Love Steps (day 1029)

What does it take to love you?
What does it mean to hold your heart?
Like a delicate silk perfectly folded
Into five evenly spaced sides
Without creases.

What kind of fingers dance, prance
About sticky honey-buckles?
Long strands of hair into the deepness of my soul.
For forever was a long drive
Straight West into sunset’s romantic heart.

What kind of foot pierces clear waters of a hidden brook?
What does the water taste like
After it drips off your tentative toes
Recoiling into giggles, riddling squirrels
Into silence.

Vancouver (day 932)

This city is turning into a love affair
Vancouver, saturated still pullin’ for more
Romance so deep it cuts as the thorn sews
Addictive in the Audrey Hepburn
Black and white kind of way
As if every breath I take leaves trails
Tracing my journey from lover’s edge to lover’s gaze
Big obscene button’ed-up and felted with a liner
Concealing secret pockets holding prohibition’s decision
With unnecessarily charming courtesy
Waiting around the thick-rimmed leather-soled sidewalk corners
As if I should recognize you
I should know that warm gaze and coy smile
Playing with my fancy as I bow
Making my way forth
Arm in arm with another happy day I’ll write home about
Chronicling my romantic love affair
With this lovely city, Vancouver

Dragging Left Wing | Chapter I (day 922)

I

[and from here I crawled out into hands of memories, settling my mind on the truth machine that worked, grinding and sharing my thoughts with light I didn’t want to see]

I was callused from pains palm, a short smile that curtseyed like a smart little girl auditioning for the lead in this years high school musical. But my fever wasn’t juvenile. My fever had the whiskers of a great old wool-cardigan-wearing bespectacled grey-haired rocking-chair blues man. Stretching in the dark rays of a smoke filled saloon.

[I always wonder what happened in those old saloons as dusty rovers would sit amongst dirty city folk with nothing but sincere silence to fold the spaces between then and now]

Tonight bid me no exception. My hands were cold and the condensation stared at me through grace’s old left shoe; the mark of a vain attempt to pluralize a bygone romantic history with dots dotting and buzzards and cowboys shouting yippy-yi-kai-yai. Yippy-mother-fucking-kai-yai. It echoed through my mind and around the rim and stirred the bricks soaking in the toxic tumbler tonic.

II

Footsteps echoed on my heart’s inner recesses [those dark spaces with lifelines directly connecting my dick to my brain], and I looked up to see what stretched before my eyes towards the skies and held my breath as I began to accept the steps I did not control, nor did I expect to know for I was but a stranger.

[what life that I did live, galloping here and there in search of reason and mystery and a place to eat my dinner with warm socks and a soft hearted woman wearing a checkered apron, and kids filling up the silent spaces that ran around the walls and raw vegetables]

[did I behold the majesty that I had so long sought?]

Flush faced and affectionately asking if she could be the one to dangle my sorrows in front of the dogs chops, to mince that meat so delicately a surgeons needle would hardly Frankenstein this wanton heart of mine. Who was I to let this poor damosel tarry there like a bird on a wire? Hardly a minute the mood I wade in expresses such distaste, so I stood to my full height, smiled my deepest smile [yet did I know the deepest sorrow spoken from mine eyes], and bid the dark haired blood-hound to sit with me a while.

III

Here I was, a confident chap, merely seeking deep within – wallowing if you will – to no particular evil that could readily dance upon my tainted tongue. But such a foe that it could be was easily scared away, for in it’s terror – which it could see – was all that met the mind. But not, just see! Oh lordy me! It was more than my racing heart could ever manage to conjure. With those deep eyes, so wild and high, so eager for the punchline. Where my first glance had hastily missed, my senses soon repaired, it was aroma – so sincere – it took me by surprise; I was just some sullen eyes, awaiting times dear romantic fate.

[what focused on my brain just then was recounted by all men; so vivid was this memory it nearly knocked me back, for I was not some phony fiend, some mocking jack disgrace. I held with me a rabbits foot, a good luck charm to pace my heart and keep it here in check, to keep my mind from going aloof awaiting this as future]

Could you feel me as I felt you, could you smell me as I smelled your soul come wafting to my heart? Did you accept, nay, did you propose this gravity as much as I had willed it so? Did your soul reach out and mingle now with my strings reaching towards your being sitting there eloquently?

