Long is the day
That approaches with sway
Blown by madness
Of ten angry horses
Tumbled autumn leaves
The sun has taken to settling out my madness
I couldn’t see the light here for a while
When I looked for each new day
A black crow came by to have a say
When I knew I wouldn’t be seeing you again
There was a memory tuned to another song
It swept like daisies in an open field
Call me when you wash away
Everything we ever tried to say
Then it won’t be so hard to take my straight design
I am ready to work here for my little means
What can I say? I think I’m getting old
Haven’t seen a city wall
Since I hurried on my way
A rush important I still cannot feel the same
I don’t want to hold onto this enormous feeling.
A Skeptic once said the past isn’t present,
So let us believe that a fullness isn’t real
(A limit we reach where we can no longer give, share, believe),
Let this feeling take us on a tenderness stroll
Like sheer cotton shading giant pillows we lounge upon,
Meandering through ancient streets and wild forests
Where we stop at every third park bench we pass
To sit closely and pretend we’re still consciously speaking
In syllables that reason can understand and explain,
For to me your words speak in gestures only my ears
– And perhaps the dear sweet Cupid who so cleverly pinned us –
Can fully grasp at, mingled so heavily with vibrant lips
My eyes cannot escape being entranced by,
And breath mine hairs can feel so warmly upon
With your gentle yet firm fingers ever so delicately
Squeezing a new pattern into mine palm of eternity.
I want to hold onto you, the back of your neck with softest of curls
As our lips mean to share what we’ve intoned of a feeling,
Forgetting for brief moments our shooting star madness
And living a while longer by the bane of our senses.
It was here that I grew
My madness held me there
My heart beat madly
My union of reaching
Ceased to hurt me
While slowly an opal
Opened to reveal
What I knew was the heart
And there a growl existed
To serenade me
Into my desire
A belonging to
And a deep inhale of
That rose and gleamed
To flourish my mind
Into madness I held
At long last
After years of toil
Of the North Sea Queen
A monument of the cold
Ravishingly cold Queen.
She screamed the orders
Barked out commands
And had off with those
Who balked at her plan.
A siren had come
And tempted her faithful
Who lasted no more
Then five nights
With what Faithful remains
– No chance –
The siren had blown
Such a warm summer’s wind
Down the back of Faithful
To what ends, no more.
Hearing the uproar
Amongst chattering icicles
The Ice of the North Sea
Knew everything devious.
Off she marched
With ten thousand souls
She commanded an army
To find the rogue, un-Faithful.
Aghast, in the midst
Of passion, enflamed
Engulfed the North Sea Queen
With icy cold madness
Catching in mid stride
Works of a lover
To be sentenced to eternity;
A monument remains.
Here I am upon the sea
Where two giants sit and wait
Singing songs to each their wave
In a shimmer upon the breeze
For with each breath they take
Comes a march of many soldiers
Attempting to take away their pleasure
Their big golden orb, the sun
But with each exhale their breath
Sent the suitors off again
Scampering along in madness
To find their legs upon the ground
So the giants sit still pondering
Each cloud that comes along
Wondering if it shall be
Married to the golden sun.
Would you be a heart that will call out?
Shoes so familiar
Like eyes closed into sunshine,
And memories that float into this blank space –
Too happy to change it –
For we’ve started to understand
That tomorrow never comes,
And all we can hold on to
Is the ball clanging around wildly
Inside what we close our eyes to guard against.
This isn’t a memory,
This is pure unabashed and secret dreaming…
A love that screams to come out,
And I’m walking through the madness
With a hope to one day find my way out.
There has been granted
Two leaves into my life:
One has been a jewel
One has been a cause.
And as it speaks its soul out loud
The vision becomes clear
And so does all the madness lay
Into a pit: despair.
But who should laugh?
Who should lament?
Who should run along the car?
Leave so slow, alone.
Who should drink the coldest drops
From deepest drop of well?
I am a poplar set in dirt
I am the fraying skin
But as my heart becomes again
I becometh leaf of spring.