A Poet Does Wander (day 37)

Confused wouldn’t explain anything
It would just deepen the roots of distaste
Idling in the same spot
Ingesting the poisonous fumes

Like birds that fly dizzily
Into oncoming traffic; stuck
Swishing from side to side in an unbalanced act
Turned around by the speeding vortex

With time the falling leaf
Stuck in the same surrender, lands
And all around, like a mothers hug
Settling exists within

Exorcism (day 34)

It’s a crippling numbness
Settling me into my spot as I sit here and wait
Hoping for something but not receiving
Why do I wait like it’s a choice I can will:
The existence is truth, if I think hard enough

Yet I lose all motivation
As if calling the setting sun out while loosing daylight
Flushed, to worried to move, to pressured to stay
To meaningful to blow off
To surprised to react
To alone to feel the real impact
To young to exist any other way

Tired (day 32)

Tired this late
When slow songs permeate
Deep into starry nights silent shadows

Pillows and nets
With weighted down blankets
Millions of tiny little hallows

Divine the time
Pick up the books and rhyme
Button up shirts and collar tied bows

Be gone my lad
Fear not the fading fad
Illuminated night a star still glows

Luck (day 22)

With one small jump
A leap of faith
Power held deep
Body; out from within

Grow, vote!
Signals of choice
Aura of voice
Dance in the streets

Aggravate the alchemist
With questions unheard
Inspire the creative
With voices unseen

A solo date
Ballad the masquerade
Carry the team
You. Me. Luck

In Faith We Often Wander (day 9)

As autumn turns white as pearls
I’ve never let you go
As leaves have long since fallen
There’s never been inward fog

As ices water our fields
Birth it neighs with life
Wobbly knees and scared eyes
There’s never been overwhelming rains

As the rains have been scared by gold
Navy blues, purples, and burgundies
Watching the bee lazily wander
No searing burns have ever fazed

As sprouts begin to curl
What was calf is now a cow
Vibrant greens have all turned yellow
Yet still no weathering of my soul

Or Is It? (day 4)

Perhaps this is just a bout;
An uncontrollable, weather related
Matter, which my body will soon
With my comfort in mind
Correct itself of
Leaving me screaming for joy
Like the horrible acting
Of a clean laundry commercial

Or maybe I’m getting a cold..