This idleness
This treachery
This cannot happen
For is has spoken
Aloud
And worked its arms
Inside vices
Against terror
Wrapped around
Unspoken melodies
Yet it grew
Dirt pile
And grave dangers
Arose
From idle hands
At play
Upon the wheel.
Tag: idle
Smiling Observation (day 3168)
I never noticed your smiles at me
Though I’m sure they were there
They trickle down from a memory
Often bringing a smile to my own face.
I wonder if I do that in my own right now,
I’m of an age where I am no longer youngest
No longer subject to freedoms of fancy.
I know that often you weren’t just idle
Watching and enjoying the moments
You kept busy, kept active, kept thinking
No matter the occasion
So that perhaps your moments of observation
Weren’t so lingering after all
Were they longing?
Instead filled with conversation
And little tasks
To keep you busy against the time
That aging tends to lead one towards.
Looking For This (day 3035)
I am looking for this.
All of my efforts and truths
Are running in parallel with my actions.
I am calling to my inner self,
Feeling my bones rumble
At each swing I make,
Splitting my observations into fragments
That live long in the hearts of men
Who come and sit and talk.
Yet this action has no idle,
It bears resemblance to sweat
Breaking the cloth in toil,
For when the sun rises in the East,
Each drop of frost rises
Like the man I am looking for.
Special Box (day 2476)
Hanging on to a special gift
Love bundled into a box
Cradled between idle fingers
Tracing out a pentagon
Dangling from your neck so light
A figure un-named, divine
Keeping space for every spell
Rumbling from within
My Arbutus Tree (day 1789)
I’ve wasted the jewels of my heart
On my arbutus tree, left
As bark peels my solemn movements
Into a windy road
Lightly misting with a dark mystery
Of dusk setting in
After a long day traveled.
I cannot see for the light,
I cannot hear for the wind,
I cannot feel for my fingers
Have started to scratch too idle
At my knees, left
So bare of a kind woman’s touch
And settled on my mind
With gnarled wisdom in the spine
Of my arbutus tree.
Inactive (day 1073)
This inactive user,
Scheduled for sleep.
Retired.
Lost in thought
At the local park bench.
Idle green light.
Low power mode.
Onward (day 830)
Nothing can explain to me how shallow my pursuit has become
These little drops of innocence don’t break my heart
They tear away my idle hours in bright light fashion
They slit my throat while I stand idle gurgling in the clear air
And caress my weak sin with fabricated desire of adolescence
Here is where I float on, I laugh at distinction
That hands my soldiered frame a paper napkin
Attempting to regulate my copulating heart
Distracted in all it’s splendid gallantry by guns and money
Deeply seating my cold ways into the arms of anarchy
Leading astray the happy holidayers into darkened alleys
Filled with a sulk and a happy hour drink umbrella
Don’t crash my mission statement
Laying there idle in the parking lot
Affix the direction, ignite the heart!
Onward, my god man, onward to the stars
Let it be there and beyond, let it be the future!
Agape (day 795)
No desire, no direction pointed towards
Or passion warming the hearth
With a listless presence, standing
Mouth agape, as bait laid carelessly
In a young child’s idle play
Ebbs at the sight of prey
Understanding, in the heat of noon
Dirt clouds seeking moisture,
Wild calls shan’t be pry thy ears
Shan’t whip thy conscience into curt action
That thunders in yonder distant hills
All rests timelessly
All accumulates that which old books,
Unactivated ceiling fans, and
Old couch-sofas in a sunbeam’s gaze
Collect, like passport stickers,
Green-rot below country home taps, and
Knots in old women’s backs
Seem to enrich all our lives in
Sweet mother natures precious stamp
Time which counts ever longer
Into agape county rancher-home scenes
Tea is served through the wire mesh
Swing door on a rancher style patio
With hard footsteps of stiff manners
And an old rocking chair
With one checkered cushion
While sun recedes behind
Yonder silent hills
Slowly rocking in the evenings breeze