I grow patient as I roam across the tundra
Waiting for the spirit to knock me over
An instance I know will never occur
Lest I be fruitful in my efforts spoils
Take on the wayward glances
Ye mighty soldier of futures designs
Put down your walking stick
And pull through the open doors
Do not lay down yer tired shoulders
Keep the noble dresser in his tight pants
Push that foot that pounds deep into the sides of unknown stretchy walls
Past the chains, past the fences, past the rules that break down dreams
Into the void that feeds the hope and spreads the future
Comon, Snoopy, shake it now
There is no me
There is no personality
There is only little wisps of light smoke
That wander through my bones
There is no answer
There is no right
There is only footsteps pounding along ahead
That drive the future into present
There is no one
There is no indication
There is only strangling thoughts
That push away forever today
Head held high in this state of disbelief
Luck is the cards played this morning
Fortunate is the destiny I’ve swallowed whole
But I’ve abused you in your unrelenting
I’ve neglected nurturing our seed
Is this the answer, is this the way?
And you, stealer of the future
You’ve come and snatched up the drooping strings
That dragged along the floor so low
I’ve left a lover, then
I’ve held a lover, then
I’ve used a lover
Don’t cry you mocking angel over there
Standing with your wings so proud
Carrying the glue that holds the twine
Crooked boards and squeaky wheels
Bring along the wagon of tomorrow
At a light trot and loose reigns
I’m leaving now
The work of unfinished bruises
The footsteps in the mud
When I embarked on this journey
Fair eyed and light footed
I felt a relief from the pressure
A release on my conscience of
What had to be coming
A change in the scenery
A grasp on the world
One last release from all that I had
Now, half way to the answers
Too far to look back
To late to begin that
Which escapes through the sunset
I feel left in limbo
I feel clawing at my back
10 sharpened nails
I feel the speed at which
The day shall return
My time shall be halted
And the space shall be old
But with the sacrifices met
Perhaps the future will push
That which cannot be spoken
Into that which shall be
With dreams does come hope
With hope does come adventure
And with the curled fingers of the future
Beckoning for me to return
I will submit to the past
Rejoice in the present
And expect nothing from the future
I’ve been here before
This local hole
This traffic pattern
This left over dismal
Pit of destruction
Perhaps it’s maybe not that bad
Perhaps it’s maybe a lost cause
I’ve pulled on this string
Left it alone and desolate
Barren in it’s future
without hope and lost
Callused and abused
Perhaps it’s its design
Perhaps it’s just counseling
I’ve calmed down these gates
Without warning I’ve left
The hope has lasted again
I’ll wake tomorrow and see
That the work is finished
The listful waves roll smooth here now
As the cold seeks out the exposed arms
The wind, it reminds us of the time of year
To which we submit, recursively forever more
We wonder aloud of what shall become of us
Two birds that dare to dream together
A callused palm that rest a while
A sore leg that cries a little
With airplanes and tunnels awaiting fate
The dungeons of space will cry their state
And turnpikes will collect their due toll
We both shall gain together, so much more
With night skies they wake
With cold nights they shake
The morning dew from beneath their brow
A land, begone, ones future riddle
Do you remember me?
We would park down on the beach
Thinking about each others plans
Talking about us
Where we’re going in life
What our future would hold
How we believe in each other
Do you remember about Paris?
You said you would dress me in a bow
Walking hand in hand down the des Champs-Élysées
Our friends would call our names
In rich foreign accents as we passed them by
Waving casually, and going on our way
Do you think we’ll ever drive there?
Walking seems much more romantic
Then again, so does an old taxi
You in your furs and I in my bespoke
Your hair would have feathers in it
Your lace would come off black
Do you still get lost in your tea?
As you sit and stare at the leaves
Counting your black magic
Shifting your spells
Deciding when to clear the wallet
Of useless propaganda
Perhaps some day it will become old
Wrinkled from the time
But still just yesterday
Some days I can memorize the stars that look upon me
[Laying naked in the grass; I let it bleed]
Souls reach out from bloated heights
[I cry alone and let the moonlight carry my sin]
Deeper and deeper into the melted horizon
Slowly crawling its weary arc
Further and further into tomorrows dreams
[It is now I rise awake]
Galloping faster into the future
To return another day, in different form
A different place we both shall align from
Well, I’ve done it
I’ve got it working
I’ve succeeded again
Amazing myself
Showcasing my talents
Scripting my future
Solidifying my fate
I’ve finally managed
To get out of bed