I am not an angel.
My wings broke,
And the sky laughed
While sun spit pink
Upon both edges
Of the letting horizon,
And just as trees
Bagan to bend
Like wings of a crow
Moving again,
My two feet
So placed
Into thick layers
Of mud, unfolding,
Began to tremble
And quake
Further losing development
Of each gray spot of mind.
Tag: pink
Not Yet Done (day 2594)
I woke up to the sounds
Of a dog barking
Like a million dollar sports car.
The blue sky was making its entrance
To the brisk morning chill,
Slight pink,
And wooden planks reminded me
My work is not yet done.
So I stretch my eager muscles
Give the dog his food
And make my way for morning porridge.
Safety Net (day 1471)
My safety net has developed holes,
It’s begun to sink with rising tides
That are bringing plastics and driftwood
Into the already discombobulated foray
Of pinks, greens, oranges, and dust.
My dental-floss fixes promote algae
In places I don’t want algae.
Is this growth?
Have I become burdened with my own safety
To the point I’m now over my neck
And flailing for life?
Is this harmonious with progress,
Or is this the definition of distraction?
I recognize I’m becoming dizzy.
Dram of Poison (day 994)
A needle digs deeper guiding the well worn thimble on
Scaring dogs, singing and howling like Big Momma John
Like she’s snaking about a pale spotlight covered in sequins
Singing the whole time about a blue moon kissing her empty bottle
And filling each patron of the evening with wonderment
A quiet lady, sitting idle at the bar dressed only in pink
Clinks cold bricks slowly about the smoothed edges of her glass
Pulling at her soul for every single bit of truth she has
With high hopes that this very night will reveal all that could ever be
And harness her abandon like the piano pullin’ Big Momma John in
A mood envelops the patrons, sensually gliding from table to table
Touching far reaching itches only elation and jubilation can satisfy
Like the silver lining on a red velvet goblet
Deadly for all those unaccustomed to these desires
And final, like large Gothic keys hung around the undertakers neck
Filled With Sin (day 587)
Pink dress I see you
I hear you loud and proud
I feel the place filling
And I like your devilish grin
Candles fighting proudly
Lights dimming slightly
Heat keeps on rising
Passion builds more passion
I’ve known you here before
I’ve seen you run your way
Now you’re pullin changes and
Now you’re a man with sin
Three piece suit, chained watch and
Fedora cocked as proud
Black and white keeps us shining
Where your smile is yelling proud
I see your tie so clearly
Contrasting with that linen
Working over crowds
Taming ladies with strings and
Hats, hats are everywhere
With golden flickering gems
Loosely hanging evening gowns
So gracefully cut for the evening
It’s New Years after all
It’s the party of the year
Can you hear me shifting easily
Feel me breathe it in
Jaw lines pushing boundaries
Cutting lines through darkness
Sinking the soul in
I’ve crawled around destructive
Tonight I’ve filled up with sin