Perfection (day 1444)

Perfection is in innocence
Perfection passes time
Perfection is in patience
And I’m a doctor
Waiting at the door.

Perfection is made of wood
Perfection walks the line
Perfection watches longly
As two unobtrusive strangers
Go on casually passing by.

Perfection was a memory
Perfection shared some sadness
Perfection lasted happily
Inside a lover’s underwear
Of a shady navy blue.

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Lonely People (day 1435)

It makes me sad to think of lonely people,
Especially in a big city.
A city so big that for every lonely thought out there,
There’s an equally lonely thought going right back out.
That for every lonely person out there,
There is another lonely person
Thinking the same lonely things,
Wishing that other lonely people
Could be lonely with them, lonely together.
It’s sad thinking about
The rate of lonely people leaving the big city,
How if their lonely souls would have connected
With other lonely souls
– To make a collective happy soul –
How close that did actually come to be!
Imagine, two lonely souls passing each other on the street!
Perhaps just one more lonely thought
Would have been enough lonely thoughts
To summon all the lonely people.
How many lonely people must leave the city,
For other lonely people to take notice?
Is there a lonely person packing their tiny car up
With all their precious lonely memories stuffed inside
Leaving this lonely city right now?

Zero and One (day 1434)

I am a number that’s been picked and then released,
Signed and dotted twice and
Sealed strong with our family crest.

This is destiny in the hands of an entrepreneur,
Folding up the corners and
Wrapping tight the family chest.

Watching lights twinkle in a glimmer of urbanized hope,
Shaking off flood water and
Minding the high level mark.

Without a standard ruling system we are all zeros and ones;
Counting guides and shutting eyes
And a program we just press run.

Skivvies (day 1357)

I do the laundry because I’m a man,
Not because I’m told to do it
And not because my balls are held for ransom.
No, manliness is the epitome of style.
Style cannot exist without cleanliness.
The two are mutually inclusive events!

I fold sheets with perfect edges
And keep socks paired by elasticity.
My skivvies though, those shape accentuating
Pieces of gentle cloth – that hold tight
My prized pieces of manly nature –
Get tumbled and crumpled into my exciting drawer.

Water-Wings (day 1352)

Flatness of my heart
Oscillates up and down,
Up and down.

Up and down.

And up it goes with happy hopes,
Then down it comes,
Weighted against odds.

I use my Phillips screwdriver
To manage the extent to which
My heart goes up,
And my heart goes down.

Like full stops
When I’m out beyond the breakers,
My heart has water-wings
And a soothing buoyancy.