These days I find myself revolving around an open ended question.
I dont find myself worried or left on a cliffhanger,
No, these notes dont sound good on the breath of discovery,
My walnuts are chesnut brown
And my drawers are filling up with notes
That have inches and arrows scribbled
Upon their worn and wearing shoulders.
You see, the game is but a dice I’ve been carving.
No choice wrong just doing and not doing.
A collaboration of antivibration
Has taken its seat next to the campfire I sit at nightly,
With a small dosage of 5% ABV
But the streetlight illuminates my path home
Though I walk through dirt and pastures
To find my bedroll and cedar.
So I ask the questions that need no solving
But need collaborating,
I ask the answers I know,
But believe the cosmos knows too
For in believing in that orbit
I have put faith in my family,
And my family has led me right into discovery
With an open ended question
Resting on the lips of eager grasshoppers.
Tag: dirt
Salt (day 2560)
Pungent escapes
Raw landings
Death presents
Wildly natural
Unavoidable
Mountains of dirt
Burrowed
Army of ants
Alone With Myself (day 2550)
I crawled with you into this hole
I left my shoes off
And stepped into the dirt
Clawing at the walls to reach my end
Like a dragon in a fairy tale
Taken down by our valiant soldier
And when I saw my deepest sunshine
I reflected on it’s darkness
An effervescence that made my lip twitch
Morphing into giants on the wall
Leaving me in my hole
Alone with myself
Keep to the Road (day 2386)
Desired to be of waiting, thus
I’m getting tired of wandering
Without a cause.
I want reason that itches
Songs that move me
Lethargy to get the fuck out
Eating I go of dirt road trails
Through my smiling menace
With ten thousand reasons
To keep to the road.
Red Racer (day 2300)
I have lost my edges in a red racer
I leaned out too far
Forgot a weekend of fun
Down a long dirt road
I didn’t think had much luck.
This is turning into a solo trick
Dancing with midnight
Of an half empty glass
Melting in the tune of E flat.
But wind blows through trees here,
Heavens sing here,
And visions keep reminding me
I’m not a poor man anymore
I’ve left my home and I’m moving on
Down another dusty road home.
Each Torrent (day 2177)
Wisdom calls in the elements
And smiles to each torrent and fury
Wisdom tramples upon no minion
Takes no weakened arrow
And pulls no tender feather
Wisdom spews no fallacy
Nor isolates convenient truths
Wisdom sweeps no dirt
Under our very own beds
Wisdom holds space
For every voice to share
And walks hand in hand
To the center of the square
A march of justice
With a silent peace flag
Wisdom charges the air
With truth and an open heart.
Silhouetted Cacti (day 2172)
I will be the sun dripping
Down legs of golden heroes
I will be the crumbling dirt
Amidst each footstep, counted
I will be the wings soaring
To each ebb and matching flow
I will be the wandering nomad
Caught in effortless migration
I will be the passion building
Spring cannot be stopped
I will be the hours breathing
While a hand rests, exhausted
I will be the knot tied
Alert silhouetted cacti
I will be the red ball
Dipped into old red wine
I will be the front porch song
For each moment you are my anchor.
Window Drops (day 2171)
Along the ways of window drops
A bird flew out the nest
Cloud came to my very door
And my hair lay flattened down.
Yet every signal
East be at it’s back
Signaled me to rise above
What midnight I had not looked back.
Nor did my animosity
Rumble to a stop
A grinding halting dusty jalopy
My chariot of grim time.
True, each dirt splash lay bare
The deeper grit of sand
Which held my flower to my nose
Thus, bow down low I dearly bade.
Disturb Me (day 2093)
Stir my cesspool of random thoughts
That hold each of my ears wide
Collecting bits of random chaos;
Ricochet through a knotty web
Like the tangled mass hairs on my head
Have spun about my brain;
Shift my gears into 5th
As we barrel down a dirt road at midnight
With the lights cut.
Ode to Autumn (day 1931)
When I was a little lad
I can remember quite vividly
How I’d run around in wool:
Jackets, mittens, and a toque.
Rosy cheeks would rush between
Piles of raked leaves
Exploding as a shaggy dog may
Tongue half way to the ground.
I remember putting my nose
Pressed right to the ground,
Smelling dirt and grass
And observing in minute detail
Leaves turning from green to brown
Crackle them along veins
Once so vibrant, so alive, fresh
Now so similar to the dirt
Squished between my fingers.
Bugs, beetles..
Busy in the dizzying mirth
Of all such decay.
Here, I would stay,
Madly fascinated with stacked flower pots
Textures of clay now everywhere!
From where did they come?
Every Autumn was fun,
Preparation everywhere,
Chopped logs and canning jars,
Hockey sticks and Halloween,
Snow banks and toboggan pulls.
I can remember the dying sun.