Tag: mail

Cold Fusion of the Mind

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Cold fusion plugging my artery
Making its way into my brain
Locked in embrace
With two swines for dinner
Make me a salad if you please.

And a winedrop
Caressing the glass window
Spilled over with a passionate moment
Left a gray cloud
Hovering closely
To the carved portrait on the wall
With graceful messages
In times of need
To all those who took to listen.

And I never left the door open
To invite all the neighbours
Though they took all the mail
And ate the fridge dry
I wore my best suits
And tied my own tie.

Who listened when the podcasts were turned on?
Will the beet juice stain
Each keyboard with fury
Slowly running down the lips
Of the sweetheart
With eyes of translocation
Heavy on my mind.

Sun Beat (day 3080)

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It is not for the beat of my drum
It is for the beating of the sun
Cooked in red/yellow rays
Reminding me of an old letter
That came in the mail
Holding three dried rose petals
And one single ring
Caressed in my worn hands
Like a mother would
On the day that love did win
That shall come to pass.

Rural Mistake (day 2898)

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A rural mistake
Guarded by bats
Unconsciously sniveling
At the raw oysters
Sitting on the table
One spoke a word
That called out in a jest:
“How dare you speak
Of trash in such a tone!”
So the mail was gathered
Street was paved
Lawn was mowed
And the car was deiven
Straight off the cliff.

Aroma in a Window (day 2533)

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My window looks out
Lost deep into thought.
Two strings I had to pull
Let go their fray
Unwind I went along the walk
River and then back
Which brought me to a stranger who
Said I had two letters of mail
Being symbolic of my thoughts,
Left me on the precipice
Until my coffee had arrived
And aroma filled the air.

Mail (day 2467)

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Letter’s in the mail to a woman I’ve never met
Confessed it all in one fifteen letter script
Could this have just been a trick?
Sloppy like the moon on a dreary midnight
A newly appointed butler hanging upon my every word
Carried it too far for I’m an ant within the bathroom
Headphones on a slow bus lost in darkness
Two beats I keep tapping on the wooden sided seat
I’m still working on a better wrong
And tomorrow I’m going to have a word with the mailroom.

Twisting Trail (day 2127)

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Papa could’ve been another type of man
Like a raindrop could be caught in a hand
Let another letter slip through the mail
Gone again gone again as heat prevails.

“A little gone,” says the better man
Couldn’t you have just set it right: a plan
I said goodbye into a dusty pan
Held it close as I looked inside.

When the needles dropped upon the forest floor
Little birds gathered all around
Snowdrops sprouted into the sky
And the trail twisted on.