Lagoon (day 1068)

I was escaping a tear drop I had left beside the bed:
Tears of mixed emotions, like a fleeting moonlit night.
Stuck there; family man and the rock and roll band.
Jesus and his long haired hippies that didn’t wash their hands.

I played a mouth organ as I whispered at swans
Floating by the dock of this lost lagoon
Where my nimbly toes wash cotton balls free like fresh sheets.

I didn’t even turn around to that old familiar sound,
Lost in a pool of choreographed love letters
I’d heard in a song driving fast and straight down Paradise Road.

The things we used to do, the life I used to live.
An old loon used to sing the sun to sleep here every night.

A Love Note (day 781)

I thought I was picking up a love note
Delicate letters written for her eyes only
Speaking of some fair damosels beauty
With long golden hair so fine
Fairy tales were written with it in mind
Perhaps of her smooth and noble skin
So soft it soothed any sad thoughts away
I thought I was going to read about
Such graceful and elegant fingers
Scarcely seen a day of hard labors toil
Or of the emotions evoked from
Eyes so blue and deep
Philosophers sought them to speak of future

But alas, what I had found
Was a list of odd measurements
Unintelligible and incomprehensible

Fever (day 598)

Washing off the whispers that have floated over my body from a lover isn’t as easy as it would seem. The emotions gather around and within and caress my soul until I fall down to my knees begging for forgiveness. I die as the silent wishes wash over my naked body laying in the cold moonlight that howls at my soul. And here, I cannot sleep for all the whispers float over my body. There, and there, there is where I float away from my secrets and fever to a land where no emotions flow.

Luminescence (day 293)

Perhaps it’s the luminescence of the situation that drives one to distraction when playing the small little games away from the goal.

I like to think otherwise though. I like to think it’s the severity of every single little nuance that will effect the end that sinks its way so deeply into my seared skin.

This, I’m ok with. This I’ve worked out long ago to be the true essence of life. The true essence of every single step that we take as we push forth. And in fact, with all of this that we push forth with every single day, everything combined, this is what makes us who we truly are.

When some of us sit on the the milk crates and watch the world pass by, or take the car down to easy road for a bite, or push the effort so easily away from the direct line of sight, some of us tend to also make our own destiny with the same efforts that it would take to take one single step into the future: forward.

Then some of us do not sit. Some of us push into the ground for stronger traction as we lean up against the building, tempting it to move a foot to the left. Some of us take that step into the darkness, and play with the fate of the unknown, unspeakable, unrealized, but oh so enjoyable.

In a lurch of passion the crucible fell to the floor and silence ensued. Lord have mercy on our souls; we were still standing. Still able to breath and had not yet been ruptured into the unholy gates of hell. There was no fancy smoke machine inhibiting our abilities and senses. And yet, as we lazily gained our wits and made our way casually back to the cheap diner for our fix of a makeshift, half way to noon morning breakfast, we still felt a nagging luminescence of the situation lurching forward into our sub-conscience.

I like to think we have no idea what we’re doing. I like to think that this is all just a dance as we make our way through the stratosphere of energies and emotions, trying to balance delicately on the surface as we push our consciences north, into the space that is a pretty good fit for a long haul home.

Flutter (day 182)

She lies motionless as I engrave her grace
Enchanted she is as animate as motionless
Yet somehow, without movement or flutter
She is everywhere inside of me
Raping, grasping, pulling, embracing
She motions me to open up
Allowed the emotions they flow together
Shut off, she lies there, a motionless circle
With.more.batteries.
We always play the wrong things
We always love the wrong things