For Tomorrow (Broken Arrow) (day 3203)

I chose the path of a broken arrow
Bent and fragmented
In the soil I grow
For once I was mad
With hate so hot
Spent life speeding
From spot to target
With venemous fuel.
I was long and straight,
I fought a great battle
Now I’m bent
And given away
My grace and beauty
For a place exposed
To wiles and whims
Of nature’s fancy
Where the guise of time
Will swallow me whole
As a man in slippers
On a dirt path
For tomorrow.

Overseeing (day 2908)

What laid me here atop this mountain so
: A collection of thoughts
Reared of only my dreams.

What beauty drove me to season’s edge
: Climbed ever higher
To divine what I knew cried.

What left me open
: Observing, witnessing, counting
Driving my layers of skepticism.

Why did I not hold my here heart
Though I knew it was you
Who held such precious space
For there it was
Forgotten with the dust settled in the corner
Yet overseeing neither bond nor collection.

Postcard / Gift (day 2416)

I picked up a postcard today
With such delicate, serene beauty
I didn’t want to write on the back;
I didn’t want to scar the surface
Of the unmarked landscape.
I held the postcard in my hand
Flipping it from front to back
Not quite sure how to decide
Which side was for me,
And which side was a gift.

Ashram Day 6 (day 1409)

Like lightning, truth descended,
Flapping lightly as she landed
Upon an altar I had cleaned for her.

Her honesty changed me,
Her beauty held me,
Her eyes led me
Into a heart that I was.

Wings are my lightness,
Peace is my soaring,
Freedom is my voice
That extends like horizon.

Push Me (day 1151)

Push me.
Push twilight hours into dark corners
That swim amongst nevermore, nevermore.
Push my symbols into vertical black lines
Twisting about blurred vision scapes.
Push elephant hoof raindrops
Deep within my exposed and crackling skin.
Push out spring bloom’s beauty
Like a healthy garden explodes.
And if the camping hustlers deny
Engulfing catalytic tremors,
Then I shall be forced with all my might
To push my crows to vigor.

Exactly 29 Times (day 988)

Mystically speaking, the proverbs are relating accurately;
Horizontally strengthened with the thinnest of threads
Circled around my baby finger exactly 29 times
In a very tightly strewn pattern, accidentally.

Insomniac. Running at top speeds with wild horses;
That old farmhouse sitting amongst poppies and buttercups
Where I’ve lived once before; a feeling from depths unexplainable
Leveraging it’s way amongst modernities.

So it was a callused palm that broke this frozen spell;
Alone upon a park bench of inner city, inner beauty,
Brook bubbling by with homeless and suits (much quicker)
An eye awoke to stretch it’s glorious wings wide.

To which I had never encountered before;
To who I had never held hands with before;
To where I had never stepped in and amongst before;
To here, to this home of a quietly broken fear.

Berlin - 25062012 (42 of 51)

Looked Like a Lover (day 779)

She looked like a lover I used to have
Who wouldn’t let me hold her tight
Though she’d lay naked on my bed

She looked like a lover I used to know
Who would sing a song to my keen heart
Then tell me not to listen to a word

She looked like a lover I used to love
Eyes so wide, figure so heavenly
But she told me not to smile again

She looked like a lover I used to believe
Words weaving dreams and harmony
Till she blew out her last plume of smoke

She looked like a lover I used to praise
Elegant and beauty deep and divine
Then she spoiled my words with one final goodbye