Paper Route & Pig Tails (day 731)

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I woke as I usually did
Tightened up my roller blades
And went about my route
Delivering papers
That was my chore
I was an older paper boy
Paper man if you will
We had exchanged glances
On and off regularly
She fancied my roller blades
7016 at the top of the hill
She was a young retired skater
Whose quirkiness attracted me
We started to talk
More as the days went by
I got to know her
Comfortable in her ways
She was interested
In a twenty something year old paper man
Not much older herself
It wasn’t my only job
It was a side thing for sure
But it was what it was
Which brought me to her
We flirted, why not?
Enjoying it immensely
But the professional I am
I had a route to deliver!

I remember one time
She asked me to help her with her hair
She had fascinating clamps
To hold her hair in there
They were clips
That were held with bolts
Needing to be tightened
Her hair was parted down the middle
Strictly, thin hair
Cut a few inches above her shoulders
Dyed, always a new catchy colour
Two short and cute pig tails
Which she spun in towards themselves
In an upside down heart
Then up the middle
Were they were clamped into place
Contact is a beautiful thing
A heart racing against my heart
I felt it, she felt it

She invited me over one day
She was aggressive like that
Which explains why she was
So comfortable topless
I was shy, what do you do?
I’m not used to that
Try to fit in, just act casual
Tea was on the menu
I like mine with sugar
We talked and flirted
An old china cup was delivered
Her house smelled like lilacs
She was pure coconut with passion
Dancing about the room
Graceful steps was dancing to me
Telling me of stories she had once lived
I leafed through the books on her shelf
Many I had read, bookworm I am
I was in a corner
Trapped without chains
She wandered over to me
She was topless, of course
Big black panties
The kind that come up past a bellybutton
But, underneath them she had on a thong
As she wandered over to me
She was fumbling in them
Head cranked around, hands all jumbled up
Confusion on her face
With me watching unashamed
She turned around
And pushed her bum into my crotch
It was more like her bum
Into my thighs
She was a shorter, fiery girl
Fumbling with her thong
Acutely pointing her bum
And asked me if I could help her
Straighten out her panty line

There is something about that first moment
When your hand touches the skin of a lover
Especially around their hips… a soft stomach
Something magically innocent in those moments
Enough to erupt a thousand spitting volcanoes
And tingle the tips of toes with an excited sensation
Quivering the knees while reaching out for more

Pushing (day 730)

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I roll around waiting for that shit to hit my head
Spinning relentlessly in this uncomfortable bed
I know not what has passed through this body
Just fumes and discarded waste left now
Memories that don’t lead to filled in blanks
It’s crushing, this deep sadness that spins around
The scribbled out pages of stunted thoughts
I work at pulling out words, but only vowels fall out
Shifting around uneasily like a shy cowboy
Fumbling with vices picked up from long hours
Out on the range with thoughts and dreams
I roll around waiting for that shit to hit my head

Pure Intentions (day 729)

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I’m a walking cause
A symptom without diagnosis
An affliction
An avoidable situation

I’ve got a heartbeat
Pure intentions
A rambling rose
With nobody to hold

I’ve got a tender touch
Late at night by campfire light
Life in burning eyes
With splinter clutches

I’m a justification
A resolution
Breaking the good/bad
Souring the miscomfort

I’ve got footsteps
Leading away from me
Large strides and
Slight pigeon toed prints

I’m a walking cause
A symptom without diagnosis
An affliction
An avoidable situation

Half Way Tired (day 728)

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Today I’m tired
Like the end of the lineup
Bottom of the hill
Half-way done
Watch checking
Eyes half closed
Sun coming up again
One houndred kilometers to go
Beer at noon
Kind of tired

It’s not like it’s that bad
After all
I packed so much good
Into today
I should be tired
Exhausted on the floor
Spread eagle
Unable to move
Force fed nutrients

Sleep will be good tonight
Long may it last

She’s Madness (day 727)

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She’s sweetheart
A thousand shades of love
Mixed with a crimson alert beacon
Signalling the end of a search

She’s madness
In peaceful laughter
Hovering around angelic
And gold spots in the sun

She’s all love
Like rainbows and
Puddles of fun
Splashing this way and that

She’s warmth
Lying on the sandy beaches
In the mid-summer heat
Floating off into sleep

She’s a tight turn
Whipping that tail around
Splashing white caps
In her hips and her toes

She’s magic
Allusions in wands
With a pot full of potions
And the power to possess

Insanity and the Devil (day 726)

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I’m insanity
It’s nice to meet you
Can I leave on my shoes?
They’re not that dirty, really..
I’ve only trudged through hell
And the muddy banks of depression
Along the copse of Zen
And through the fields of peace

I’ve come for a spot of tea
I think it’d be nice
If we got to know each other
It’s going to be a long road, soon
And we’re better off
Being somewhat familiar with each other
To save from growing pains
Later on down the road

No cream, two spoons of sugar
Please

A Calm Exhale (day 725)

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A peaceful song pulls at my thoughts
Sweeping my soul through a meadow
Filled with low hanging weeping willows
And a gurgling brook
With tufts of grass flanking that stream
Fuzzy colours all around
Like a post-impressionist dream
Filtered through the eyes of societies insanity

The only thing trampling the mood
Is the outside world blaring from a tube
Shucking the calm that flows within
Into a frustration so pitted it groans
A casual breath turns towards forced
Focusing on zen, the art of happiness
Resisting the urge to call out and reform

With one simple application of a minor force
Sounds die out, echoing in the walls
Crafting witty remarks amongst the plants
That reflect the incandescent glow
A warm glow of a settling mood
Relaxing within the peaceful song
Sweeping my pressured edges towards their sheaths
And collapsing my insanity into a calm exhale

Where the Wild Buttercups Grow (day 723)

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Have you ever been where the wild buttercup grows?
Up past the fence where the cattle don’t go
There’s an oak tree there sheltering a patch
Of clovers so thick, of ground so cool

I don’t go back there often since I’ve moved away
The house has changed now, green house is blue
But when I do go up to where the buttercups grow
An overgrown path where the big old oak stays

I remember in ’24 Mary-Lou and I walked
Up to the meadow where the buttercups grow
We sat on the sunny side of the old oak tree
Upon the checkered blanket we brought with the wine

But lovers they come and some of them go
And the buttercups always continue to grow
Up in the meadow where the wild oak grows
Past the old fence where the cows don’t go

Drained and Bled (day 722)

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Refined the madness will walk away
At seasons end to sell your hay
Share the sun, enjoy each day
But don’t get lost along the way

Then if the last straw be drawn
Finding you left standing on the lawn
No goods leftover to be pawned
It will be sorrow; all sun be gone

It’s known it’s fearful inside this head
Laughter spinning around the bed
The makeshift scarecrow: no wit, dead
No roof to shelter, no home to stead

But not all’s lost when wits have fled
A lone wild grouse found and bled
Enough to feed and safely tread
At least for a little while, to ease the dread