This is my ol’ home
Two roads lead here
Two roads take me home
Raccoons, beavers,
White tails and jays,
Red spruce, gray poplar,
Two swamps and a small creek
Can’t think of no place
No home I’d rather be
Such yearning to stay
Here at the ol’ home
‘Tis here I’ll be stayin
All ghosts know my name
Been sleeping every night
In sweet long grass
Under constellations
I know by name
Family designs
With a dog who’s as dirty
As the dirt that sets us free
South facing slope
Stage Coach remains
This is the place
I take to callin’ home
Here you’ll find me
Two roads have taken me
Two lives have led me
To this old place I’m home
Tag: ghosts
The Old School House (day 2565)
I dream often of the love we once shared
Often we’re walking down the steps
To the Sea, to the sand and wind
Where we shared lunch so fondly together.
I dream of silly conversation in a rented car
Where you showed me the house
You were raised in
Next to the old school house you played in.
I think of the way your hair came down,
The blues of your eyes as they stared into mine
Sitting in your old but geand chair,
I can only imagine you were wondering what I had planned.
We’d walk through the graveyard with your dog
That quickly adopted me
A walk I enjoyed finding names I had never known of.
It was here that the ghosts came to me,
Black top hats and leather soled shoes
That met us, dignified with a long fur coat
Set to ward off the coming fall colours.
I dreamed here, even then,
Moreso than I do now.
I hurt then moreso than I do now,
But the sorrow is still inside
When I remember what had been
And what, in my foolishness,
Let fall softly away like the shirt I never saw you wear.
Yellow Flavored (day 1174)
I whispered to ghosts
Who sang out my name
[No more shame left in
Wooden flowerpots]
Life is a gift in
Yellow flavored
Setting sun lines.
[There is never loss]
Of cycles continued;
Webs in the wind,
Land is my name
To the edges of yellow.
Cracks (day 893)
There I was with a paddle in my hand
In the middle of the city
Lookin’ for my river
Heat radiating off the dusty path
Cracks running East to West
And a nickle and dime store
Spinning hot air around
Dropping beads of sweat off exposed refreshments
Ghosts were speaking to me
Sitting there on the boardwalk
On old wooden stools
Grass tooth-pics jutting out
From unshaven scruff filled chins
The lot of them
And me with my paddle
I just stared at them
Ignoring the patient sun
Grumbling away as if mid-day hadn’t already come
I couldn’t tell
Dazed as I was
Had it already come?
I checked my six shooter
And slowly turned North
Towards the fresh BBQ smell
And the slow sweeper
Minding the cracks in the boardwalk
Lookin’ for my river
Dirty Secret (day 632)
For a while there I was thinking of quitting you
My dirty secret
My dungeon of love
Your united sound log
Your division of hope
I pushed you forth without ever knowing
Then you tossed away the breaking point
And spat it all across the roxy red chairs
Peanuts and gamblers
Standing around
Betting on sure things laid out to waste
Frothing animals with strapping young lads Riding their backs
Challenging each poser who attempts to stretch into the lead
Corners and white rails with grass always green
And a little buggy trailer that spins once around
Chasing some distant smell out in the grains
Smell that fooled no one that came out of the benches
Punching through lost bottles and dribbles of spit
Discarded score cards with random numbers
Little numbers, faint numbers, broken numbers, black numbers
Doors swing wildly here without much aim
Ghosts come and go, lost without a name
And in all the hallways one can hear the distant thunder
Of heels pounding against the ground
Dust (day 472)
A lonely seat that waits at the end of the bar
Clears the cobwebs from ones imagination
Marrying innocence to thick laid smoke dust
That one can never quite resist smudging
Perhaps that’s when the ghosts return
Walking in like they’ve never left the place
Light beams catch the dust they turn up
Barkeep still remembers their favorite drink
Their old friends come up and say hi again
Laughing as if one am just rolled around
Not enough, but still a lot
They wont be going home early tonight
The bottles at the top call out quietly
Asking what day it is today
It always speaks in that aged, wise way
That understands it’s all going to be alright
But where did my companions all go
The rest of them dance around here merrily
Red cheeks and full bellies roll
And the door swings shut, silence spills around