Faint Echo

Transmission loss is inevitable
With such broad spectrum distortion
Carrying a candle through darkness
Is a miner for gold
Or coal
Or anything that matters
To the lords of the underground.
But when I yell
It echoes back to me
Around the field
From the trees
From the hill
Between the buildings and back,
Which gives me motivation
To try again
Though my understanding is faint
As I watch a blowing bag
Floating in the wind.
Today it is not dusty,
Though a slight breeze comes on,
It is muggy and heavy
An extra 30 pounds to a person
That sweats through a shirt
With the mere though of lifting
An arm in toil.
So where do I sit
In such heavy silence?
At the crossroads
With a miner on my shoulder
Torn down ligaments
Effortlessly gazing
But with sharp eyes watching
Everything being lost.

Ode To My Favourite Pen (day 3067)

I found you down a darkened road
Construction and rainy smells
Inside an old historic building
In to what felt like a historic store.
The walls were lined
With countless pens
And items supporting pens,
All illuminated so eloquently
Showcasing the finest specimens
Any penman could want.
In here I walked back and forth,
And fellow patrons wandered deep in thought,
Where finally in the deepest corner
I found you resting on a stand
Not a fingerprint laid your barrel.

And now so many years have passed
Yet not once have you let me down
Though the world we’ve traveled by foot
No wear shows upon your barrel,
Your nib a perfect flow.
And your mark has been inscribed
On countless pads sent afar
With, what I believe, quite an exquisite touch
Unique to me, my penman mark
You so critically help me lay.
I look and hold you every day,
Proud to know you by feel and weight
To have you by my side,
And to know that when I need you most
You’ll be right where I lay you down
Ready with your perfect balance
Upon paper we do play.

Buying Supplies at the Building Store (day 2527)

We went in for a simple stud
Two by four by a little less than eight
Sixteen was all we needed
Then we found the clearance bin
And found a great deal on a hinge
Then the tape measure
With two sided measures
And a speed square now on sale!
So there we were with an invoice for
A load of lumber from the yard
And both our hands were balancing
Our finds at the building supplies store.

Southern Texas (day 1111)

You don’t get to where you are
By building holes in attics.
There’re Devils grinning here
At these temptations crossroads.
Like my organic lover
Chastised in a bed of thorns,
I am too beaten into blood-let confessions,
Loosened until I am deliberated.
Happy because I have heaven.
Can you whistle to me magic?
Woop-de-woop.
A lovers forever magnetic
And I’ve left for Southern Texas, mom.

Rumbling (day 870)

Just cant sit here right now
Enthusiasm building up inside
A crime that ain’t yet committed
Sin purely built up on guilt
I ain’t been off the good track
Just living a life n’its demands
Hadn’t been here too long now
Didn’t plan on going anytime soon
Lasted a lifetime of Dogness
Becoming a Lion is zen
Mention a man and his liberties
Stuff a man up with sin
Feet are beginning to rumble
And all rumbling getting let loose