Tag: dust

Golden Dreams

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I cannot remember my golden dreams of yesterday.
Will my words be understood tomorrow?

Each of these laid with patience
Upon flat laid twenty pound unlined and rounded corners
Shall surely carry dust until curiosity reveals,
But the binary figures carried on electricity
Floating lazily upon some unknown bandwidth
In a region East of the Alps
Well, those messages remain vague.

Those messages may die without a subscription fee paid,
And the backups may need debugging or rerouting,
Ciphers and codecs may no longer be backwards compatible.

Our graceful new line of important thinkers
Good looking important thinkers
Looking good getting there
Are too busy to see through the mirror.
What has been forgotten (by them)
Is no longer opened.
All expecting return on investments.
The new band copies the old band
But the old band wont fight back,
The old band has been to that rock show
And lost a tooth there.

Youth are changing
Renaming, rewriting, shaming,
And forgetting
At too quick a rate
To remember yesterday’s golden dreams.
The books aren’t borrowed anymore,
Libraries replaced by computer zones.
Just an endless scrolling in dark mode
So the blue light wont effect
Brain’s melatonin tonight
Because now we know too much
And what we know is unimportant
Logos lost our gravitas.

Not Spoken

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I’m not spoken anymore
Dried in a bottom of dust
Let my soul sing
With fire sparks tonight
Can’t I get along alone
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.

Forget every song
I’ve written all wrong
Glory and frail,
Perfect and undone
Startling morning sun
My breath: heavy hung
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.

Empty this bucket
Lost in a sea
Between footsteps
Greeting me
And it’s dark
Close my eyes
To forget
For Coyote whispers
And Dog whispers back.

Deepening

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You wore your hair on an unwritten novel
That was bound with your daily drawl
Mixed among the thunderstorms
Of a lonely prairie home.
Cows were milked twice a day
And dust blew into your eyes
Leaving streaks running diagonal
Across your rosy cheeks
With an agonizing look
You had long put on
Prepared for deepening silence.

A memory was your novel
That got caught up finding new verbs
For the same things you’d always done
And your hands that worked
In daily grind
With suds and lemonade
Looked increasingly like
They were forming to the job.

Why did you watch the horizon
Each day around two or three?
As dust had settled from morning’s fury
“In time for tea,” you’d say,
The milk cow, knowing nothing more
Chewed and watched you at your chore
No thought did cross it’s mind.

So sad did the lesson grow
A mind lost of ten thousand reasons
Thunderstorm in Sun’s sweet blessing
If it was not you, save pray for more
So today will sing of tomorrow
A song you knew intuitively
As cow’s milk begun to pour
And dust blew through your hair.

Bellows

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This cold landscape bellows,
Blowing endlessly
With a high pitched wallow
And I am not a voice in it.
No animated gust of white dust,
No longing wave of seed heads bobbing,
No tall tree, naked and exposed
Arms wide open
Awaiting for the sun.

This cold landscape bellows,
And I sit in isolation
Completely enveloped
By a drawn sensation.
Dampness smouldering the fire
As snow melts to ice I sit upon,
And the red tinge of frozen willows
Keeps this glowing fire
I have not set.

Deserveth

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For if I got to sail’s end
Upon the glee of life
Should shake the dust
From each thy sword
To battle, ho! Thy fun!
Not of angry blood spilled
In trod battlefield,
Nor in a race of men,
But in thy quest of spiriting
Each bone amidst my quest.
Shake me, again!
For should I not arise
To meet each day with grit,
I should sooner be trampled afoot
Each horse drawing mighty Hades
Crumpled into an unfit mess
Deserveth of lack spent.
So gracefully, then,
I grab thy sword
Clean ‘er pommel to point
Place her not to rest at bay
Amidst cocooning leather bound,
Place her strong within thy grasp
Of ambition and desire for life!

Fragments of Meaning

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Take my visual fragments
And place them at the foot
Of an old chedi,
For I don’t want my queues
To scatter my own thoughts
Like a back alley
I’ve stood for too long admiring.

Take my meaning
And lessen it’s grip
For it crawls
And has not yet learned
The intricacies of
Falling and getting up,
Though these scuffed knees
Have surely tried
Against the pain.

Hold my hand and remember
That I’m not here for a long time,
This shall become dust
And my subscriptions shall expire
Like organics back to earth,
Like music into silence
For it is without question
That life surely begets death.

Fragments of Meaning by Ned Tobin

Fever

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When you look at me
Like I’m growing thin
Edges of my sloping chin
I walk amidst my fever ghosts
Lost, dark as night.
I feel the crown
Upon my heart
Fuse into my spine
That never woke
A fevered breath
That sounded hoarse as dust.
For when the game
Of morning light
Awakens this lost night
I will address
My dying breath
So delicate an embrace.

Gates (day 3194)

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No longer could the gates be closed
No longer were they present
Abandoned
For when the sky
Turned its evil red
A wind swept in
Opening the holes
Receding each memory
Until desolation took hold
And all was washed
White with time
Which left no one
To collect
Fragments of dust
Standing guard
At the gates
They could no longer close.

Whisper Call (day 3129)

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Don’t go calling on a whisper,
Worn out in an icebox
Left behind with gravel
Torn bits of a working past.
Don’t leave it there
For it will fade until forgotten
And cease to mean
What it once meant to be.
Its function will go away,
And its form and vigor
Will become used car sales lots
At the dodgy end of town.
For there is no good come
Of a screw head stripped of groove,
Nor a dollar bill
Faded to dust.

Blueberry (day 3055)

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Blueberry, my Blueberry,
She blew away today
Hidden in a tumbleweed
She rolled herself away
I looked and saw the dust storm grow
Watched the trees bend halfway down
Even saw the clouds go by
Faster than crows fly.
All I saw was a dust imprint
Where her blue suitcase had been
And my sweet memory
Of my darling, Blueberry.