For They Would Rust (day 2664)

If your answers solved
What mystery remains between lives,
Where would our trial be held?
Where would we lay down our tools
Dear for this unquenched need
To work until our knees are sore
And our feet curl up at the seams
Of our understanding, our dreams,
For they would rust
Lost in a gaze of submission
Caught by the hand that pierces all hearts.
I would be lost
For I compete with a memory
Complete and detail oriented.
I ask not for your question,
I speak not for your silence
I read not for your passage
I hold not for your gift
I growl for your soul
That bites off what it believes it can chew
I snarl for your essence
That rips apart belief structure
And I cry at the foot of all you have become
For I know not how to unbecome
What I had never waited to be.

Dripping Windowpane (day 2639)

Windows wrapped me in a blanket
That left the world to drip
Each and every sorrow leaf
To have you again,
That made me ask ten thousand questions
To keep me first at last free.
For inward I shall breathe again
– Resting upon your shoulder –
That wraps me up to warmth
Escaping down each line I draw
Dripping windowpane.

Dusting Ferns (day 2633)

Walking hides my feelings,
Like a good turn on the wrong road.
I’ve shaven all my eyebrows clean
And recited fifteen lines of poetry
From Edgar Allen Poe;
So I don’t lie here alone
As dusk settles
I lie here with Gothic mansions
And morbid expressions
Upon cobblestone roads
And lampposts casting awkward glances.
Faint sounds infiltrate
My active imagination
Leaving goosebumps
Chanting spell bound rhythms
Into my sandy shoes
Lightly dusting the ferns
That play havoc
On the rose of my thought
Exploding into the diary of this pain
I have left behind again.

Small Places (day 2619)

I want to find love in the smallest of places
I have always hoped it would hit me
Square

It doesn’t it wont.

It tickles me when I’m ready and tries me when I’m not
It challenges me as if I forgot to bookmark
And I dont care if I reread pages
It’s a good book that was handed to me
By a friend I have always known well
And haven’t seen in a long time.

This is not sadness
This is scanning the CB radio for anything that’s not static
This is singing to trees and a dog
This is a thought while sitting in meditation
Along a river that’s as perfect as I could ever dream love to be.

And with raindrops comes new growth
And with hello comes a goodbye
That doesn’t have to stay long
Because memory is a uncontrollable gift
We each get a chance to retrace
Though shall never lead to the perfect day
But make vision in our hands
Clear as the sky we look upon.

Curious (day 2616)

I’m exhausted underneath
I didn’t expect the gambler
Here I am, an empty hand
Plans for regrowth
For blossoms, for extreme divinity
Reigning down upon the grounds.
I have let grow such vigor,
Wild abandon, wilderness.
I have put it upon the ground,
Walked back ten paces,
Stood aside, silenced myself
And begun to observe
With the patience of a snake
How curious it all looks from here.