My Baby Does (day 2090)

Who makes me
My baby, my baby
Who leaves me
My baby, my baby
Who runs to me
My baby, my baby
Who hears everything I do
My baby, my baby
Who lies to me
My baby, my baby
Who works me
My baby, my baby
Who keeps me up at night
My baby, my baby
Who makes me howl loud
My baby, my baby
My baby, my baby
My baby, my baby

Angels Without Matches and a Number For My Name (day 1088)

So undetermined angels
That hadn’t written down my name
Asked me for a light
Which I hadn’t one to share.
But you know, as they were Angels
It wasn’t smart to tell a lie.
But I had this itching habit
I couldn’t shake though I tried.

The angels looked at me strangely,
My eyes right back at them
With eyebrows quickly twitching
Like two forgotten nuns at prayer.
You could tell they weren’t impressed
By the color of my hair
For I had turned it over
Like my favorite forty five
That had recently been spinning
On my hi-fi stereo.

The one said, “Mister look here
Though we don’t look like much,
From battle we have come,
You can see we have our wings
Floating elegantly behind.”
I said: “yeh sure man, I see them there behind.
But I think that you’re confusin’
That I might be someone else,
For I’ve got some pretty faces
Expecting me to come back home.
I mean you both no harm,
You can understand my duress.
But I’m going to pay the cover
And say all my goodbyes.”

So they looked each other over
To decide just what to do.
I picked up my old envelope
With all I had to ever offer.
They handed me some matches
With a number snuck inside
One that I’ve never called
And I hope never see again.

There I Lie (day 889)

There I lie
Face turned towards the heavens imploring
Seeking questions
Yet written on my mind

Sun scattered eyes
Blurring crimson edges
Setting fire to
Out of focus pins and needles

Before deaths cry
Wind whispers shallow markings
On seasons frozen skin
Betraying movement

And forgotten
A heavy coat leaves
Memories
Without occupation

2013.10.23 - Prince George Trails

Her Hands (day 835)

Her hands will die
Maker’s shoulder
Sifting clean sheets
Un-kept wicker

Lie not to her
Monotonous
Cold cold flower
Hold not wishes

Wind blows strong here
Lives hold on with
Tall tall top hats
Blurry shading

All I’ve covered
Dying grasses
Loudly told me
Surrender youth

Make me love her
Dying oak tree
Make me cry here
Falling dead leaves

Take me home my
Lonesome lover
Take me past all
Reverie then

And if this aye
Shall swerve this goat
To set me free
Shall make an end

Then ere warned
Five thousand shorn
A gooses neck
Death brings this end

Wilfred Sameuls (day 721)

Nope, I will not do it
I will not use my size to destroy
I am a peaceful, civilized rhino
You should know this by now
Don’t you?
Have I been living my life as a lie?
Lost inside my head and
Believing things that really aren’t?

I’m lost boys
I’m quite shocked of this
A bad rapport, us rhinos get
We scare easily, it’s true
Stampedes are natural
With so many of us together
But you just can’t do that to us
It’s bad manners to jump up
And scare us like that

But anyways,
The wife’s got the water on
Could I interest you
In a spot of tea?

Wilfred Sameuls, a rhino

Wilfred can be purchased here.

Spinning Circles (day 276)

I could light up a room full of lost causes
I could make my neck worn out
From the ever spinning circles
I could love the little light on
At the far end of the tunnel
But with all this pent up energy
I could never tear your heart apart
I could never walk alone along
The ever spinning circles here
The ever increasing boardwalk where
My pennies never fall too far
But idly standing by so close
Are the ravens and the hawks so dear
I’ve given them all my food
Now they’ve come for hair
“Dinner time was hours ago”
I yell from my twisted knoll
They don’t care
Or perhaps they do
It’s just the language barrier that overrules
I lay my gaze upon the maze
Spinning in circles out before me
I watch the masses
Gather their plastics
Make do with what money can buy
Perhaps share themselves some dollar bills
Perhaps watch as Cinderella waltzes
Her shoeless countenance slowly down the long stairs
I could watch her for hours
As she moved in her spinning circles
Up and down, and all around
I could walk up and hold out my hand
Perhaps it would change the fate of mankind
Perhaps it would turn our world upside down
The charming prince would never have known
The sisters would have been left alone
I could have spun my dear Cinderella
In spinning circles around the open streets
Watch as the pumpkins and field mice
Pulled heavily on the reins
Or perhaps in my new world
There would always be sunsets
No more sun going about its spinning circles
Just moments of fun
Judged merely by the growing grass
The growth of the beard
The interest in some rest
Or perhaps I could slowly slumber
Down a lamp lit street
Snow growing rapidly in the corners
No traffic, it’s that hour of the night
Pausing, maybe, to watch the snow
Spinning circles around the glowing light
Fluttering nicely down onto my nose
Perhaps there is a girl there
Hand stuffed in my pocket
Taking me in spinning circles
Around the blocks, looking for the best cafe
The one we’ve been always looking for
Dressed in our shades of black
Mod hair to the side part
We used to drive
But there were too many spinning circles