My water buffalo languishes,
He stumbles and wears lollipops
In his big ears.
Like fountains and mountains
And entropy in the wind,
Like envelopes and cantaloupes
On my mothers antique oak.
I droop with my succulent.
I hang out to dry
On an island in the sun
With passing blossoms
Scalloped to catch rain.
Tag: mother
Maybe Today (day 1070)
I am flying above your most beautiful memory;
A tiptoe Tinkerbell tapping lightly.
[The old fir who never asked Mother
To learn what a life could really mean.]
Like a thought that followed a lazy bee
On an endless journey through paradise;
An earmark upon pages of a three quarter full diary.
[Wild leaves and sweet salmon-berries
Living in unquestionable synchronicity.]
Falling into subconscious memory;
Movement stepping towards a place,
A place feeling just like home does on Saturday morning.
[No forgotten apple weeps alone,
Returning to Mother in a final commitment of
Love, Energy, and all things unmentionable.]
Signatures (day 1022)
Where dizzying spells
Slowly pulled me around
To break sound echoing
Of morning Woodpeckers
Resting my eyes
Into the darkness
Into the evening
Into my soul
That searches endlessly
As torches blaze on
In the far off distance
Awaiting our great Mother
To signal once more
That daybreak is upon us
Rupturing tranquility
Into a heavens daze
A fresh smell of lilacs
And signatures begin their drawl
Crowd Sourcing (day 1004)
An eager atmosphere pushed the Devil to yell
He barked at the moon like he was rattling hell!
And out from the works came scuttling all
To exercise weeping; watch the blood fall
Leveraging our fathers (our mothers) with time
In a forceful toil-workers rhyme
Which consumed a brackishly concocted design
Of feathers and chicken bones and half frozen lime
We beat reason into apathetic institutions
Who spoiled magical innocence and intuitions.
We followed the Devil with dazzling premonitions
And were left alone; a severe lack of solutions
But whispers died slowly as the fog rolled away
Laughter could be heard above those who’d been slay
All in a night which reeked of delay
And the Devil returned home carrying his lay
Slow Low Whistle (day 989)
Mimic my every cry
As I let you whistle low
I’m ready for the hunger
I’m ready for the feast
Left alone at the crossroad
Pack all filled with air
A dollar too much down
Dusty register’s golden crown
Felt hard in my left
Checked the other one again
Heard my freight-train-a-coming
Lookin the other way now
Long road comin hard
Off to another day
Felt the executioners tail
Felt the grip to mother-me
Ramblin rose staring at me
My eyes gone, going back understood
Creeking sleep covering me
Lurching stops frightening me
My bag and me settling in
Easy train rumbling on
Lost my voice miles ago
Keeping my whistle down low
Reverie (day 967)
The day that I died
I rose to heights I’d never imagined
I screamed at the clouds
For breaking my ascent
And snarled at the trees
For leaving me behind
The day that I died
I put two left socks on my right foot
I wore my pants a little bit low
To scare old folks
And throw out literal puns
Like the madman I was
The day that I died
I gave mother the biggest hug she’d ever had
She felt within her own arms
The rise and fall of my own heart
She cried great tears that washed away villages
And carved out the mighty Fraser
The day that I died
My heart went to Tibet
Where it sat upon a flagpole
And could do no harm
In times of need, it was unbounded luck
To those who wished upon it
The day that I died
Not a piece of green grass died
Lush was the planet
As the stars made way for me
To call into eternity
That which cannot be given a name
The day that I died
Reverie floated about
Where we lost moments that chided
Our deep complexion of humanity
And all about the silent house
Peace was found existing
Dispelled Legions (day 900)
Legions of piping bands
Tunics bedazzled with
Ten foot peacock feathers
Rubies hemmed with gold
Chin straps and rosy lips
While out of breath
Gasping for breath
Left right left
Left right left
To the tune of ancient mariners
Ramshackled by a recent gale
Lonely and bygone
But strapped with infinite hope
Discovering smiles
On passing children
Who stop and stare
Slack jawed and dreaming
Holding mother’s pant leg close
And the song chirps loudly
As all of us dream
Focused determination spreads
About each members mane
They walk the fine line
Between 7th and Fraser
15th and Vine
On past these streets
In a cold autumn breeze
Biting into saturated spectators
With empty bottles of hot chocolate
Rattling along with cold children
And dispelled souvenirs
How Do You Like My Red Sweater, Mama? (day 860)
I told you mother I’m really not in the mood to be talking about it
It’s been on my mind and bothering me for a few weeks now
And we’ve discussed all the options
I haven’t come to any conclusions about it and I’m really not sure what to do
I know that you would love to help me
But mother, I end up getting excited and upset when we carry on this way
You just shake your head after you know it all and judge me
It always just turns into you telling me you told me so
That you have brought me up better than this
And I just can’t take that right now
Mama, I love you.
How do you like my red sweater, mama?
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
Mittens (day 513)
Blitz that awkward mother fucker
Lost in some kind of pre-pubescent bliss
Thinking the toadstools are real
Living in a fantasy world
Gamble your life away to a blind princess
Who listen with her wallet
Dying sweet surrenders
As she picks apart her next innocent victims
Don’t you watch the business son?
Lord’s saying your nickel’s no longer good here
You put your peanuts next to mine
I, who sit here with diamonds in my eyes
Falling through loop holes and digging through broken bones
You aint got no footsteps here son
Now put on your mittens and find your way home