I am looking for this.
All of my efforts and truths
Are running in parallel with my actions.
I am calling to my inner self,
Feeling my bones rumble
At each swing I make,
Splitting my observations into fragments
That live long in the hearts of men
Who come and sit and talk.
Yet this action has no idle,
It bears resemblance to sweat
Breaking the cloth in toil,
For when the sun rises in the East,
Each drop of frost rises
Like the man I am looking for.
I want to be the Saint that took you there
Walk along the sea, tightly held
Memories for me at the edge
Grand opening of what I want to become.
There’s a secret you’ve shared with me
Uncommon in its every breath
And I can hold you amidst
Setting sun and morning rise.
Make it home so I can see
Special, this touch you share
Welcoming me, sweetest treasure
A drop in my clarity.
I have withered in my seams
A coldness I knew that grew
A steady drop, a loud kerplunk
Awoken from my slump
Yet even in my deepest throngs
A gap that loosened up
Trajectory and motivate
Scraggley weeds at the dunes
Finally we’ll be here
Dancing for believing
Stuck inside an arrow
Lost upon a street
Magical magician
With a potion set for me
Learning again
To say go on and let me go
Hand in hand
Rewriting each our meaning
Before you even know it
We’ll be drinking drops again
From lines dragging down my wrists
I observed patience in a drop,
Dripping from my pointed forefinger
That rummaged odd bits discarded into
An old tin box.
I was looking for hope,
But instead found rusty nails
That left ocre upon my calloused tip,
Long ago since numb.
Dumping the remains onto the desk, I read out loud the words
That had been etched into the underside
By an uneven hand:
BOX 05 – EVIDENCE
These words sounded hallow,
And my thoughts once again followed
My wrists lines dripping
Onto the desk where an empty cartridge
Slowly rolled back and forth.
I have called you again
Tracing rain drops
Down my bleeding window
And answering to shadows
The barren tree outside
Casts upon my heart.
Held in me: Lion, I am pure roar.
If you: thy Queen, I thee King.
Shake my heart in to this vase,
Drink me in entirety
Leave not a drop to tell the tale.
Surface.
Let this not be of thy guide,
Let this be inward
For in this is purity.
Summer air and little drops
That puddle jump night to sleep.
From every lair come out great worms
Slithering through fresh mud.
Slugs depart on epic journeys
Across deep dark blacktop oceans.
And as all things growing
Most desire
Freshness from great rains,
Morning brings what can be called
A horticulturalists most desirable dream.
A curse
Left ringing
Through hallways
Fills voids
With china teacups
Which drop
One-by-one
I’ve been the leftover
The gimme-gimme gone
Got you by the balls in the halls
Leftover
Give it or not
Lost, blown in the end
A dream or a thought
Give it away, give it away, give it away
Now drop.
Let the groove hold your hands
Flow through the night
Through the eyes and the eyes of the eyes; high
See me, see the glow in these these
See the chance
Buckets fallin’ under heavy, heavy
Drops of pure bloods truth
I’m havin’ attacks
Straight to the heart
Like a shak-a-shak-a-shak
Bare chested at the moon, OWWWW
So it’s the way that we love
It’s the get it, get it
Get it all packed in the black Jones tall
Lost souls holding out
My bodies been around
Shuffled down long gray gray walls
Penitentiary
I’ve been the guilt, the reconcile
But I’ve learned you are the shift
The give it t’me, give it t’me
Give it t’me with leftovers
Drop. You’re here
[note: best read at 91BPM]