Spinning Circles (day 276)

I could light up a room full of lost causes
I could make my neck worn out
From the ever spinning circles
I could love the little light on
At the far end of the tunnel
But with all this pent up energy
I could never tear your heart apart
I could never walk alone along
The ever spinning circles here
The ever increasing boardwalk where
My pennies never fall too far
But idly standing by so close
Are the ravens and the hawks so dear
I’ve given them all my food
Now they’ve come for hair
“Dinner time was hours ago”
I yell from my twisted knoll
They don’t care
Or perhaps they do
It’s just the language barrier that overrules
I lay my gaze upon the maze
Spinning in circles out before me
I watch the masses
Gather their plastics
Make do with what money can buy
Perhaps share themselves some dollar bills
Perhaps watch as Cinderella waltzes
Her shoeless countenance slowly down the long stairs
I could watch her for hours
As she moved in her spinning circles
Up and down, and all around
I could walk up and hold out my hand
Perhaps it would change the fate of mankind
Perhaps it would turn our world upside down
The charming prince would never have known
The sisters would have been left alone
I could have spun my dear Cinderella
In spinning circles around the open streets
Watch as the pumpkins and field mice
Pulled heavily on the reins
Or perhaps in my new world
There would always be sunsets
No more sun going about its spinning circles
Just moments of fun
Judged merely by the growing grass
The growth of the beard
The interest in some rest
Or perhaps I could slowly slumber
Down a lamp lit street
Snow growing rapidly in the corners
No traffic, it’s that hour of the night
Pausing, maybe, to watch the snow
Spinning circles around the glowing light
Fluttering nicely down onto my nose
Perhaps there is a girl there
Hand stuffed in my pocket
Taking me in spinning circles
Around the blocks, looking for the best cafe
The one we’ve been always looking for
Dressed in our shades of black
Mod hair to the side part
We used to drive
But there were too many spinning circles

Shadows (day 275)

Cool nights like these are the ones that seek my own sanity
Deep within the pipe whistle that blares out these two toned ears
Like the sharp edges that cut this time so

Perhaps the shadows will be a bit more forgiving
With their loss of dimensions
All willy nilly changing to the motion of light
Sometimes here, sometimes there
Sometimes falling in a steady glow about your gaze
Transfixed into the lost souls that speak forgotten tongues
Yet work the windows like Jack Frost in the waking hour

Don’t mind that scratching sound now
Don’t mind those omnipresent shadows
Don’t mind the strange noises crawling down your spine
Don’t forget to say your prayers tonight

Hands (day 274)

I’ve never felt your hand like this
Grasping at the loosely tied bows
Perhaps I missed the train
Perhaps I watched it spray off
Into the frost bitten nights air
Perhaps I hugged it goodnight
Sending it away with warm thoughts
And a wet conscience
I’ve always known your hands like this
Delicately tromping around in the heavy breaths
I’ve never watched the night sky go down
Like the way you imagine it with me
Like the way you want to hold it to me
Perhaps tonight, as you gaze
Upon the crystal clear star-lit sky
You’ll get those shivers all over
I’ve always known when your hands do this

While I Shall (day 273)

While I’m afraid of what tomorrow brings
I shall pull up my socks and trod forth
While I can only see habitual retreating
I shall encourage you till the end
While my breath comes slower in my dying age
I will squeeze the last of it into you
While my whispers hit only your ears
I will make sure they embrace your thoughts

..and then
In the power of the history
We shall be forever more

Repair (day 272)

Once in a while
When the sun stays out just a little bit later
The moments make sense
The days crawl along my palm
In the rows I’ve always known

And then, just like prior
The sun dips below the surface
All hell breaks loose
The darkness brings in misery
Strange, strange misery

Perhaps its the coolness
That invites what we’ve never known
Into our lives like a cool cloth
Perhaps it’s the cool we should fear
While out in the midnights air

Just as the last
And the future to come
The sun shines again
Holds on real strong
Hugs me, in a moment of repair

Fuzzy Slippers (day 271)

If it wasn’t for this cursed intense desire
To see what is behind the door
To take that red pill with a glass of water
I maybe would have had a nice sleep last night
Listening to something nice and easy
Perhaps a small fire cackles in the background
Or the warm smell of tea freshly boiled wafts in
Warm, fuzzy pajamas, with nice slippers to boot

Sometimes (day 268)

Sometimes it hurts
Sometimes the blood trickles down the sides of your cheeks
And the cold cold hard ground is the only place to lay down

Sometimes faces stare back
Deep and ugly in contorted disgust with what their own eyes meet
Searching for an exit plan, a way out, or a weakness to abuse

Sometimes the is sunshine
Escaping through the clouds in little rays of dancing
Upon walls, upon half faces, upon new growth of flowers

Sometimes it just works
Sometimes when you put all the ducks in a row, and tie your shoes tight
Take those first steps, the others just seem to roll with the flow

Sometimes is what I look forward to
Each and every day that hands us chances to dive into the unknown
The shades of light that flicker back at our conscience and glow

Business, As Usual (day 267)

I wander the streets in a seeming cloud of confusion
Faces laughing, talking, swearing in my ear
Sometimes at me, most of the time amongst themselves
And I think: “How obscure this society is,
How little their lives seem to impact mine
Yet without their nonchalance about my business
I would have no business at all”
So it is this way, that I wander through town
Looking upward at the rooftops above
Smiling at strangers, that are confused with my gaze
I notice their inadvertent discomfort at seeing my own eyes
Staring right back at them, with a smile written across their lids
But mostly I notice their interest, behind the scenes

People usually have their own agendas
Scuttling here and there to get done what is to be done
Ignorance yells at me, through some of their gazes
Yet, in some, I see interest and kindness

Today an old lady stopped me in the street
“Isn’t it beautiful” she asked of me
“Look up” I directed
As we both gazed up at the high rise
Which just then, in that moment that we stood there
Had turned a magical gold
We both realized and were inspired by the act of sharing
What a few words of kindness can do towards a better tomorrow