You guarded the gate
Like Sphynx afar
Stoned and vacant
And mighty imposing
Like a thundering Lord
With a wish for more
Yet slowly people
Fell away
As bricks built upon
A ragged foundation
Of imposed rules
And stolen goods
Will always crumble
Until at last
It broke
Hinges and all
Leaving each pebble
In your wake
A memory
Of a truth once shared
Tag: lord
Learning (day 2478)
My actions are clear
But my mind is jumbled
My thoughts are strong
But my words are mumbled
Dear Lord, find me an understanding
Letting go of all left behind me
Embracing what I keep forever learning
Sitting down as world keeps spinning
Their Brute (day 2327)
Day by day
The North Sea Queen
Watched over her devoted:
Warriors of a
Highly skilled race
Rippling against their brute.
From in the sky
Her watchfull eye
Caught every bead
Of dripping sweat
And in her mind
Raced every game
Passion alone
Could not play.
Just as skilled
She lorded divine
Power over lust
That filled each eye
That caught her visage;
Then it shall succumb
Frozen as ice remains.
Yet even though
Her icy glare
Caught each eye
Who dared to stare,
She relished primal,
Openly devoured,
Sensually flaunted,
And ruthlessly
Took only prisoners.
Path (day 1945)
Every breath that I hold me to take
How it is my strength, oh strength,
That lifts me to the divine
For watching is exposed my soul
Walking the path I only know how
Say that you’re calling out loud
How it is my strength, my strength,
My ears are bound tight
To megaphones singing Lord’s prayer
Walking the path I only know how
Can sunshine ever know it’s truth
How it is my strength, oh strength,
And my wide eyes undoing my load
A burden so many shall run
Walking the path I only know how
Knee Jerkin’ Jamboree (day 1942)
This sunshine in my sky so high,
Oh Lordy, sit down and sing me a song today
I’ve got little dancers raising glasses in my heart
And the whole town’s coming down
For a good ol’ knee jerkin’ jamboree!
Have you thought about bees on a Sunday?
Bending fullness of a flower top
Slowly wrinkling it’s cheeks saying: ‘Hi!’
Waving lazily in the afternoon sky
Cause Oh Boy! I’ve sure got some cheer!
You know, I sure know this old barn door,
And today there’s nothing more I could want;
Squeaky hinges and drying wood,
And the smell of it all goin’ back to earth.
What’s happening to my soul? It’s a damn good day.
Gypsy Slide (day 1907)
There are circles bouncing all around
Get out, get the animals calling loud
Running rhythm deep inside
Hallelujah ride my Gypsy slide
Soul rumbling to the left, begun
You are the guideline when rhythms on
Let loose all the fretting critters
Come and catch what’s rumbling loose
Calling all banana jacks
Plug electricity into the sky
Lord the fruit into sweet blossom
Hallelujah ride my Gypsy slide
Lofty Wedding Plans (day 1050)
Could you Amaretto my incomprehensible stiletto? Deep soaked truths brushing up against the blue moon life story that shared Tom Waits and Miles Davis equally between the two top sheet stuffed mattress in a good lord rented room.
The walls were left bare; freedom and shit. Fucking expressionists and their lofty ideals pulsing rapidly amongst soiled novellas and empty chopstick promises. How did I get here. How did I find this spot from outside in? I left little spit smears on my way here to keep me from wanting to know the way back, to keep me from guessing at a way back, and to keep the collectors hot at my rented room door.
The walls never left me wondering for too long, they’d start dripping some smear mold juice as the clock told me late. This was after I’d fucked the last resort out of my head and told my mistress to make herself at home, to which she calmly replied she was at home. I was the guest. I was the visitor in this white washed world trying to jam my heart out in broad brush strokes and feverish memories. Not ones that were lucid, the ones that came and convulsed and controlled and regurgitated out my heart like lofty wedding plans standing alone with a big bill and an empty passenger seat.
Cause fuck brothers and sisters. Fuck their abuse and consumption and interruptions and impressions. I’ve got Miles Davis really laying me low when I need the time off. You’re not the legend I thought you could be, but I’ve sure left out a piece of the past like left over cum spots in a 17$ too good too remember night.
Daddy left me here. He was two dollars short on the rent cheque, he was two days late coming home when I held mommas starving and overdosed fingers, left the biggest hole in his smallest of hearts where I put an industry of lifelines and bagged political statements I had prepared for a two minutes long deposition. I wasn’t ruthless as I counted on my fingers the number of deadbeats I had written letters for, I wasn’t ruthless as I blew elitist smoke up the child-like innocent faces of the wide eyed yuppies.
Now dare tell me why my maidens eyes weren’t bloodshot. Why hadn’t the tears soaked through her indiscriminate and perked speedbags that kept me looking like wild Jack, wild Dad, searching for the red room. Red Rum. Fuck. Red room. What kind of luck should I bring down on such an innocent vixen? Such a loudly laughing white swan budding in my autumn garden. I’m not a troubadour. I’m a fucking junkie.
Dusty Paths of Past, Present, and Future (day 732)
Pull at me and listen closely to my hum
I rock to a rhythm, smooth back and forth
Like well worn arches out on the porch
A motion that wears deep through my history
Bled out my pores of hairy callused skin
Drug over years of toil and pressures
Mechanically pushing back daisies
That dust the path of the past
My story runs deep, like the mighty Fraser Canyon
Rocky cliffs and small tufts of grass
Where wild big horn sheep roam the hills free
And Native Americans corral beautiful salmons
Into their chutes in the fall for smokings
A lunch for colder seasons ahead
Natural processes retained for years
I’ve taken mighty rapids, class 5 with no portage
Straight on with my birch bark canoe
I’ve trapped many animals: foxes, cougars, and rabbits
Some I’ve let go, others I’ve tanned to keep me warm
Through colder seasons, six feet of white snow
And after the deep winter I’ve found high plains
I’ve run wild and free with jubilant glee
Roaring my wild head like a stallion: head of the pack
Then in my moments of charge and conquering
I’ve been run off the edge like a wild buffalo herd
Sent to my death in a natural community grave
One houndred and fifty feet down for a rocky death
My minds eye has seen a crowd gather around
Watching while others start to throw their stones
The crow has brought fortune to the lands I’ve crawled over
Where feathers flow downward into hands of the elders
Placing their wisdom upon whispers into the wind
Which I’ve caught with long glances, two eyes half closed
But my third eye, wide open and listening
For the words spoken into the wind
There have been days, with un-clouded sun
Beating down at my back as I push dirt to and fro
I’ve brought life to earth: strong spruce and tall fir
Long have I pushed a farm’s herd in early spring
Rain has fallen, in sudden flash thunderstorms
Flooding my lands all around I’ve been harvesting
Taking away my stronghold, my safety and security
Plummeting me to my natures own demise,
Struggling away at the fast currents I’ve been
Pulling at my senses and drowning in murky waters
Where long have I been lost out at sea
I’ve found one strong hand that’s pulled me out to safety
Laying me flat out gurgling with the breakers
But upon this life raft, this boat of grace
I’ve spoken with the winds speaking back out at me
It is not for the weather that I’ve suffered so
But from my own intuition I’ve led onward ho!
Aghast, the disbelievers have stepped back in horror
Striking fear of the lord in me with forced penance
I’ve cried long and hard for my own forgiveness
But left out details and implications of all of my dirty deeds
Tomorrow I shall build up around in the dirt all around
A castle so mighty, it will sharpen my eye
I won’t burn bridges others so voluntarily fry
For with help it is forward in direction I fly
Begin it with laughter, in good tune does fast work go
And I shall remember as it’s forever where I’ll die