Formulated Crumble (day 1149)

Biscuit bushes crash my landing
Stumbling from here to there
Upside down maps in a field of grass;
Whatever the cost.

Twin bed of memories;
I couldn’t sleep tonight.
I couldn’t crumble my formulated wealth
Into sub-sectional mastery.

But if I was a truth say’er
Gifting this shit into inexperienced hands…
If I was withered like soul-less dumplings
I’d be the better man, smoking gaily.

Drugs in Mom’s House (day 1145)

A passive sales strategy
Sitting lonely on my mother’s couch
Wriggling into uncertainty
I watch through a dusty glass
Tripping all the alarms
Tipping the Chancellor off
To an undercover sedated tragedy
And Earl wandering.
Smokey-Joe pan-handling
And I’m a lonely gravity
As a slow song plays
Like apple cider vinegar
Going straight to my heart.

Into My Ear (day 1142)

A little sick soldier floated into my ear today.
He loudly exclaimed he was here to stay.
Over tea we discussed merry things,
Like rooibos tea, poppies,
And the smell of honey on a pretty girls lonely lips.
We both cringed.
We both sighed and laughed
With wicket intensity
That held my soul
Into unconditional surrender.
For after all, I survived these
Battle scars and sleepless memories.

Smokey Summer (day 1136)

Smokey bandages flutter through the evening sky.
An autumn sun burns the day’s light
Through whiskey breath and campfire.
Cooling breeze shelters the afflicted from blackened breath,
Dire, sister, dire.
Animals have no home, foraging between un-agreed upon lines of human traffic.
Chain link fences only survive through this madness.

Leftover Lovers (day 1110)

She was a woman who cared for her lovers
The same she cared for beggars and friends.
A little lone heart with a name stuffed with blues;
Hobo’s delight in a $10 Marlborough,
And my love never lasted in that smoke-house saloon.
Love in a little back door room.
My dreams and I was heartache by Tuesday.
Though I swam like a digger, I was surfaced and saved
In my own lonesome song.
She was a heart made up of elastics
And my twangy delivery
Was the Wednesday that I’d never start.

So don’t go treating your lovers
Like left over flipping page books.
It’s a forgotten stack, the dusty pile,
And we’re a never ending love song
With toes getting colder.
A common answer to sufferin we kept inflicting,
Two unspoken lovers on two lost Sundays.
Two out of tune guitars
Waiting to behold warmer mornings,
Just waiting on leftover tea.

She made me get up later
So we could talk of traveling gypsies
And listen to leftover records
We’d forgotten to play with brandy.
I collected your answers in tiny glass jars
For your leftover spells.
I wasn’t branded in passion;
Painted on that old saloon wall
With some unspoken love song
And leftover cigarettes sailing the sea
As I woke up to Wednesday
On a Tuesday afternoon.

Flower’s Heart (day 1090)

I’ve got memories stored deep inside a flower’s heart.
It’s named sunshine and a memory
For your hidden broken secret.
Nobody knows, and it’s
Nobody knows.
Dancing with the street lights,
Unmarked walls of silent hallways.
Which have me singing out loudly
With angry pixies and upset fairies.
Lightly dancing strings of laughter
About my hidden secrets name,
Knowing I’m forever dreaming
Deep inside this heart’s remains.
This flower never after.
Nobody knows, and it’s
Nobody knows.

Sunken (day 1084)

I’ve lost my ways, forgotten and tilted,
My wings, they’ve bent all up and wilted.
They’ve shook out wildly their last flutter,
Left me to scramble my eggs in butter.

I used to hold my whispers tightly
But now I’m lost forever, nightly.
And to my breath I speak not warmth
For long gone dark, my sunken hearth.

When gone I’d toil a long days work,
To make a home, to fill my fork.
Though since my leaf has been unsheathed
I’ve lost my will to hold, to breath.

I pray to come, a return of my memory
To overcome my being, my sensory.
But if I were to forget it all,
Would I ever wonder how?

A Discussion With Myself (day 1077)

day 1
What discusses me?
Sits in its bedroom late at night
And debates.
Contemplates.
Deliberates and swaps memories
With fact like evidence.

day 2
What discusses me?
In a large cozied pot
Of herbal mint tea leaves.
A fortune read.
Destiny.
Visions undecided.

day 3
What discusses me?
In my discussions with my lonely mind,
Flip-flopping wrinkled sheets
That crease my minds
Soft footsteps
Through lazy Sundays.