Morning breath of Saturday glory
Blinding in its sight
Focused on a path of tomorrow
For today is inescaped.
And far above on Midnight’s hill
Rode a tall and lanky Knight
Who dreamt of far off Damsels
Who wore bright flowers of ancient pattern.
Down they swooped and lush they bled
For their heart was bound thy sleeve,
And bottled in a pit of agony
Lay the tremors that fought against
Each and every missing link
Of ancient pattern’s bloom.
But there it grew, there it lifted
Above horizon and into morn’,
There the sight of our dear Knight
Rode amidst Valley full.
Tag: bled
Bovine Squeals (day 2815)
As molten streets
Circumnavigated
Each island:
Utopia,
Madness circled
Each callused leader
Shaking fists
With Sir Devil.
Groans and
Bovine squeals
Inspired construction workers
To a fury,
That led each
Minister
To a foghorn;
Cattle afraid
On auction day.
Without much notice
Neither alarm
Necks were bled and drained
Swept away
Into a drain
Flushed away with rain.
And then began
– Recycled plan
Nothing new,
No change, all the same
Nothing to excite
Not a note to cause alarm –
Monotony
So deafening
Each victim
Just ceased
In plain.
Sunlight (day 2546)
I left you in the pleasant afternoon sunlight
You had opened up your heart to me at night
I had cried to you for many nights before
Until I dried up each of my lost thoughts
I had finally found you hidden in a room next door
But then it came to the time for me to leave
One day I had talked about before
You didn’t ask me to stay around some more
Though I knew, I could see it in your eyes
A look you gave me opening up the wildest sky
A midnight I had seen in the deepest of our hearts
When you had let me know I opened up the door
You wanted me to stay, you stood there for me naked
So I walked away, I turned the other way
A bridge I came to that said do not return
Upon the other side I looked behind, where I’d come from
I saw you standing there, tears in each your eyes
And then my heart bled out, it was our last goodbye
In the pleasant afternoon, midday sunlight.
Bled My Raindrops (day 2120)
Listen to raindrops fall
I thought I heard to let it go
Sadness in an old song
And my heart is letting go
To me, I’m still beating there
Go back, take the slower track
In a mind of losing me
I called out to a golden eagle
Take me to the sun
Today I ran today I run
Today I found a trail
Through a suffering forest
They call Ancient Wisdom
I led my heart
Through the roots
To place it at a base
Of Old Man Beard and his setting sun
That bled my raindrops dry.
Vacant and Absent (day 1047)
Where you bled upon my bed,
I cut out and left to air.
Which I did not care!
No, I did not care.
Into the furthest mirror I did look
To find no other but reflection,
Which mattered to me because
I built the house upon flattery.
I’m perfection left uncovered,
Laid down without much affection.
Broken by a snake
And the absense of power.
Thee Traitors Guilt (day 770)
If I should sing to let it out,
Let mine heart come before my throat.
Should I to throw it all away,
My guard so closely held to me,
So tight thy clutches keep it by,
That even I can scarcely cry.
It fills the rivers, flowing high,
With demands; spent at last.
Where should I take to plan again?
If never again to hold thy hand.
But my sorrow does not weigh thy down,
It chases thy mind, late at night.
Curling it’s distant cries tightly
Around mine enemies to bring them near.
For you have neigh been gently to
The brow of which is mine to frow.
Like dandelions reach’d a state decay’d,
A tiny orb of gone with the wind,
Gently swaying to and fro
In the cool mornings dewy glow.
For now thy knoweth why
I sigh into the songs I sing,
Why I shall carry upon my back
This choice of burden, this gunny sack.
It holds the damage done afore,
It bleeds the blood that once before
Bled about my conscious’s sleeve.
But swept away like wind that’s come,
It’s found it’s way: burden upon my back.
For when I speak to hear mine words,
What beckons my mane to question thus,
Are simple words, beseeching thy:
If not for I, whatever for, dear?
For if not for I then what is left?
Surely there must be something abreast.
If not for me, what good is thee?
Have I becometh thee traitor’s guilt?
Have I been loved by an unformidable cloak?
Damaged doth my thoughts become,
Left to stew about in gloom.
So out! Be gone with it then!
Let love be gone, at once have truth,
Make speed to return here once more again.
For I shall find in my path tomorrow,
A heart that fills my heart still more.
So let it end, this ghastly sorrow.
Be off with it then, gone in the wind.
Salvation (day 606)
Swept away in a million dollar bills
Gone, gone in the setting sun
Lost over the horizons laid to sleep
Forgotten in the solitude
Bled dry, of all it’s remaining life
Until then, then will there be salvation
Soiled Sheets (day 511)
I stole your dreams last night
Midnight robbery without a tip
I rode the pony down to its knees
Dreaded the walk through the rain
I pounded the earth with bloody hands
Leaving behind my conscience
Sucked dry of all sense
Did you plow the field before you reaped the land?
Road-trips pull me away from time
Lands I’ve never bled dry
Spoiled meats and canyon jerky
Deep kisses and soiled sheets
Bleeding Bride (day 408)
I watch as your harmony is met with at last
With turmoil not sought, but came none-the-less
You cried for a savior but none did arrive
You laid down and wept then, like a lame bride
But you took care to watch the time
To avoid a recent folly
Out from nowhere did arrive
The winds of a far off land
It was then that crying started
On the spot, in your rags
And all those around you said
Shaking with their heads
There goes a poor maiden’s dream
Unaware as she bled
Maybe (day 254)
I may have been sleeping when I wrote this
But I was told to hang my head and cry
I may have been aware of the anger ahead
But I was watching my back for a lifeline
I may have been worried about the future
When I asked you to cover my steps
I may have been dreaming of another place
When I asked you to marry me
But dear angel that floats on so high
Come down here a while and bless this guy
Perhaps the snakes and candles will entertain you neigh
Perhaps the passion now present will never die
I may have cried all day long
For a woman who had been gone so
I may have worn out the sweater of lust
To a song that had never played on
I may have bled, maybe
