Dancing There Again (day 1232)

So there I lay,
And I was hardly born.
To be one and unconfirmed,
Lost and sadly looking down.
But skinny love yelled my name
From two street blocks down the road,
To my wrecking ball of unforgiven,
To my memories of simple love.
Like a midnight starscape,
I was ending all my pauses
With a thousand wonder whys.
To be dancing there again.

Unmanned Headlights (day 1187)

Tunnel down this deep dark hole
With an un-handled shovel;
Unmanned I’m blinking headlights.

I lost mine up to my knees;
Life and dirt is blowin me.
Change is seasons we cannot see.

Two dollar bills and my coffee’s cold.
Dusty love-note’s fading mind,
It’s a dusty love-note’s dying time.

I’ve got a spotlight memory,
Driven by a crazy dream.
Unmanned headlights flickering.

Busy at the Crossroads (day 1173)

Before too much longer I had remembered what I had left home to find,
And it was at that exact moment my memory served me most correct.
I could only get there one step at a time
To a rhythm that was rolling like a Bob Dylan rhyme.

The scene wasn’t written in the papers, nor was it written down in time.
I was left with dried pens smashed up against my soul,
Where my concert was mid-encore;
Pinnacle of loudly unspoken madness.

Large Oak trees to my South side, Highlands to the North.
I’ve been busting these long clouds with my pointed perfection
Rattling off my unchained fancy-foot tongue.
And here I am all bustling around.

My Illument Back (day 1158)

Should you have rolled me into that pixie white gown?
I laughed with the mariners first touch of ground.
Fire is a gentle nature and this is my bed,
Candles sing songs lingering on into eve.

You are the nature and I am the dreamer,
I am the weaver and you are my story.

My delicate folding showed my illument back,
Stark in this darkness which I escaped into dreams.
Your seaman’s hoarseness upon my plumped, splayed curls,
Changing hands with a thousand dusting fairies.

You are the nature and I am the dreamer,
I am the weaver and you are my story.

And this morning dew and fog brings adieu,
Seaman cold thunderstorm, restless I blow the wind.
Boots go away knocking: your only whispers I can hear.
Untying knots and a lover’s foreign spices.

Lout (day 1139)

Don’t panic
We’ve got the hizy-hizzy heazy
Flushing down these knees
Lay it low
Like a mother-fucking flow
And come
With me
A while

Now the story here
Is about a lout
A grease so green
A log so dense
A steam to cream
The dogs always howl
The moon always cries
The birds and the bees
Are all lost in the trees

You see, the grease is a man
That scares all the dimes
A long overdue
21 gun salute
An ulcer in my throat
A never ending torrent
Dead grass wilting my boat

But I’m an undercover agent
A toonie-two balcony
Who takes the first initiative
To catch the best of them
So I’ve found the skeezy
With my mother-fucking prerogative

I built a nice and cozy
6 foot comforter
An uncles intelligence
And my pure brilliance
To take this fucker
This leach of an innocent
To that: a rat
To nibble on the little
Toes of
The mother-fucking rest of him
The lout, the host
Is in the grave.

Your Twist (day 1138)

It’s your smiling eyes
– Hypnotize –
Like this rhythmic beat
Spilling into,
Onto
The street, I’m you. Busy.
Steady work me over
And I’ll be catching you
Into lose gripped love
In a moonlit love.
It’s your heart beat baby.
I’m your heart beat baby.
Light gripped night
With your twist.

Still Love (day 1116)

And there’s still love
For the happiness remains;
Sunshine and my eyes.
Which I hold love.

And the grapevine
Tangling up my heart
Sends circles and circles
Spinning in to love.

And I call home
To happiness by name.
Where I feel love
Which is everything to remain.

Valley’s Echo (day 1113)

Your heart is not a valley away,
Nor a diamond left unbought.
Though time discovers all our pain,
Lifting our sins to meet the eye,
To shatter history spent in plans.
To know is like a misspent truth;
To touch the wings of a butterfly;
To give up on the fight.
Where I’m left standing,
Yelling: “My heart is on my sleeve.”
Which I’m not here to wear,
I am here to give alone.
Where I hear the valley’s echo.

2013.08 - Mount Robson (61 of 496)