A symphony of destruction broke into this heart
(a firm grip)
Which wasn’t available to remark
Due to insubstantial evidence;
Lack of memory.
Foreboding like distant clouds of electricity,
A smile lept into a place of fear
Which departed like a slick lover
Amidst heated darkness.
To which the happy couple waltzed on,
Around and around until fire held the lover’s
Freshly waxed mustache and
Used-car-garage-black dancing shoes
(no scuff marks),
Turned fast lindy hop
Which left our heroes glistening
(jacket casually over shoulder)
Upon a midnight jaunt
About the seaside boardwalk
Amidst leftover lovers and fellow romancers
(deeply involved).
Tag: memory
Love (day 1450)
Love are the whispers that ring in moments of now.
Love is the emptyness filling up an empty row.
Love is in footsteps: heel to toe, heel to toe.
Love is a memory as everything glows.
Love is a little bird whistling as it goes.
Love is a deep inhale, exhale, flow.
Love is inside like soil for to grow.
Love has two arms that dearly bestow.
Love sings a song of abundant jovial.
Love is inside, when all else returns.
Wild Prowl (day 1449)
Let go inward heart
Return soaring mind
Sensation hardly gone
Chase forever lost
Force a battle wound
Galloping wild mustang
Love is memory
Service big plan
Warrior crying loud
Hunter stalking prowl
Wild free
Released into thee
Perfection (day 1444)
Perfection is in innocence
Perfection passes time
Perfection is in patience
And I’m a doctor
Waiting at the door.
Perfection is made of wood
Perfection walks the line
Perfection watches longly
As two unobtrusive strangers
Go on casually passing by.
Perfection was a memory
Perfection shared some sadness
Perfection lasted happily
Inside a lover’s underwear
Of a shady navy blue.
Eight Legged Creatures (day 1442)
I cannot shake cobwebs of memories woven
Like the nest of an eight legged creature
Singing along to its tiny violin.
For whether I am last or first becomes
A brown bottle of almost never cared,
Sitting lifelessly on a stained cedar windowsill
Collecting dust and losing its eyes to tears,
Losing its words to years.
Somehow daughters never returned,
Sisters forgot the street number
Even though the sign sat twisted like a unicorn
Whose mane flowed so thickly in powerful gusts of wind
A rooster turned right around watching.
One cobweb strand reminds me of twin fawns
Who would wander by searching for blackberries,
Rich and prime and staining my fingers
Like thick lines trailing after a slug
Crossing a cement pathway.
I’ve grown used to the cobwebs,
Adjusted to being wrapped so delicately
Subtle changes in atmosphere
Cause reverberating sensations to flicker around
Along a one way street on the holy train.
It’s reached a point where I no longer feel
The sweet perspiration of an ice cold Coke bottle;
Instead, the roar of a monotonous dial-tone
Eager to tell me it’s all right,
And I’ve been here before.
Illusion (day 1438)
Whispers cease to fill the rounds
Your eyes become my cast-off stones
Black serpents are what thoughts become
I have spent my last reason
Tear apart fickle justifications
That purify all your moves
Lasting memories are all I save
Inward voices: my own Hades.
Dance your heart around our fire
Widows weaving, nevermore
I am undone amidst this body
I am not alone in my illusion
Ashram Day 27 (day 1430)
Here I call out your name
Into our empty guest bedroom;
We’ll never be the same
In the ol’plantation tree.
Listen to these windows
Into each others arms,
Passing through blue sunsets
Mistaken for innocent faith;
Unsuspecting memories
And I’ve drawn out your name.
Cold Sky (day 1396)
I’ve handwritten hate notes
From left to right,
Memorized verbiage
And recited it (in vain).
But every time your
Sorceress’s purple slash
Glowing culdron green hair
Circles around my mind
And escapes in little
Involuntary gasps,
I remember your name
And speak kindly of love
We never shared,
Of memories we never bothered
To sculp. For time,
Like lost memories,
Has slipped between our footsteps,
Taking our visages
Out from in front of
Ten foot windows
To Leave our strange encounters
Reflecting like
Clouds in this cold sky.
If It Is You (day 1379)
I crumple into random acts of sincerity.
“Who are you hollering at?” I said,
Half past the guilty and looking down the road at
Honesty.
Did an Angel touch your shoulder gentle-like?
I felt a slight flutter
In a whirlwind of forever,
Dancing in my opera house memory.
Hold onto you like it is you,
And if it is you be you.
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.
