Bastard Beatings (day 198)

Rich kid: your heart breaks my jagged brownstone heart
Dangling your flowers above the sewers you squat over
Left aimlessly adrift the swallowing darkness; pity seeks
And I cuddle you with the warmth of a suckling mother
Bastard beatings and sadness ensues

And sadness ensues

And sadness ensues

Rich kid: whistling a tune as you head to destruction
Fancy shoes won’t bob your makeup smudges
You have no blessing I haven’t given, yet
Amongst all your dollar signs and parking tickets
Bastard beatings and sadness fades

The Heavens (day 195)

This journey has been tortured and turned with the omnipresent glare of the eagle
The desires of conquest have been hindered by the scorn of angels
The love has never been spared by cupid, nor by a hungry lover’s eyes
Yet the gears still turn, the ride still rolls

This ascent has been beaten with brutality of breath
Baited with the promise of one pure and descending glance towards the worlds we’ve passed through
A view from the heavens, a wonderfully epic moment of hysteria
As the clouds below part and clarity is felt like the needle sinking in

Mother, won’t you cry with me, die with me
As the young ladies last romance curled its gnarly fingers around the seeping demise
Withered air collapsing into the cruel hands of zero gravity
Mother, won’t you cry with me? Die with me.

Decay (day 194)

Like the soul of the shoe
The voice in the head
The green of the leaf
The love in the night

Decay with the eyes of desire
Decay with the heart of a mother
Decay with the grace of a deity
Decay with the light of a fire

And make
The open sky of love
Fall apart into pieces
Never worn by a stranger
But the brothers of all

Transfixed (day 166)

Transfixed into your eyes like the splintery jagged edge of a fresh cut
Frizzy hair strokes sideways glances, advances, left alone
And a smell, oh sweet music left a stain upon my passion
Passion muted and muffled for so very long
The darkness recedes like the passing of time
Slowly your quirky edges unfold, small nets grow old
Gold filters through the leaky nets onto fresh cuts
Battling the wounds, panic recedes like the passing of time
Layers upon layers of bridled glory filling
Searching hands which seek to prophesize
Will the night sky into the day
Carry your rainbows, remember the sky

***** Looking back I realized I had left some holes in my numbering, I am seeking to fix that now.

My War Song (day 192)

Rebel! My gangly warriors
Adjust your masks and ready
Brace yourselves
Against all time
And prepare yourselves with knowledge
Fear not the chief
Of thine enemy
Who claims to have valor
For we all know
Those colours clad
Lack the strength we carry in ours
Unite! Great men,
Hold your swords up high
Rebel yell!
Reach down to hell
Let the strength and fight begin!

Waste of Time (day 191)

Do you think I’d let your mind roam around
Like the freedom of thought in the darkness?

Awake late at night with the creeks creeping in
A sultry Satan grows tall at this hour

Divine interplay, devise other ways
Don’t walk away from the truth of the matter

Lyrical mythicist, heavenly temptress
My eyes are on you all day through

No matter how long I spend at this daunt
No translucent luminescence is consumed

Which leads me to believe,
In spite all my grief
I’ve needlessly felt and consumed

Flutter (day 182)

She lies motionless as I engrave her grace
Enchanted she is as animate as motionless
Yet somehow, without movement or flutter
She is everywhere inside of me
Raping, grasping, pulling, embracing
She motions me to open up
Allowed the emotions they flow together
Shut off, she lies there, a motionless circle
We always play the wrong things
We always love the wrong things

These Dreams (day 176)

I want to run my hands
Along the coast of your heart
Down the ridge of your back
Along the peaks of your curves

I want to create these memories
Like sun baked carvings in the sand
Washed away with time
It was about the game rest assured

I want to traverse these cliffs
With the gravity of your kiss
Propelled with your hands
Gently urging me forth

I want to lounge in these valleys
Where the grass does grow deep
I want to lounge in these valleys
I want to sing with these trees

And I Shall Head Home (day 170)

Reason comes to the surface like an infected pond
Suffocating the life out of dreams and hope
But that’s ok, it’s just a small pond in the circle of life
Bigger fish will come from different ponds

The memory, however, shall remain constant forever
The fun times afloat our two-seater
Rowing slowly around the familiar banks of destiny
Wearing in the good spots of weathered wear

The boat it can sink, but I surely can swim
The fish it can run, but I surely can reel
The oars they can break, but surely I can then kick
But if, upon the banks where I stand
I should see such a torment dark seas that do bring
I shall pack up my oils, wear my wellingtons proudly
And head home, till the banks they do clear