Selene (day 3154)

Watch this energy
From our moon
Rise and fall again
She comes and goes
Wiles and whims,
Which cycle is she in?
Look towards evening sky
Might you not see her tonight?
For she cycles
Twelve hours and twenty five minutes
To pull our bones
In gravity
Selene of our mind.

Afternoon Buzz (day 1594)

I hear the sounds of last night’s rain
Dripping off the guitar man upstairs
Like he’s drinking an unmarked bottle of wine
With candles stuffed inside
Green colored empties everywhere.
His pancake heart is shifting
As his torn-bottom baggy jeans scuff
His unease like a broken pencil
And no sharpener.
But two fifteen will buy a slow drip
In a soft-white ceramic self-logo
– Without refill – from a beanie-topped
Organic cycler that always smiles
And talks in soft tones to her cute co-worker
Humoring her choice in music.

Flight (day 1548)

I cycled home as fast I could
To feel wind blow me good,
It circled around my ears and
Lifted me up just so.

As I rounded my last corner
Each pedal that I threw
Made me feel like a nimble bird
Dancing amongst a cloud

The saddest part was when I came
To a familiar door
Which my bronzing key fit just right;
My flight had come to end.

Flight by Ned Tobin

Fall (day 812)

I lost that feeling deep within the cavernous region of my lonely heart
When the holy sun set upon the western banks of euphoria
My fingers crawled with memories over burning sand shifting away time
Like Mother Nature’s wiles as summer turns to fall
Leaves challenging gravity to a duo, a fate well known to man
Fruits come to spoil and nights come to close amongst sober flight
Silently and diligently animals march their way with instincts
Into warmer climes and distant hills, far off ponds of migration
Flocks and herds and pods and groups and hibernation
With the great cycle of life: life and death and birth and age
And here I sit: legs crossed with my third eye alert
Searching amongst the birch trees and clovers for only that which comes
Without forced determination, without abrupt distraction
As the harvest moon breaches the young evenings virginity
And the lone coyote sings a song of love into the cool night air

Riga - 201209 (400 of 605)

Lost in the Cycle (day 174)

Abuse me, like a well worn sweater
Worn down from the gravity of time
Warmed over from a cold wind
Fall leaves, slowly spinning
Downward, with the passage of time
Upwards with the momentum of life
Through, within, alive, growth

We live in blissed blasphemy
Secretly kissing the angels
Of the memories we once longed for
To late, time doesn’t wait
Downward, downward, downward they fall
Screaming for glory, one last moment
Alive, grasping, dead, cycle