I sit here in the back
Imagining I smoke
Feeling the night air
Curse through my mind
Lazy with a faint desire
To hold my body close
Skin
Presence
Ache with a consistency
That turns red
Beneath my nails
Crawling like breath
Upon night air
Tag: lazy
Shade and A Sunny Day (day 1807)
I learned upon sitting
On the sunny side of life
How unbearably warm it gets
Without a single ounce of shade,
And even when one is
Quite miserably cold
The quickness of the sun to warm
How quick to change my day.
So like a lazy dog who
Has no reserve or restraint
There I am, changing seats,
Finding warmth in a shady kind of way.
Be My Lover (day 1805)
Why can’t you be my lover?
Why cant skies call us
Hand in hand
On a lazy Sunday
From beneath checkered sheets
And last nights crumbs?
Why can’t your body tangle
Wrap the heart of my smile
So tightly in a slow gaze kind of way?
Why can’t a sidewalk be
Our waltz through a park
Hand in hand and stopping
To watch two swans bathe themselves?
Why can’t our tub be lit by candles
With a glass of wine to share
From a lazy notebook dream
On a midnight kind of Saturday?
Why can’t our every day
Hold our dreams just so,
Where routine is charming and light
And the tips of your fingers
Remind me of the frost on morning’s flowers?
Why can’t we share memories,
In a caravan of love?
A Discussion With Myself (day 1077)
day 1
What discusses me?
Sits in its bedroom late at night
And debates.
Contemplates.
Deliberates and swaps memories
With fact like evidence.
day 2
What discusses me?
In a large cozied pot
Of herbal mint tea leaves.
A fortune read.
Destiny.
Visions undecided.
day 3
What discusses me?
In my discussions with my lonely mind,
Flip-flopping wrinkled sheets
That crease my minds
Soft footsteps
Through lazy Sundays.
Maybe Today (day 1070)
I am flying above your most beautiful memory;
A tiptoe Tinkerbell tapping lightly.
[The old fir who never asked Mother
To learn what a life could really mean.]
Like a thought that followed a lazy bee
On an endless journey through paradise;
An earmark upon pages of a three quarter full diary.
[Wild leaves and sweet salmon-berries
Living in unquestionable synchronicity.]
Falling into subconscious memory;
Movement stepping towards a place,
A place feeling just like home does on Saturday morning.
[No forgotten apple weeps alone,
Returning to Mother in a final commitment of
Love, Energy, and all things unmentionable.]
Exhausted (day 3)
Exhausted, I slowly slumber sideways
Eager to do, but seriously lacking the go
Should this bother me?
Lazily blinking my eye lids
My that’s a pleasant emanating aroma
It will distract me for a little while
And then maybe, when the time is right
I’ll get up, and continue my bids