Silence in the Morning (day 2610)

Please take the silence out of my morning
Take me towards what I’ve dreamt
For the sand in my eyes reminds me every day
That the cold season is rapidly approaching.
But if the day hasn’t come and darkness still rides
Let me sleep here a little while longer
While the wind isn’t blowing so dangerously
While the pain doesn’t hurt so tremendously
For my senses haven’t yet taken over
In a long line of tin cups and fevers
That keep me hoping the silence stays a moment or two
For me to have a chance to be soothed.

Life of a Leaf (day 2408)

I’ve grown accustomed to leaves turning my memories from fresh to curled, a well understood paradox that changes the tide so romantically it hurts like the small spots beside the bulging veins growing inside.

My smile has grown lines, my heart has extended its beats, my hearing has begun to dance with angels upon the dead leaves blowing along the roughly trampled ground – are these our memories we have yet to experience, or have they been forgotten and left to dissolve into earth?

So I crouch down low and embrace the softly blowing wind that helps me to see my passing time I used to think I loved, I used to want to love, so here I’m hurting from spatial infrequencies that cup my involuntary spasms from underneath the table and remind me to forget to itch the pain.

Does this leaf know it crumbles within my palm so slowly softly? Did it reach for me in a pure moment of thought, expecting my return upon amber wings of a sun soaked day like an emotional Prometheus on a personal mission.

Then, like the ashes of memories crumbling in scaled hands of our Phoenix, so too shall sun rise again over the horizon of a small family farm to bring with it a wet spring full of insight and gratitude that runs the width and depth of a heart shaped leaf settling softly upon a well worn path of insight.

Coffee Outside (day 1702)

I dream of a woman that will some day come,
Who will lead me outside, first thing,
Warm cup and blanket in tow,
And a feeling inside so deep
There’s no leaving now.
There’s no leaving a woman who holds on as I hold,
No fear of a feeling wrong, danger done,
Only growing compassion as I’m sipping,
Tangled up in conversation that has me
Growing weary of everything else;
A haven from the snowstorm and I’ve got a warm fire,
And most else all fades like the blizzard that blows.

Close Wrapped Scarf (day 925)

Side-parts in earthy blues and olive green sweaters
Concealing checkered button-up fireplace specials
Hot chocolate dreams of roasted coffee cups
That sit upon crumbly coasters with one small stirring spoon
Christmas with Louis, his horn bringing in the cold
Like the plethora of close wrapped scarves
And men in skinny jeans
With that familiar smell of roasting
Soaking into my own being
Casually making my two inch wooden table
Lament the Ikea special bendy plastic backs
That just speak of too much trying

Belligerrence (day 27)

Your horrific display
Of blood and glass
Disturbs my soul
Like never before

The gas that came
Cars you turned
Fights you started
Shirts you ripped
Police you cursed
Stores you looted
Fires you ignited
Vegetation you killed
Fans you threatened
Windows you smashed
Team you hazed
Fun you ruined
City you destroyed
Disgrace you activated
Disgust you instilled
Crime you committed

Shame you should now live with
For the rest of your life
One nights actions
Shall tarnish your name

~I have written this in the aftermath of the riots that I witnessed and photographed in Vancouver after the Canucks lost to the Boston Bruins in game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals.