Silhouetted Cacti (day 2172)

I will be the sun dripping
Down legs of golden heroes

I will be the crumbling dirt
Amidst each footstep, counted

I will be the wings soaring
To each ebb and matching flow

I will be the wandering nomad
Caught in effortless migration

I will be the passion building
Spring cannot be stopped

I will be the hours breathing
While a hand rests, exhausted

I will be the knot tied
Alert silhouetted cacti

I will be the red ball
Dipped into old red wine

I will be the front porch song
For each moment you are my anchor.

Sewers (day 1915)

It is my check into reality moment
My hero’s capacity
My fatale coup with ignorant blinds up,
Two short skips and plastic bags
Street lamps clanging away
To the tune of some bastard child’s nickel
And the corner store is closed now
So cigarettes will have to wait
Until I can find a better reason
To let my keys fall
Into sewers of my memory.

Midnight Symphony (day 1467)

A symphony of destruction broke into this heart
(a firm grip)
Which wasn’t available to remark
Due to insubstantial evidence;
Lack of memory.
Foreboding like distant clouds of electricity,
A smile lept into a place of fear
Which departed like a slick lover
Amidst heated darkness.
To which the happy couple waltzed on,
Around and around until fire held the lover’s
Freshly waxed mustache and
Used-car-garage-black dancing shoes
(no scuff marks),
Turned fast lindy hop
Which left our heroes glistening
(jacket casually over shoulder)
Upon a midnight jaunt
About the seaside boardwalk
Amidst leftover lovers and fellow romancers
(deeply involved).

Burning Learning (day 1293)

You’re not a hero until you’ve carried, tall,
Souls of motherless children upon a back so bent;
Until weather pulls your burning heart,
And swarthes upon unkempt stars.
It’s here that builds a hero’s heart,
To link a master with learning’s start.
For now and then we think we are
Beyond the truth; not quite so far.
Take your truth and run it far,
Relive a thousand lives astart!
But don’t mistake a hero’s heart
For social injustice, as gone so far.
Take your ends and tie them tight!
The ride is long and plenty steep,
And all great wisdom is buried deep.

Tall and Proud (day 917)

And into the hills I plunge my sword;
A ghastly and devilish sharpened thing
To ward off the demons of ghoulish sorts
That steal the plains of peaceful dusk
And mock the winds like cackling hens

Where do you want my heroes badge?
Shall it grace my green lapel upon
My suit of honor, ragged and dry?
I came here with a confident grin,
Now leaving I shall gaily step

For with my savagery, my valor, I’ve done
What no man here had done before;
Rid these lands from evil plague
That held your heads towards the sky
In search of reasons, and a warning sign

Though, while my road may long become
Legends of I grow tall and proud
A hero here, a myth there,
A legend told by fire lit, aye
Maturing ears of eager years

So if you come against the rush,
Some words of our heroes tests.
Will you encourage the legend on?
Trace it’s depths to the devils grasp,
Then onward ho! Triumph.