I’m growing into the grime I knew I was
Swamp land so thick in slime
Dizzy as, I cannot swim
Neither try nor do I float
Down down down I go
To leave all grassy slopes behind
My head is dripping as I cry
Dropping into necromance
I spread across my eyes
What I have come to know as grime.
Tag: float
Floating Soul (day 1693)
Float my soul as wind does blow;
A field of drifting snow.
Long grass will tickle my fleeting heart,
Field posts as my deep breath.
My wisdom is an open sea
Torrenting above this frozen ground,
Truth for which I’m steady holds
Dirt which refuses me
The steady pull of gravity.
And in this I shall forever find
Patience of the naked deciduous,
A lark, yet steadfast cold.
Inside Our Pulse (day 1350)
Hold me as we go out of our heads
And into stardust that
Continually floats about
Uncommon thoughts that live here.
Feel freedom with me,
Hold my hand tight
And sing a song
A little out of key.
Controlled by whipper-wasps,
Heavy in synchronicity
To our beating pulse
Through which our fingers touch.
Floating Tragedy (day 1146)
My heart floats into a tragedy
Like cats painted on my baby boys nursery wall.
Destined and predetermined
And midnight moon lonely.
Don’t scare me.
Don’t listen to those lonely secrets.
Don’t float the note, sealed in the
Hand-crafted sailing boat down the community stream.
Don’t cry the grass alive
From your lonely tower.
I’m a birthday balloon
From cheap dollar store blues.
My heart floats on into tragedy.
A single bill with no underlining.
I’m a water and chips
At the liquor store diner.
I’m on the lonely side of uncomfortable fabric.
And my heart floats into unrequited tragedy.
And your loose limits
Are crying my name.
Deft Thoughts (day 1046)
I was an angel;
Struggling against purpose,
Harboring desire
Deep within action words
That you could not hear,
You could not feel,
You could not understand…
But we floated
I was an angel;
Distracting minute details
Into synchronicity,
Juggling and balancing
And crawling beside
Straight lines
Wish-washing my roads
With gravel timelines..
Dirty bloody knees
I was an angel
Singing my love-rich song
With arrows and soft colours
Diluting my expression
Like overcast clouds
On damp, dreary days.
Long words lingering on,
Left behind in old thoughts.
Don’t Make Me Love You (day 1041)
What comes from me, is me.
Not painted on a shadow,
A dressed up disguise.
No, not a second guess;
Not a pressured belief.
I’m a moment of you,
In a moment of me.
Unafraid of my love
That makes you love me,
Unafraid of my love
That makes me…
Don’t make me love you.
This is bare feet
And worn hardwood floors.
Cracks and light footsteps.
Hands on night noises.
And your warmth tight against me.
Don’t make me love you
In spite all I can see.
The lonely gray wisdom
That circles this city.
I’m an unbent lover,
A sea that floats.
You can’t imagine
Where your love finds my star;
A lighthouse for the stranger
That makes me in love you
To make you to me be.
Flip (day 942)
…and these beautiful tenses that flip then and now,
That close over my eyes and filter my dreams
Into little open-lid unmarked boxes
Arranged like a Braque exploration in cubism
These tenses float through thought, itching these dark corners
And flickering little sparks about.
Sensorial-wisps tingle my toes
And I close my fists a little tighter around patched memories
For brief moments then
As I stand alert, awake, and open
A vortex envelopes myself until that split second
Where I no longer have choice but instinct
…and I flip out, eyes fluttering
Glowing like a radiant being whose reached ecstasy
Who has just downloaded boundless formations
With Nag Champa floating and settling around
Dead Leaves (day 847)
Strolls through the park now are filled with dead leaves
Dead leaves float down from shifting canopies
Deciduous trees slowly sway with mother earths soothing motion
Dead leaves blanket soiled paths laid through summer
A softening, deadening all sounds of scraping dirt
But shuffling along as I push forward
Dead leaves dance with discarded cones
Tossed away in haste during a squirrels preparation
Dead leaves share with me a full spectrum of browns
Reds, oranges, greens, purples, blacks
As they run the test of time separated from their lifeline
Dead leaves tell of turning seasons
Lazy summer indulging into autumns necessary storage
And clear nights turning into frosts morning
Dead leaves share with me the art of romance
Harmony in age
Holding hands with Mother Nature
As she guides the procession forward
The Fifth (day 841)
There were five impressions there that day
Two belonged to the Emperor King
Child though he was, vast was his arm
One belonged to the lady tea dealer
Powdered face and blood red kimono
Shimada and the Golden Lotus
Black trim like a bleeding matchbox
The fourth belonged to the fat man Hojiju
Business tycoon but despicable patron
Beard so long it caught fallen crumbs
A neck so indulged it sweat on its own
A stomach sized so large it was custom made
His breath so grotesque nearby flowers wilted
And the fifth, sigh.. the fifth
Well, the fifth is a story
Designed for only respectable ears
Those ears entirely ready to be cured
To be enlightened upon a new journey
Through and over finer paths in life
Along shallow waters edge
Where the spring tips of sakura blood
Flutter in the wind to float on away
The fifth is a story of love and then lost
A heart that danced so lightly on lilies
In the sweet summers pond, so lively with life
A story of silent bicycles rolling through
Low hanging lanes of public parks
Along delightful gardens intricately cared for
Dazzling with brilliant colors
Like a van Gogh day lit dream
And when love effects them
When love finds it’s sacred ground amongst
Great boulder rocks and tiny bonsai
When love settles the folds of a deep blue kimono
Flushing the face free of all blood
With tender thoughts of a young brides countenance
Then, at that moment is when the fifth enters
Along with its strong jawed suitor
In new business formal
But it wasn’t there that the fifth stopped its journey
A sleek rickshaw and a sturdy set of legs
Cobbly streets and dimly lit alleys
Hushed movements behind closed rice paper dividers
And sandals displayed in all sorts of hurry
Emotions rolling down the window like raindrops in the night
Comforting morning departures, comforting silence
Comforting ebb and flow, engagement
Rolling through like smoke
From a freshly extinguished candle
Escaping out through ill-fitting woodwork
Of ancient architecture
And passing through the heart of a lamenting maiden
Deep amongst the last haiku
Beside tokens with memories
Beneath bamboo thatched covers
Protected by fine silken layers
Here lies the fifth
Forbidden from all eyes but two
Forbidden from all hearts but one
Forbidden from all souls but one
Forbidden and almost forgotten
But sacred, and coveted
And lost
Feel Like That (day 827)
It’s been a long time since I woke from death
Layered with unconquered thoughts
Buttoned up with snaps to strip me bare
Visions and nature quests
Visions and serpents
Visions of the omnipresent
Gathering ’round natures ripest tree
You float with me
Like smooth wine through luxury
Shaking off cobwebs with fine tipped pens
Rummaging deep into a shallow purse
And throwing about glitter
Like momma ain’t got no worries
So, I’ve lost my excuses
I ate them with magic mushrooms
Wrapped in fantasy’s glow
Ecstasy, running free like bombs
Like bombs that ring in my ears telling me to stop