Demons (day 531)

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Demons lurching and prowling at the innards tormenting
Disastrous thoughts compelling every movement
Keeping all personal compassion idle by unnecessary woes
Claws tearing away the fine layers of conscience
Robed with a hundred years of torment, tied at the waist

All without a yelp of terror
All in good time of faith does the burden remain
All for the surviving factions of purveyors

I have dreamed of this day
Written down in my books of faith
That record my weakest of thoughts
Together with my wisdom once preached
And demons; I have drawn your soured skin
Your scales with hair
Claws and beaks searching for the deepest dagger
Tentacles, wings, horns, and whipping tales
Growling teeth and pointed ears

Patiently awaiting this demise
There will be no more pain
The sins I demolish with faith
For tomorrow I shall rise
Without the gates of hell beckoning me
And peace will fall
Amongst the villains and saints

1480-1490 – Saint Anthony Tormented by Demons by Martin Schongauer

Peace (day 530)

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In the entrance of reality we are blessed with conscience
We each see the light that pushes us forth
The difference becomes when we fold up our socks
And pull down our pants to bend over backwards
To let the finishing touches be put on our shine
By the people we choose to let us be led

You choose this, this never ending pull
This never ending walk into our mind that sets us forth
Sets us apart from our brothers and sisters
The ones who also share the same exact stretches of imagination
That rupture our souls and pitch our chests upward
Necks alert and mouth and eyes gaping upwards

Our own unique plans allow us to differentiate this path
Undoubtedly pushing each one of us
It is I, it is you, it is us who choose to balance
The way the stars effect
Glimmering off the rippling evening lake
That blows as it wants in the stretches of time that glitter in our minds

Peace then pushes forth in our conscience
Emanating outwards from the beams of life
That stretch from the parts which have been nurtured
Lust fills us for a life that cannot be silenced
Rosy cheeks and picture perfect smiles
And peace, always in peace with nature and self

Waiting for the Spirit (day 529)

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I grow patient as I roam across the tundra
Waiting for the spirit to knock me over
An instance I know will never occur
Lest I be fruitful in my efforts spoils
Take on the wayward glances
Ye mighty soldier of futures designs

Put down your walking stick
And pull through the open doors
Do not lay down yer tired shoulders
Keep the noble dresser in his tight pants

Sandy (day 525)

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Did we ever understand the destruction that would lay waste
Over the subways and villages and schools that faced down Sandy?
Torn from their roost and splayed to ruins upon the streets
In an impressive dance that left no parties smiling
Earth doesn’t mean to rear its anger in the livings face
Though anger yells loudly at all who remain
Like a lion after the kill, the earth both revels and respects

Sacrifices

Mighty Zeus who gleamed down at the soils uprooted
Prometheus raging in the destruction, tears streaming about his face
And laughing deeply from his deep sea caverns
Where light-hearted nymphs dance naked in the spoils
Poseidon from the storming desires of his hands
Drinks heavily from his jeweled goblet
Whose presence announce the changes in the weather
The release in desires across the earth
There is no wrath left inside

Fall Evening (day 524)

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Windows fall lonely with the setting sun
Gold shadows are cast through the valley
And yellow tipped leaves sitting on trees
Balance the deep evergreen with the
Dying grass, splayed deep into the horizon

And with the deep fall night falling heavily
the mist at the East end of the valley rises
As if gyros were actively spewing steam forth
From its guttural bowels in sighs of relief

One moment a deep gold descends upon the valley
And in the next breath an early evening dusk
Settles itself upon the livestock that graze
The giant fur stretch their arms wide
Before they fall into a long nights slumber

Floral and Gumboots (day 523)

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As I lay awake stretching my arms into the night sky above
Tears rolling through the skies that collect in little goblets
Systematically sparkling in the moonlight
Perched upon the damp leaves that grace the soft grass beneath

I remember a fond time of innocence so many years ago now
When I rolled in virgin wool with one desire upon my mind
Not a single breath thought to be wasted in trivial pursuit
Time killed that messenger of fate as the dawn broke

Ripping those angels wings that shared with me deep thoughts
I cried without relent into the sleeves my dear mother had sewn
Passion and ignorance and dancing with the desires of wine
Pulling at the strings like a cheap shadow theater

Perhaps the dreams are the sum of my existence
The push that keeps me reeling at the sound of footsteps
And floral, forever floral with gumboots
Padding softly along with damp kisses on my neck that leave doors open

Blondes and Guns (day 522)

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A romantic getaway that lends itself to a high action thriller
One of those old ’70s flicks that fills in with browns
Flowy Farah Fawcett hair that shimmers in the sun
And blows in the wind from the partially opened window

A silence that is foreign amongst the wooden paneling
Floral bedspread with a mysterious darkness coming from the underneath area
The type that really makes you genuinely scared to look under the bed
Duty for only the strong to survive

Waves in the distance, too far to be heard
But glimmering in the distance as the canvas lawn-chairs squeak under the weight
Seagulls busily spread their wings across the horizon
Sunscreen smelling strong around the edges of this cold tasty beer

It’s a romantic scene in our high action thriller
The rare moments the cars are ignored and domination plots are set aside
An obligatory scene but oh so necessary to sway the testosterone
Since blondes and guns make the world go round