands

Memories that remind innocence
How far time that’s yet to come
Has left them remembering why
An arrow has never remained straight
Lapping at the oceans edge

Each star, remaining a soul
Holding onto an unforgotten memory
Never understood, never accepted
Never wanted and hoped against
Battling with unending tests

I cry for this moment
For this death that whispers to all of us
Screeching to a halt in accidental disarray
I am not a cause for understanding
Victimless and harmless and misunderstood

So remind me of an arching smile
Radiating eyes and hugs that last too long
Leave me remembering what will never again be
Again, a lost answer in the back of the book
A scribbled name in hasty mischief

Tears running below my chin
Death so close I can touch it
A hurt longing for the tips of my toes
The soul hovering
As a chance of love and heartache and an unending story

Frosty Morning Saunter (day 891)

A motionless saunter through the cold grass leaving footsteps every bloody place that I go and picking up my feet without tying up the laces because the gloves on my hands are too warm and the air is too cold but the path ahead is shaking and quivering in unrelenting uncontrolled mastery non-mastery in spite my insistence on leaving my hands out of their pockets to fight this urge to cower and shelter from the brutal elements hoping to bridge the gap between strength and toughness without too many frost bites but this is ok because I read about it in a book that told me I should and it told me it’s valiant and it told me I can walk on coals with bare feet too because the skin between my toes is too soft and could use a good toughen up but oh my look at that large dog walking down the now covered in leaves path about to jump up on me because I treat it like a human being and acknowledge it’s existence for who in their right mind wouldn’t want to jump up on me with such an acknowledgement but you know the dog is so friggen big it’s like a young man feeding must be expensive is all I can think as my steps trace up the frozen tarmac slipping on the thin layer of ice hardly visible and highly wavering but all is good because I’m about to peak this crest and stand for a moment on the highest point and survey my kingdom for it is my kingdom for it is my kingdom for it is my kingdom that I survey due to my commitment to walk the coldest slippery path in all the woods in the mornings before the dusk has settled in and after all of the leaves have come flying down to the maker of their fate named gravity and decay and decomposition and footsteps along the singletrack path between the naked branches of thinner than I thought birch trees awaiting the bounty of springs sunshine because I’m not ready to give up on the year yet I’ve got plans to formulate and materialize and time to waste and sleep to never catch up on and a nice warm cup of coffee around noon because I’ve begun to let down my guard for certain things as I raise my guard for garbage and consumption and waste and destruction of our land this land my land my kingdom I saunter through on this cold frosty morning good morning world good morning world good morning world get up and go now take it off.

Where By Now (day 890)

I am loosing my way, path
My sight and vision that has drawn me
That has layered my soul
To be unraveled
Alone, confused
Clouded in a misguided belief
Loaned out to the public
Really, truthfully
Abandoned
Shifted like last season
Disregarded
Where by now
Amidst my centered thought
I have no more whole
And while lost along the way
I have imagined I
Am
Whole
To be purely mistaken
As if a premature frost
Escaping the night

There I Lie (day 889)

There I lie
Face turned towards the heavens imploring
Seeking questions
Yet written on my mind

Sun scattered eyes
Blurring crimson edges
Setting fire to
Out of focus pins and needles

Before deaths cry
Wind whispers shallow markings
On seasons frozen skin
Betraying movement

And forgotten
A heavy coat leaves
Memories
Without occupation

2013.10.23 - Prince George Trails