Life is Lonely (day 2411)

Life is lonely
There’s no getting around this fact;
There’s no bluer sky,
Or cloudless forever horizon;
There’s no cup of coffee
That can satisfy longer than it takes
To sign your name to a bill.
And when you feel you’re getting caught
In a wirlwind of unlonely,
A ghastly calm shall succeed
Like a dance that ended
When your eyes were closed,
Lost in sweet reverie.
Life is lonely
And the birds are really singing to you,
Or they’re not because they do go silent too;
Sun will inevitably say goodnight
Or hide behind a thick backlit veil,
Looking the other way
As the day passes by,
And you wont reach out
Because you are silently alerted
To your own lonliness
And it feels better, for some reason,
To speak without an audible sound
And inevitably pretending
That your next cup of coffee
Will solve all of these reflecting mirrors.

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.

Devil’s Seed (day 2400)

It becomes something else
When you choose your mind,
Lost perception of the world
Being called the Devil’s dance.
It takes you all the way
To the other side
Of what you once believed,
Learning damned society’s
Distracted mind of another’s greed.
Plant yourself another seed.

Secret Map (day 2390)

I want to know your secret map
More immense than a shooting star
Follow stardust trails
From earlobe to tippy toe.

I want to know what it feels like to dance
Your skin so rouge my undone touch
Landing with a handful of
Deepened grasping of a secret scent.

I want to know where to fit you in
An eager route I’m turning up
Galaxy of your rising sun
Lost and eyes wide open.

Midnight (day 2271)

You are a midnight that I watch
A tall letter written with love
Emotion twirling around the dance floor
In silk and leather attire
Sipping scotch in a dark corner
Watching every single eye contact
As patrons of the night
Denizens in full regalia
Touch shoulders and recognize
Hold each other in sweet embraces.
And your visage recollects
Games we’ve touched on,
Half unsuspecting
In a gypsy sort of way
Where decadence cannot ever decay
Because it rides tonight,
Midnight in your purse
Towards jewels hidden deep inside
The glimmer in your eye.

Misty Boughs (day 2258)

You, a burning flame did grow
Dancing with the morning fog
Shake the dew that left birds in
A maze of ribbons and boughs.
A colour ran straight down from
Each gap of the misty morn
Tingled each dancing toe
O’er the wild grassy knoll.
Whence the house came peeking through
Ominous black set back in fog
Home at last to elm pews
Shaggy black goat on the road.

Coyote Song (day 2242)

Like a warrior’s window
I have taken my bold chance
Sent my spear forward, spinning
To make my impression
In your days ahead,
Gypsy on a river boat.

Set idle by your fire
In an old wooden rocking chair
Watching tomorrow set away,
My spear slows down to rest;
River dances away.

In earnest I ask
Which old coyote song
Begets a lone call from you tonight?
For fear makes me
A sentimental man
As lines running through
An old hickory handled spear,
Rocks in a river bed.

Awoke (day 2232)

I awoke into a dream so real
As dancing all around
Were voices of ten thousand wisemen
Telling me to humble down.
Yet inside I heard another loud
That beat ten thousand times more
Leading me into sweet heart’s embrace,
A path none can truly ignore.
There I stood in reverie
What’s inside came and spoke to me
And just as my dream came to me
I woke to your sweet grace.