Tag Archives: Door

Tea (day 2204)

Make me reel in your sweetest tea
I hear scarlet raindrops
Opening every door so tenderly
Saturate my safely laid plans
With incandescent luminosity
Breaking my lucid dreaming
With delicate fingerprints
Dancing faster then I had imagined
In a gallery of ancient symbols.

Played out Alright (day 2166)

When glasses are heating back spaces
And love’s been ticking empty pages
My dear
It’s been a long night again.

But when the moon’s light lets me
Hold onto what little I’m left with
My dear
Can I see the way your eyes look again?

You can call me when it gets you
Has it been enough to forget you
My dear
To the door that never lets us in.

Dance, like it’s been played out
And I will never fade out
My dear
Forget just how that moonlight
Used to rise and shine without you
And then it’ll be midnight
Alone, again.

Ode to Frogs in the Night (day 2149)

As silence closes it’s doors
And symphony erupts in scores
I listen attentive to
Catch each source, each hymn
Like dominoes it begins
First here, a call
Then there, and there, and there
Into what feels like
The whole lake’s edge alive
Conductor’s up, stage is set
Violins have all been tuned
To which my eyes then slowly find
Moonlight, and silence again.

Tightly Packed (day 2146)

I held a spoonful close to my mouth
Sips of whatever I had coming again
Tightly packed for a business trip
In a car with four doors
Fingertips and a medicine bottle
And a spoon held for too long.

Take me down a river road
Cottonwoods and wheeping willows
Blowing in the wind
Long lamented tailwind signaled
Our swift departure – forward
With an essence upon my lips
Holding on to my silver moon.

Tobacco Pipe Dreams (day 2141)

I carried your tobacco pipe
Like a diamond on my mind,
Two puffs and a closed grip
Ricochet all security
Through the back door:
Creak creak.

And we pass it on
As night songs
From a holy tent with a view
That lisps night skies
Through dreams of a far off land
Whispering endlessly.

But hold me, hold on
Hold the flowers
Growing here so wild
In the palm of your hand
Until it stains your closed grip
The colour of my dream.

Tobacco Pipe Dreams by Ned Tobin

Candles (day 1936)

From my heart
I pull a seed
Lay it at the door.

Remember how
The water once
Ran across the floor.

I carry only
Two candles for
Our path, nevermore.

Framed (day 1898)

Framed, I calculated an unnerving amount of resistance that spread like wildfire into Westward directions, of which of course I had no control over yet still tried to impart my wisdom and hence strength into the combined force of what I could not really understand.

So from A to B related my conceptualized compassion that hadn’t yet fully been realized, described as it may have been impartial as it was, was released into the atmosphere that concluded the segmented destruction I had begun at once, since I was always hanging around at the door.

Did you mean it?

I, for one, hadn’t lied since the conceptualized rhythm had taken hold of my toes and left me writhing aimlessly upon the cold, hard floor encircling my conceptualizing and leaving faint ellipses of my heated innards, heated imprints of smudging recollection slowly evaporating.

Yet you. You. You you you you you! You hadn’t had a word of truth since your mother siphoned ink drops from your stained fingers to extract what viciously romantic letters you had sent to the tightrope walker of your dreams. How could you remember such blithe moments of innocent lust, only scattered in pajama pants of a sleep-over with two bottles of soda pop rattling against nevermore.

So I thought my captain’s hat was an excellent choice to begin my journey with. I thought my heart had a marvelous lagoon illuminated by fireflicking effervescence – like lightening bolts for my neurons jitterbugging their way past each other in such a hurry A to B, A to B, A to B to one two three for I am lost in the conceptualized space of lighting bolts upon the cold tiles of this broken bathroom’s shore.

Framed, I left no remark, no emblem, no Saturday night band-aid to recollect seashells from the forest floor – blown. No deafening roar lifting up my coattails I had left begging at the door. No satin sheets too stained for use and frayed at the edges in bad need of delicate iron’s pour. No guilt nicely crumpled up inside a warm cocoon, marsupial, canonized, capitalized, heavenly guilt-free and framed, alone with torment.

Safety (day 1698)

I looked at the wrinkles on my hands
The moment you walked out our door.
I won’t pretend I have again
Washed the surface of my heart.
I have started ruling around
Uneven cobbles on my surface,
I have begun to admit uneasily
This wasn’t the safety you wished for.

Storm is on the Ni’ (day 1696)

Weathered by the storm one night
I lay awake in bed,
Trusty steed loose outside
To fare for his warmth, amidst.
I’ve got a heart of gold and
I left my shoes tidy by the door.
Stayed up all night watching
Stars shoot through the sky,
And you told me twice that I
Had led you down the right road.
Now you come home and
Lay awake in bed,
Lay beside me when
Storm is on the ni’.

Acid (day 1608)

Acid inflections
Purge soul from desire,
Lingering intentions
Carry my night:
Left lane right lane.

I curve your heart
Around crescent moon
Shaped stools
Delicately dancing
At the feet of my wisdom;
Tooth: sweetened.

Biting into a Caesar brick
Closed around uninviting
Revelations,
A pale ghost runs around
The neighborhood tonight.

Grasp at my turnpike.
Leave an overspent
Midnight dance and
Recoil in pure madness
Like a sesame seed bagel,
Cream cheese.

If I wasn’t a sorcerer
Scrambling dimes
To make a call,
I’d hover gently around
My window,
Until brakes
Were squealing as night set.

Can my name
Become an icon
Dressed in black
Upon your wall?
Can a dollar get me beggars
Shooing shines
At half past twelve?

And like a crawling rat
A hood makes my figurines
Sound silent,
Grooving effortlessly
Into a sea of closed doors
That pacify each and every
Bond I’ve made
Through a long night:
Solitude.

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