At Sea’s Shore (day 1500)

Wisdom is an empty sea
And I have gone too far.
I lost my rope, my sign, my star
To keep me mind at ease.
But in this dream my mind was free!
Not holding on as tar,
A flow that never was thy scar.
For if the heart pulls back to flee
The soul knows: nevermore,
Which leaves a man in misery –
A fate no soul should score.
So which of you are ready for:
The lad with eyes of mystery,
Or a maiden waiting at sea’s shore?

Floating Home (day 1493)

I am floating as if observing
And not returning home.
I am a ruffling cloud nearing dusk
Upon a serene and hot evening
At the lake smelling like campfire.
I am nonsense trickling off into night
In rattles and clacking,
As lonesome restlessly lays naked
Aside discarded sheets
And a light layer of sweat.

Pocket Watch (day 1490)

I’m starting to lose focus on time,
Like the 99 heading straight to Nowhere.
The capital city of: I’ve never been there.
Anger, danger, regret, strength,
Oblivion in a massive entanglement
Of red arrows and pick up sticks.
There was some antidote
As time slipped it’s age-old
Abbra-cadabra magic betwixt
Reason and murder, holy truth and destiny.
I can’t pass this challenge
Even though my perfect pocket watch
Clicks an even tick at high-noon.
I love, but this is no love.
Entangled with soul and wisdom,
Heartbeat to a slow beat
With loose morals and fast cars,
I’ve come too far to remember
My dotted lines without headlights.
I am not a man.
I’m a ’69 Camero with hot love in the back seat.

Blood Napkin (day 1476)

Your passion looks like blood.
I’m innocent, I swear,
In a bar napkin after closing
Kind of way.

Torture my heart, young lover,
With innocent eyes and wishful legs
Standing too close
In a cocktail philosophy.

I haven’t decided yet
What color this heart beats as,
But I’d guess it’s
A shade of lust.

2015.03.19 - AmyLynn Emm - deneot foto - bodysuit lingerie boudoir (19 of 532)

Delicate as Love (day 1474)

Overnight, on a highway:
It’s a crystal castle,
Delicate as love
On a midnight escapade
Down a busy London street.
Thump thump
Is my heart,
My radio telling me without words,
Traffic hazard lights
On a steep incline.
I’m not bad,
I’m just dry as a desert rose,
Hot as an exposed armadillo,
Wandering like two lone buffalo,
Not much to say,
Lonely to the very hooves I stomp,
Dust and hunters hunting.

Safety Net (day 1471)

My safety net has developed holes,
It’s begun to sink with rising tides
That are bringing plastics and driftwood
Into the already discombobulated foray
Of pinks, greens, oranges, and dust.
My dental-floss fixes promote algae
In places I don’t want algae.

Is this growth?
Have I become burdened with my own safety
To the point I’m now over my neck
And flailing for life?
Is this harmonious with progress,
Or is this the definition of distraction?
I recognize I’m becoming dizzy.

Counterpose (day 1468)

I’m scared to understand,
Letting ideas ride deep
Into sleepless nights
And I wonder what ifs.
I don’t let wizards
Paint my low brow dark,
I keep satin stains
Along smirk marks of my face.
I crawl into your yellow marks,
Finishing a day old cigarette
That tastes sour
And makes me upset again.
Counterpose my excellence
Awkwardly adjacent
To a sprinkling good luck,
Nickel and dime water fountain.
I’m going back underground.

Whiskey Tracks (day 1457)

A ground has beginnings:
Longing and forgivings;
Mandate in a bottle,
Lost without a harbour.

As blue sky’s winning,
Heart jumps spinning;
Lover and a well laid plan,
Governor’s left this land.

Help the lizard.
Death on a one way street,
Trucks getting really beat,
Dust covering wiskey tracks.

Whiskey Tracks - Lola Frost - Ned Tobin

The Wall (day 1456)

I lost that scope,
Whittled it down into spice and chutney
Grumbling with vengeance
To unresponding pebbles
While sculped demi-gods whispered
Into darkness and a masked Persian
Dangled scented indulgence
Over two freshly peeled cocktails.
I watched it float on,
Into the Wall.