It is with this intention
That I grow into unique
But not a unique so unique
It looses it’s physique
For lost and alone
Was never a soul
To be borne or simply left
Just lost in the lagoon
Trampling skunk cabbage
And swinging aimlessly
About low hanging branches
Of a bountiful weeping willow
To find the end to gather up
A handful of bull-rushes
That I so delicately paste
Upon the small of my back
To become my wings as I carry on
Forward and truth,
Happy New Year to all
The game is upon us now.
Tag: alone
Oddities of Foggy Evening Travels (day 1660)
Aghast! The land was ever black
Shifting around with all despair
Clouds rolling in Gaia’s hair
And I, loosing my way back.
Should think I would leave no slack
To bring my hems, save no fare,
Back to the toil I’d never dare
Leave alone, I had a knack!
Then all at once I felt a tap
That brought me back into my senses
Clinging tightly to the shore
I un-scrolled my handy map
Which led me betwixt two broken fences
And I, my heart, agape no more.
Long Road (day 1501)
I feel I’m suffering alone.
I feel my eyes are closing off.
I think that there’s no way
I’ll live
To tell all of my stories
From this very long, long road.
Because it is a long, long road.
I had a hand in my own truth.
I had desire cutting deep.
I feel there was a moment
When all
I had to do was dream
Enter in this long, long road.
Because it is a long, long road.
I have never let go of emptiness.
I have held out my heart to sing out loud.
I had the chance to make
A life
With everything I dreamt
Along this very long, long road.
Because it is a long, long road.
I needed one too many paths.
I needed to let go of this I knew.
I have always believed
We are
Passionate indeed.
So we’re all a long, long road.
Because it is a long, long road.
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Restless People (day 1317)
There are people upon people
That I have never known,
That have weaved their web to
Shatter my efforts,
Until their essence infects
Even my laziest of days,
Unbuttoning my blouse.
Here I rest, alone.
Wrestling with the little lambs
That elude my grasp,
Leaving me restless at night.
Not Alone (day 1282)
I am not alone in this.
I am not standing here;
Soft music serenading
My lonely heart.
I am not a typist
Rhythmically dancing to
Magical clicks spelling off
Ransom notes of varying
Degrees of importance.
But my fingernails are delicately pruned,
So wands and spells can expertly roll – Full of life and other such necromances –
Off and away and beyond
These simple imaginations of a man,
Not alone, but lonely.
Battling Will (day 1263)
I am not alone,
I am not abandoned
In my misery
To flush out
Battling conceptions
And wish well
In long nights
That remind me of
Good times that
Never last.
I am not a mourner,
Neither have I been left
To fight this battle
With all my wisdom
– Shining bright,
And reminding old visitors
That nostalgia
Bites even the strong at heart
Who leave traces of life
In the wake of their presence.
Squinting (day 1195)
I lifted my eyes and squinted at the distance
Speculating on a mirage, intending to drift.
[Lost words have a tendency to echo
When moments find thee alone, lonely.]
I kick the dust. I follow an eagle trace a long line
About my imagination and wave at it motionless.
This is my breakout. This is my manhood.
I am the angel that washed out to Washington.
[I remember there was an arm that touched.
I looked and a few moments passed before I came to.]
Just like my whirlwind that had brought me to here
I sheltered the locals as I spread my arms and screamed like hell.
To arrows and sparks and roaring engines
Lifting an essence, an indescribable valor.
To sky that lifts my dream and spins my fear,
Pushing endless possibility into the cuff of my presence.
Into a distance that dances with a wavering expression,
Upon a transformation defined by these.
Lines of my Heart (day 1157)
A heart is a weathered blanket
Alone on the porch
Blowing in the wind.
And I can’t see the end.
When we open our hearts
They’re alone for the ride
Like yesterday’s news.
And I can’t see the end.
A cure is buried
Like lines of my heart
Broken and bent.
And I can’t see the end.
Up Against the Wall (day 1093)
I’m alone here,
Not waiting for anyone.
This is the show space;
This is my call.
So when I lean up against the wall
Take a double notice man,
This isn’t curtain call
This is a casual evening stroll…
Saddled and suited
Eyein up the ninety suitors,
Oh everybody comes a calling
When I’m up against the wall.
From this Ledge (day 1000)
From this ledge I looked out beyond,
I surveyed the stillness.
Waiting,
Expecting,
Un-avoiding brief glimpses
Of society’s marks;
Transport trucks rumbling
In and out of earshot.
From this ledge I held onto a hand,
I held on so tight to remind me
That in spite surmountable distances,
In spite out-of-control conveniences
I wasn’t alone here;
Alone in my thoughts.
This wasn’t my diary,
This was my acceptance refusal.
From this ledge I plotted.
I took every hemlock and spruce
Inside my heart and nurtured their spirit
To grow with me as I carved my initials
Into their supple skin, raw so real;
Nature entwined my soul and became me
And I became it.
And I lept from this ledge with eyes wide open.
