Today’s coffee reminds me of the day
I ripped a six inch long
one inch deep hole into
the back of my leg.
Thirteen years old,
maybe I was fourteen
at my best friends father’s shop
he worked a lot with cement
and had a big yard
with mounds of gravel
we’d go up and down and around
on our new single track bikes.
It hurt
it hurts
and memories are always there
to bring me away
and back
to where some memories hurt
but ripping the hole
didn’t really hurt
flesh wounds are like that.
Tag: flesh
Beside Me (day 3009)
I took the worms
That had begun to gather around;
Flesh eating
Blood suckers,
Lost in red velvet feelings.
I took them to mass
Where we prayed for health
Like sordid strangers
Walking along
Black and white city streets.
I took them with me
For I had begun
To understand them
As they wriggled
Turned over in ecstasy
Amidst and amongst themselves
And beside me.
Lost and Blurred (day 2925)
The road lost me here
Too many turns
And too many good songs
Singing to me
Through four speakers
And four tweeters.
Windows rolled down
To Day’s hot wind,
Never able to escape
Sun’s firey glare.
My eyes dazed
On Highway’s glaze,
And your arms
Never quite let go
As I looked on, after you
Departing in flesh
But long from forgotten.
And the good songs
Carry on
Over my Mind’s hum
Blurring the wheels
Passing me on by.
Throat of Life (day 2847)
Wind is howling through this house
Like inescapable tombs of our past
Flesh biting flesh
Wrapped with fabric so dusty it crumbles.
Yet in open webs I can still see through
Nostalgia hits an ancient bone
That even her subtle breath of wind
Finds it hard to escape duty of.
Slowly eyelids close as raspy sun strokes,
A dying ember reminds us each
That our throat of life
Calms the day’s very nature.
World in You (day 2311)
This is for the world in you
The orb that pumps so freely
So guided and gentle
So fierce and powerful
So knowing and certain
And comforted and questioning.
This is for standing tall and yelling
I FUCKING LOVE YOU
Because I do love you
And I hold you in more than just my thoughts
For my strength is more than just my muscles
I hold you in my self
For myself
You who are myself and who are else
Who tempts me
And shows me
And lifts me
And challenges me
Who gargles my breath and spits out my flesh
Who grips on tight when the lights turn down low
Who opens each door knowing
That on the other side
There will be no more turning back
Because this is for the world in you
And the world in you is calling
On the world inside of you
To take comfort
With the world in you
Because this world in you
Is for the world in you.
Ask Embla (day 1551)
Buri, Buri, Bor’s three sons
– Odin, Vili, Ve of Bestla –
Take pain from frost ogre’s Bos
Who suckled life
To Ginnungagap’s gain:
Fire to ice,
Melt to freeze,
Blood to water,
Flesh to land,
Bones to mountains.
But pass great peaks
Will come to be,
Ask and Embla
Be flesh to climb,
Ask and Embla
Shall mind land too.
From our Odin: spirit;
From our Vili: will;
From our Ve: wisdom.
Together a triad,
True Aesir indeed.
Flat e (day 1215)
There’s an undercurrent of pressure
Rolling around like two dollars
In a drunk-night saloon.
I’m making headway on flesh insight
With no time to spare.
Gin’s hovering around
Whispering sweet nothings in my ear
And two dollars keep talking to me.
Two dollars.
Two lone shooting guns
Winking at me from the corner of the room.
I’m lost in a swimming pool
And walking down main street
Whistling a sad song to a lover
Who’s missing from my arm tonight.
It’s a long walk fishing out these memories
With my flat E ringing through
Cobblestones and lampshades,
Dubious shadows I’m not stopping to
Make friends with.
Two dollars.
I’ve made my peace here tonight.
My undercurrent of pressure
Hanging low with the full moon
That’s grabbing at my coattails
As I make my way toward the exit sign.
Dandelion (day 1104)
Designed and betrayed
The dandelion reaches proud.
An arc culminating in a golden crown;
Surrounded by disciples.
So fresh, so close to sour
Yet so understandably healthy
In this alternate way of living.
To be flesh, then wither away.
Flounder into delicate wind swaps
Floating on forth, forever more.
Bloody Knuckles (day 372)
Fully loaded with iron fists of chance
Looking for a way into the new world
Looking for a breath of romance
Knuckles bloody with beating
Hands taught with the rings of chains
Guilty with the pressures of intoxication
Hacked by the curses of Mordor
Beaten by the eyes of the remedy
And soaking in the sin of the distance
Stepping over stones
Looking at hands full of soot
Hands, full of lines
Left over memories
Stories that need wise eyes to tell
Cards that stare back at the sin
Groove talking, sinister dealing
Mad man making, life(less) wielding
And here I sit, working with endless gaps
Pressed between my teeth
Like the random stones of time
Breaking beneath the uneven ground
Ground like flesh in the night
Foolish sinners who mask their pride
Lust will not await the banked remorse
Love will be lost in the ground up strength
Perhaps then the beautiful wisps of dust
Will float their way north
In an never ending spiral towards the sun
Gravity not taking it’s toll on this lone son
Green grass sinking in beneath the toes
Making the glow feel less awkward
Hiding the turmoil like a warm glove
Today will fill up the soul