I heard you over every drone
That came into my eyes
Little did I know I could
Whisper every note to you
Though I couldn’t remember
What had brought me here
I slumped into your presence then
With my ginger and soft tipped pen
But you decided to remake
The last scene of every book
That had two lovers lost at sea
Who found each other near the end
But how could we remember
What had stolen each of them?
How could we begin?
I left my secrets at the door
And then I heard your secret eyes
Tell me everything again
Tell me all I had to hear
For I would wonder nevermore
As you were here as I was here
Like sunflowers in summer air
Like dandelions woven in your hair
Like cheap sunglasses you always wear
In what I see inside your eyes.
Tag: lovers
Gardening (day 2625)
Gardening is for lovers
It is not for somebody who hates the world,
Cant stand to wait
Intermingling with chaos
In a fabric of life.
Gardening is for those who see the world,
Smell the sun,
Walk around with silent footsteps
To not scare the birds
Who sing so beautifully
For worms beneath the earth.
Gardening is for those who feel the wind,
A sweet summer lustre
Mixed with tobacco falsettos
Amongst little poplars.
Gardening is for the lovers
Who sit down side by side
And smile amidst sunflowers and cabbage
Like the silty loam soil
Made them to be.
Beginning Goodnight (day 1850)
This is the beginning
The middle
And always the end
I have run with you into madness
As lovers
As a good friend
And by lingering moonlight
I will sing
And wish you goodnight.
Betwixt Breaths (day 1849)
We are all lonesome lovers
Shivering in and amidst breaths of lovers,
Shaking cobwebs that illuminate
Brief moments of terror and grasping
In a way that never quite becomes us.
Yet laughter sounds cheerful,
Spells swirl betwixt elated breaths
And night dies down
Into faint yellow spotlights
That ominously glow to remind us
It’s not yet morning.
And in a moment he heard her speak
And night did come alive!
All around was sparkling truths
That moaned against the moon,
While pixies danced and ran around
A beaming fire in play,
And there, as it was,
Made just for us to touch,
Warmth of everlast did lay,
Till morning had its way.
All Night Long (day 1458)
There are leftover bottles
Sitting on a dusty piano
Forgotten in the corner
Singing heartfelt bluegrass
To drunken loners
Habitually smoking
Leftover cigarollas
From playboys and their lovers
Who wore deep pocketed holes
In a beer stained dance floor
That sang hip songs
From an old jukebox
With burnt out numbers
Shuffling in the corner
All night long.
Captain Black Gun (day 1371)
Never alone he traveled the Seven seas
In sound and perfect harmony
Like wisdom is a memory
Clear blue days were sanctimony.
For our strong Captain whose sea was his own,
We fought together – bonded right strong,
Aligned was his order at once to every cause,
Slave to the Master, Master of us all.
Lost in distances were clear mountain peaks
Of a land no longer home that we’d set off from,
Wives and lovers we’d taken on who
Intently listened for our great song carrying on.
With strength of a thousand men strong
Our ship broke mooring, the voyage was on.
All hands on deck looked forward, ho!
Minds focused intently on journey begun.
Land became imagination that coo’d our souls
Quietly to sleep, rocking to and fro.
To every morning, as we woke to clear day,
Cheap sailors rations to make us row.
Night to day and dark to dawn,
Feign attempts at moving on.
A sailors dream but lasts two days,
Quickly blown and torn away.
It’s here where brotherhood arises,
Amidst thick fog and setting horizons;
A common quest, through all disguises,
Men! Heave-ho! Booty and prizes!
Aye! To think the lot a mere bunch of sailors?
Ruddy men dancing with nightly fancies!
Whence stopped at port, may the best man win!
Captain Black Gun and his notorious escort.
Tis’ not all easy for the roughest of men
Amidst all deceit lives honesty then,
A Pirate’s code delivered in blood
Rests all accused deep below their judgment plank.
And as time comes for setting on,
Morning awaits, mooring long gone,
For silently creaking we steal away
Locked in our treaty of the great Pirate code.
Off again then, land locked lovers lament,
Open sea and sweet smelling air.
All becomes lost, save the fresh smell
Of a clear sunny day and wind in our hair.
So whenever you hear tell of a sailor’s ship
Sailing through the Seven seas at a magnificent clip,
Think to yourself of Captain Black Gun
And the legend that carries the Pirate code strong.
Little Secrets (day 1245)
Chaos and love notes
Spiral out of control
As lovers and gamblers
Sprinkle good will and fashions
Like animals,
Frequent and holding
Onto undone parcels
With inscribed stories
That let little secrets out
One at a time.
Leftover Lovers (day 1110)
She was a woman who cared for her lovers
The same she cared for beggars and friends.
A little lone heart with a name stuffed with blues;
Hobo’s delight in a $10 Marlborough,
And my love never lasted in that smoke-house saloon.
Love in a little back door room.
My dreams and I was heartache by Tuesday.
Though I swam like a digger, I was surfaced and saved
In my own lonesome song.
She was a heart made up of elastics
And my twangy delivery
Was the Wednesday that I’d never start.
So don’t go treating your lovers
Like left over flipping page books.
It’s a forgotten stack, the dusty pile,
And we’re a never ending love song
With toes getting colder.
A common answer to sufferin we kept inflicting,
Two unspoken lovers on two lost Sundays.
Two out of tune guitars
Waiting to behold warmer mornings,
Just waiting on leftover tea.
She made me get up later
So we could talk of traveling gypsies
And listen to leftover records
We’d forgotten to play with brandy.
I collected your answers in tiny glass jars
For your leftover spells.
I wasn’t branded in passion;
Painted on that old saloon wall
With some unspoken love song
And leftover cigarettes sailing the sea
As I woke up to Wednesday
On a Tuesday afternoon.
Recollections and Misunderstandings (day 852)
I’ve heard those thoughts waft around before
Not likely reflecting untampered
Recollections filter absent minded memories
Speaking no evil for I hear no evil
And gods of the dance hall tighten their platinum toe straps
Lifting on the One-Two-Three avenue sidewalk
Until I misunderstand requesting minds
I say to my lovers: “I’m all man, I’m all man.”
Then in Hol-e-wood I’m left cement stiff
I’m left because I’m all that’s left
Daddies Rusty Gun (day 793)
I used to be a dangerous babe
Then I dashed away my stripes
And wrote away my lovers
I stuck them like pigs
Flapping in the breeze
Their hearts around my neck
In golden lockets
Blazed with scorn of time
Shifting about my mothers brow
I splattered about my mirror
My soul, so I could watch it
In pouting and daunting sex appeal
Seemingly oozing down my leg
As if spit on me by studs
Strap-backed homies with
Daddies rusty gun
I used to be a dangerous babe
Then I stripped away my vain
Carved remorse into my pale arms
And blew kisses into the wind