Unceremoniously (day 2696)

It is not a fair game for you
Hearts bleed unceremoniously
Destruction forever forcing you
Oppression unannounced
While you are wondering why you?
“Why must our people feel this?”
“Why has this been for me?”
“Why can the others not see?”
“Who is here for me?”
Though many know what life is for you
Though your people value you
The world forgets you
Telling you silently
No place is safe for you
For your bloodline spills unceremoniously
Though fires flood each embankment
Left, blowing over you
Calling out your named ancestors
Forever running after you
Filling your chest with empowerment
With a fair game for you with you.

~ written for the oppressed peoples of the world

You’ve Got to Love What You Get (day 2670)

Sometimes it just doesn’t make sense
Sometimes you’ve got to love what you get
When rain falls, everyone gets a bit wet
And if the sun sets
You’ve got to get with what you can.

Like a lion’s roar
You’ve got to grab hold your charge
‘Till you’ve made it your own
Finding diamonds in stones
No one’s left out, no one’s left there behind
Not in a world where everyone shines.

So my mercy is an invitation
For your crop seed, perennially
Take it from me
Cause I was born here to bleed.

Sometimes it’s what you know how to do
Sometimes there’s not a question or clue
There’s an opening
Across the supporting beam
Made from the start
So you can give all your heart.

Stained Messenger (day 1856)

I’m beginning to like the taste of ink on my skin
Bleeding in black
And letters wrinkled symmetrically
With stamps that now stick
To the wings of an unnamed messenger
I have envisioned as Hermes
In a short and stubby auto
With running shoes and arch supports,
And a stripped button up
With wings emblazoned upon the breast-pocket.

Turning Outlaw Again (day 1825)

I’m turning outlaw again,
My stinging words will pierce thy soul
And my fists will bleed my wicked ways,
I’ll drink my beer warmer then
My women have ever been.
I’m turning down the next dusty road
Handing over my soft spoken ways
For rowdy bars and snake tattoos
I’ll start to hiss with the devils drink.
I’m turning outlaw again,
My gang will be 20 strong
On an open road,
Our clubhouse filled with naked women
Who have signed their posters on the walls.
Saw toothed barbed wire
Will be our backup guard dog
And strapped in a leather sheath to my hip
Will be the deadliest blade known to man.
I’ll shoot my shotgun out the back door
At empty beer cans from the night before,
And all my cigarette smoke
Will lead me to toke,
Cause baby, I’m turning outlaw again.

Mended Arrows (day 1667)

I’ve left out all my wiles
For a holiday in heaven,
A turn upon the road
To reach where my heart is still as still can be.

You, you were always forgiveness,
You were the mended arrow
A light beyond my vision
But illuminating my walk.

And how come I’ve been dreaming
Of a memory I’m believing
When I’ve got all of my stories
In a rucksack on my back.

There were twenty one good reasons
To hold onto the heathens
As they quickly walked on past
All in excitement and pure jubilee.

But you, you are plenty appealing
You hold me in good standing
And have brought me all my planning
That’s been brought out in the end.

So darling, reach out your good hand,
A wand of my believing,
To make my heart forever bleeding
As an arrow for your sweet light.

image

Just Fine (day 1587)

Left my memories
On an empty bank today
Singing an old song
And my heart bleeds on

Turned to a broken arrow
Shot through the dark
Loosely wrapped with a
Half written love letter

Leather upon my wrists
Empty and holding it tight
Got a wing on my mind
Baby, I’m doing just fine.

Just Fine by Ned Tobin

Hemoglobin (day 1021)

Don’t purchase my love;
I want you to bleed.
I want you to lay down
And sacrifice everything,
A pure devotion
Of unrelenting desire.
A life long pursuit
Of fear and anger
And joy and jubilee
And blood.
I want you to bleed.
And for me to feed
The ever increasing need
Of hemoglobin
With my raw and carnal instinct,
So omnipresent
That you shall become me.
And I will be your lifeline.

Written Down the Back of my Neck (day 934)

Lines have been written down the back of my neck
Ancient scrolls, unintelligible
In a language spoken when men and women
Lived together in deep respect and love

My throat has begun to burn
The ink has started to bleed
Where once was smooth innocence
Crawling with anticipation of the turning times

Return to a fantasia built upon sorcery
Filled with myth so blood-soaked and deep
Memories flood the virgin landscape
And the Oracle speaks once again