In This Stance (day 2320)

Why are you settling into rhythm dance?
Columns of smoke off in the distance.
This isn’t the county fair,
Tickets are not up for sale.
Can I wield you more?
Master of a well tuned sword.
Can I stand up tall
Can I hold this stance?

I carry this rhythm down each dusty road
With my candle, ever bright
I am the carrier, strongest arm
Leader with my hand over heart
Standing tall and holding stance
Boldly believing, and that is tall.

Winter Hearth (day 2309)

I’m growing tired of seeing your reflection
The gates are locked
And my side
Looks like it’s full of open pastures
And wild forest jungles.

There was a time that I knew nothing,
Blinded by skulls and candy
That barked at growing starlight
Strangling each reason
With desperate acts of non-violence
Non-conformance,
Non-sense that rooted blasphemy
In a solid stone foundation,
Un-able, un-desired, un-restricted
By a garden of eden dream space
Too conditioned and nostalgic
To grow wings of a new spring
And follow what has been set in your path.

My clock’s big bold numbers have flipped
Into a new season
A colder season of inner reflection
Observation, closeness with tranquil harbours
That cannot be exhausted in one evening,
One spell cast fool-heartedly,
One lonesome wolf that shall not howl tonight
Though this moon she grows
Swollen and sombre,
And embers within this hearth
Yet to forget this fire that burns within them.

Current’s Edge (day 990)

I walk my freedom with long bold steps
– Passionate about underlying rocks,
Saturated in air; fluid, full, exhilarating –
To my captures edge: sin and sorrow.
“DEFINE MY PATH!” From the tops of my lungs,
Knocking at doors of suffering madness
That tied these knots upon my bare feet.
It’s a long walk along hurt’s path,
A long breath to hold, withdraw,
With destiny, located amidst rubble.

It’s a long walk to freedom,
Blistering sores and stained reason.
Along my gall’s edge I protest,
Along gall’s edge I step,
And in this path I do not quiver,
I do not shake with torrent sadness,
For to my edge [my sin and sorrow],
I stare with will, my choice and I,
Into the void, my current’s capture,
And let flow from the tops of my lungs.

Pulsating Crimson (day 683)

Destruction pulls at my madness
With steam whistles and ten year old phone books
Pages loved so much they’re retreating
While the tune of rapidly moving music
Pulsates a crimson so pure my eyes turn bold
I pour myself a glass of that ruby no label
Found deep within the dusty shelves
Of fathers favorite medicine cabinet
Sit down on the ol’ family rocking lounger
And fixate on the blinking screen
Laughing defeat into my already raging desire

Last Chance Waltz (day 470)

Tonight I sit here
Waiting just a little too long
For the hour to strike gold
Heavens with angels
Gone home long ago
Now just the witching hour
Or the hopeful stay out

Blooming with pride
The young soldier
Head held high
Steps with direction
With admiration
And valor
And increased desire
To feel that
Which never was felt

Alone he waits
At the edge of the dock
Hoping for boldness
Knowing better
Rhinestones glitter
Through memories of yore
Thick with incense
Of tonight’s smokey dreams

Nai says the philosopher
Set in his stone
Knowing then too much
Knowing the bride and her luck
Would push forth
Whispers of happiness
Reverberated through streets
Where a lost lover sat
Drinking in the moon
Loving the last breath
Desperately grasping
At lost stones
Leather and black
That filled up glitter
Hidden deep beneath
The casket of the world
Seperated in wishes

Did we win out that game?
Did we spill forth
Into smoke filled streets
Like the dusk that ran over
The light of day
Did we win out at last
When fires began to blaze?
Who then shouted out
Hate filled words at our backs
Did we hear them
Or wish them off
As the beseacher in vain

This story did not unfold
For before love was tested
The dagger was forced in
Destiny was laid trap
Taking hold of the soldier
And filled the soul of
The sunken angel from heaven
Long been retreating
To fight off this disaster
Knowing all names
For the last dip into fame
Letting rest fate
In the wicker basket charmer
Philosopher of many throngs
Singer of many songs

And I
Bold and valiant
The soldier
Tried to keep up
As the lacey disguise
Threaded it’s way
Into the trampled sky
Such was the lover
Mystery in charm