I start finding lost connections
About gurgling waves
Lapping around poles and
Sheet metal, breaking
The X – Y plane
With flashes of memories
That thunder through my hull.
I recognize a lost connection
As rusting red leaves mixed with
Rubber ducky yellows
Spin their way along the Y-axis,
Dancing nimbly with warm arms
Of X and Z stitches.
Lost connections break my conscience
With each dead 3 pronged plugin,
With each false hope of recharge.
But each diagonal floats on by,
Twisting like an unbroken chain of genes
Through my alert moments
Realizing it’s not the destination,
It’s the journey in the end.
Category: nature
Landed (day 1243)
Landing in an unaware time
I’ve settled in oh… just fine.
Crawling over loose remains,
Curtains and leggings all have stains.
But breath and love; inhale, exhale,
Lifeline matters align each gale,
Upward lifting passages prevail
Eyes wide upon this afternoon sail.
Isn’t She Deceiving (day 1242)
As soon as laughter
Writes me down as a lover
– I will be forever there,
Till the end and then I will.
Glass isn’t fleeting
And heaven’s less deceiving,
For isn’t she all for the sea?
Abyss (day 1234)
A wayward message
Made its way to me,
I shook my conscience
But followed me there.
Soon I awoke,
My name was called
To be lost in abyss
Of a new moon.
Honest Greenthumb-Man (day 1230)
I grow my tulips in large wooden buckets
Pansies are higher, in small clay potters
Resting precariously upon railings and windowsills
Then here we have hanging from awnings and perches
Creative little baskets filled up within:
Snap dragons, petunias, geraniums, lobelia
All overflowing with blossoms of life
Watering is fun for you know when it’s done
By the stream of water flowing out the base
Now off to the side of this here green kept lawn
Is a boxed off topsoil-rich haven of growth
Strictly for vegetables and strong smelling herbs
Which will feed me this summer
Well, most of the summer, after they’ve ripened
After they’ve grown high and wide
Some of them root plants, digging into earth
I’ve built up on rows to give them wide birth
Others are leafy greens with big flapping wings
Reaching out high for the hot summer sun
One row I planted with mixed lettuce fantasia
Its colours range wide, from green, purple, yellow
Well, that is my garden, my flowers and vegetables
It isn’t that big, and it’s grown a little wild
But it makes an honest greenthumb-man out of me.
Rays (day 1221)
Billowing out from beyond my belief,
Strangling the storm windows
Which turns me blank with divert.
I cross out
Little errors that shape my tomorrow
Without missing a beat.
Yet here I am,
Following little sounds
Towards curious places
And letting my soul speak and be heard.
How curious these rays become.
Moon (day 1220)
Speak to me moon,
Eyes so wide.
Take me to dreams
And lullaby’s.
I coo at your vision
(Watch sun drop deep)
Your eyes, a mirage
And I am the stars.
Mid-Summer (day 1219)
In mid autumn I enjoy how the sun comes out
And in it’s wildest most passionate moments
It doesn’t have the all consuming power
Mid-summer sun has.
A t-shirt with an easy breeze you’re not yearning for,
But accepting – more acknowledging, with a sort of humility,
Knowing that in a few short months
The green-green vibrancy will explode
With red-orange-brown
That brings out mom’s hand-made mittens
And warm cups of tea.
Wind (day 1217)
I alter the states of my mind
To allow the gusts of thought pass
As if they had just become mingled
In a thousand cobwebs
That had secrets and truths
And memories long ago
Been buried in my parents back yard
Along side Angus, the family dog,
And Winne, our brown and white guinea pig.
This is where the present comes from,
Shifting from side to side
Hardened pieces of driftwood
And last years decaying perennials.
Wind may bend and curve my states of emotional madness,
My shifting moods and sands and magical feathers
That answer all of my questions,
But time roots all of these gusts
Into solid memories of the old arbutus
Clinging to mind when I close my eyes
And let the wind run through
These states of my mind.
Flat e (day 1215)
There’s an undercurrent of pressure
Rolling around like two dollars
In a drunk-night saloon.
I’m making headway on flesh insight
With no time to spare.
Gin’s hovering around
Whispering sweet nothings in my ear
And two dollars keep talking to me.
Two dollars.
Two lone shooting guns
Winking at me from the corner of the room.
I’m lost in a swimming pool
And walking down main street
Whistling a sad song to a lover
Who’s missing from my arm tonight.
It’s a long walk fishing out these memories
With my flat E ringing through
Cobblestones and lampshades,
Dubious shadows I’m not stopping to
Make friends with.
Two dollars.
I’ve made my peace here tonight.
My undercurrent of pressure
Hanging low with the full moon
That’s grabbing at my coattails
As I make my way toward the exit sign.