[and with this I lost the senses of my reason and logic. I lost my ability to recount my tales, and verbs I sling so well. I lost my thoughts that had carried me to this smoke filled saloon]

[note: to read full epic follow dragging left wing]

Well Worn Booths (day 901)

I was at the market
Surfing along well worn booths
Passing by idle buskers
Thumbing old good luck charms
Worn away

Here I smelled service
The toils of seven generations
Sweating in the fields
Sending wives to sell
Gnarled stone washed fingers

It is romantic
Startling romance amongst
Brutal ages
Suffering humbly
Expressive humility

And at night
Late at night when
Stray dogs find moving shadows
I wonder who
Sleeps more peaceful

Riga - 201209 (596 of 605)

Crippling Romance With Stars (day 856)

I can see the stars when I close my eyes
Time flickers back to a time in space
Where long grass tickled cold toes and exposed shins
Walking lackadaisically over uneven ground
Arm in arm, enjoying the moment fully
Fuzzy groups of dancing nymphs
Flirting with mavens of the night
Desire spreading thick
Anticipating cool morning fog
Loud vibrations floating through nights air..

I can smell the essence there that night
Palpable reckoning, subtle beckoning
Tentative but raw passion driving

It wasn’t infused delusion crippling my senses
It was more romantic than that

Towards Lovers Edge (day 801)

[him]
Could you fall away with me if I promised it was ok
If I took you by the hand and led you towards the rivers edge
Kissed you upon the lips and told you now to jump
I never planned this out before, left here in my nurtured youth
Trembling as I think about unknown, about me alone
About sending you away without my written love notes
My heart pressed deep against your breast in forbidden passion
Ecstasy written between the gay light passed behind your [eye]lids

[her]
I wouldn’t let you cry out loud into the night
Unless I had also haunts of lost lovers swarming around my head
Blanket confusion tickling my conscience with what-have-you-nots
Layered upon layers of silken sheets and fluffy pillows
And teddy bears that leave empty spaces filled
And boudoirs that pacify my opaque thoughts
That wrestle with harmony of yesterday’s future plans
I don’t want you to go away my lover, but go away and leave me to cry

[him]
Did you know then what I had was what doomed me from the start
That my working man’s trousers, neither holed nor soiled
Would pit me against your desires until Eros delayed his return
Until fantasy led my thoughts around romantic lagoons of Europe’s finest
Weeping willows strewn about the well trimmed landscape
Where lovers embraced in subtle corners, lost in speeches
That wore about patience, dressed in each others clothes
I would storm the armed battalion with my bare hands to capture your love!

[her]
But passion fuels lust and leads the way to love
It flutters my lovers heart to rhythmic depth of my pride
Folding my lessons over antique rocking chairs in an Easter yellow mood
Roasting the fagot rapidly upon the hearth of my souls intentions
Acting as liaison for my patience’s clock that ticks and tocks
Rolling my vowels into soothing purring that flesh out unwanted consonants
And bring my eyes to reach at your hands that surround the soul of our family
Growing inside the warmth of a mothers tender heart that sings delight today

Blondes and Guns (day 522)

A romantic getaway that lends itself to a high action thriller
One of those old ’70s flicks that fills in with browns
Flowy Farah Fawcett hair that shimmers in the sun
And blows in the wind from the partially opened window

A silence that is foreign amongst the wooden paneling
Floral bedspread with a mysterious darkness coming from the underneath area
The type that really makes you genuinely scared to look under the bed
Duty for only the strong to survive

Waves in the distance, too far to be heard
But glimmering in the distance as the canvas lawn-chairs squeak under the weight
Seagulls busily spread their wings across the horizon
Sunscreen smelling strong around the edges of this cold tasty beer

It’s a romantic scene in our high action thriller
The rare moments the cars are ignored and domination plots are set aside
An obligatory scene but oh so necessary to sway the testosterone
Since blondes and guns make the world go round

Merci Beaucoup (day 403)

Le Daron fills my essence
Saturates my soul with
Foreign words and
Romantic candles
Night fills my lungs
With sweet soul
Long lasting vibrations
Life, and whose living
The end of an evening
Of the end of a period
Of the start of a time
To newly discovered
Sweet sensations of
A jungle within streets
A soul underneath
A land with cobblestones
Sensations among the guarded
A little let loose
A memory and a beat
The reason to my existence
Tonight I have found
Tonight I exist
Merci beaucoup

A Young Lovers Slow Dance (day 208)

Romantic getaways slowly fill the empty voids that creep up within the spaces
Hold tight the angels in the night, they call upon open windows from creeping vines
Precious laughter bottled into a fragile carafe, carefully flirting the rim of desire
Holler! Young lovers in the night; heed not the glowing numbers hovering lazily about your frame
Capture what makes sense within these bronzing statues staring gaily into the night
Play the keys of that slow song, heavy with personality and strong with soul
Dance, young lovers. Dance slowly into the night; find penance amongst the empty voids