Struggling (day 86)

Struggling to stay awake
Struggling to keep focused
Struggling to stop remembering
Struggling to ignore nostalgia
Struggling to hold peace
Struggling to find motivation
Struggling to sit still
Struggling to create time
Struggling to be zen
Struggling to grasp topics
Struggling to be friendly
Struggling to breathe air
Struggling to stay cool
Struggling to avoid fears
Struggling to still believe
Struggling to remain alive
Struggling to show thanks
Struggling to initiate contact
Struggling to not resent
Struggling to think kindly
Struggling to eliminate indulgence
Struggling to always cry
Struggling to move body
Struggling to have fun
Struggling to harbor hope
Struggling to kiss you

The Answer Remains (day 84)

A rare bird
Just flew my way
She screamed my name
And excitement remains

A rare doll
Just winked at me
She seduced me easily
And excitement remains

A bronzed whistle
Just blew it’s lid
It curled my toes
And excitement remains

A sensual cat
Just romanced my night
It calmed my senses
And excitement remains

Excitement remains
There’s no drowning shame
I’m awake with demands
And excitement remains

Prison (day 83)

Time slips by unbeknownst to me
Regardless of the patience I give to thee
Bars fill up the bland landscape
Gray and capturing

Relentless I feel is my tight schedule
Pointless I feel is my constant turmoil
Sunlight visits me in sun dialed accuracy
Bright and blinding

Visitors few, ladies are never
Friends aren’t friends, just forced communication
Green grass escapes from the sand
Sparse and hopeless

I am a jailbird, guilty and charged
I have been guilty of abusing
Societies deepest friends
Dry and inconsolable

day 82 (day 82)

It started off slowly
Distracted to no end
But built up a thunder
With anticipation and mud
The phone rang but twice
The stove was on fire
The water was cold
And the fish were all hungry
The sun boiled down
Mirage on the streets
Yellow turned to red
And buzzards stalked the streets
My mind wasn’t focused
Tiny flies filled my sights
Controls and their dials
Wouldn’t agree with my suit
Complexion was spotless
Comb wasn’t needed
I rolled the logs
Bend the freight
Sold the sheep
Mended the holes
Sought the banker
Fed the anchor
Filled the tanker
Helped the old lady
Wrote down a list
Divided my time
Between comedies and romance
Settled the night
With a warm glass of wine
Blinds that shut
Doors that held out
The flies and the moths
Songs that turned slow
Volume kept moderate
Temperature slightly lowered
Eyes that began to glow
Lights began to fade
Time kept ticking
Drinks ran dry
Visitors dispersed
Alarm was set
Covers ruffled
Comfy spot found
Peace be with
A night all alone

Pilgrim (day 80)

Roaming the badlands for a wondrous find
Of golden parades, or simple disdain
Like a bad weather tragedy
Or a day that’s lasted too long
It’s a drought, holding back the tears
It’s a fight that’s punctured my ears

Cooly raising a rusty can into the air
Filled with spit of ten thousand years
Cornered like a rat scared by a straw broom
Fighting like a skunk, dirty’s the only way
But zen fills the room like an omnipresent colour
Inducing the pilgrims into a fury they’ve only remembered

Remembering a love for the open road
A love for the old willow tree
When wagons had wheels made of wood
The gun spoke the law, the buffalo roamed free
And the peace was the mind
As the tumbleweed spun webs
Roaming the badlands for a wondrous find

All In A Day (day 78)

Beads of sun break through this holy day
Glistening everything it hits, including my weathered desk
Plants scream out for more, reaching out with reckless abandon
And the flies all attempt to break free through the stained glass
Leaving their motionless debris scattered along the ledge
Meanwhile, deep in the distance
The blinding sun races it’s distance
Breaking through and burning any who dare impede it’s travel
And the morning cries
Like a loose canon that’s locked and loaded
Throwing tantrums at the glistening grass
Ready to dry with the midday sun
“Collapse” say the trees, your time will return very soon
Spreading wider to bask in the newly angled rays
Slowly spreading further into the distance
And graying with distance that hasn’t yet decided
Which angle it likes best
For night begins to roll the skies into brilliant spectrums
But throws it’s shadows like passing butterflies
Quietly and silently and at times omnipresent
And for the love of it all
The morning waits its turn in line
While noon pouts a silent whimper
Evening spreads out a blanket with some nice wine
And cooly entertains the fleeting thoughts of the moon

Waiting at the Ready (day 77)

A cool glove wrestles my eyes shut
Demanding I throw my caution to the wind
Relapse into my nightly routine of unconscious drabble
But ho! I keep a steady battle against the dusty cowboys
Distinction holds the gun against my belt
And loose gravel ties my soul along my throat
Ready to burst at the onset of a tremor
Ready to gush at the first sight of a lover

And then, like the silently sweeping motions of the clouds
A calm rustles amongst the trees of my scalp
Allowing me to enjoy, for just a brief moment
The endless summers of Eldorado
But just as clouds soon change shape and disperse
The thought swiftly leaves the action
Leaving my yearning soul back in the game
Pistol in hand, this is going to be a dirty one

Should I? (day 76)

I’m crying here late at night
With nothing to lose
No self esteem issues
And no moral blues

I’ve wandered around towns
With games, evermore
Lost in battle mode
Given in to romance

But where is my penance
If I’ll admit to no wrong
Should I be seduced?
Should I be reduced?

Carry these words forth
To an unmanned army
Asleep in the woods
Listless and gay

For they shall know
In all of their wisdom
What then shall be done
And I shall be saved