Two Five Three Six

Letters from my ancestors
Have each spelled out ten names
Two to be used in case of emergency
Five for female spawn
Three for patriarchal ties
And six as shadows of mine own heart.

I love each one as any man can
I’ve researched each story true,
Chosen from my memory
I’ve drawn each one out, too.
I hold my head up high for them;
Each they’ve passed to me their secrets.
In my hands I see their scars
So, too, I see their years.

Through their streets I have sure walked
I’ve also gone for a ride
Sitting in the back seat
Of a stuffed full 1965 Studebaker
Heading out on summer vacation.
I’ve opened the door on Union Street
To taste homemade crabcakes and beans,
I’ve rode the long trail home
Passed Devick Lake out on the range.

So each of the names I keep at the helm
Awaiting imminent deployment,
Like roses saved in a jar
A timeless memorial stored as fondness,
An old lined sheet of blank paper
Found in the desk of y’or.

Rose Petals

This is not a trail of broken hearts;
Fallen crimson rose petals
Reminding me of each cycle
Lost and reborn
Sun and moon dance.

This is a ripening and maturing
A ferment and bottle conditioned
Led by the golden tears
Of Springs fresh showers.

A frosty morning
With birds calling from branches
Yet bearing,
And a sly cat whispering:
Good day Sir, come along.

Wild Edges of Death (day 3125)

Let me feel the messy you
The one with old sweatpants
That show wild edges of your soul.

Let me smell the rancid death
Of the achings deep inside,
And the cosmic galaxy that lies
Expelled, each pore of your skin
So deeply sensed within my own
A redness on my mind.

Let me hear the groan
Of your hurt and of your gasp,
For the rose becomes
So delicate in death.

Sun Beat (day 3080)

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.

Handwritten (day 2838)

I want to lay away your story
Into my eloquent pages so designed.
For I am in no time missing
Each sentence you’ve so led amiss,
No grammatical trickery
To bequeath this budding rose
– Thorny and apical –
In transcendence I have only dreamed.
There, so I shall then pass
And accompany you upon this waltz
Through tapestry written
Upon each lazy leaflet
Dangling it’s feelings
Upon these even walking grounds
Handwritten for our love.

Pale Roses (day 2819)

And today I shall lay here
Covered in pale roses
Trying to remember
What I could never hold on to
For it has slipped
It has risen from my clutches
To escape into thin air
Like landscapes turning seasons
And wind carrying seeds
It has shifted
And now it is I
Left here invincible
Carrying these pale roses
With nothing but a dry, empty vase
Crystalline.

Just a Better Man (day 2426)

If I was just a better man
I’d have made a little change;
Words still spoke echo loud
Instead it’s drugs that choke.
I have a mind filled of veins
Tracks leading Hollywood
Straight to Reno, desert rose –
And it’s a clear night tonight.
Blackness of a heart murmur
Every shadow induces blur
That silhouette each mystery
Like whispering dust amidst a dream.
“Goodnight my well worn boots,
I’ll be sleeping in tonight.”

Listening To Meanings (day 2407)

You know
I’m standing here
Trying to listen to you
Trying to break out
Of my vision
Crooked and skewed
To a daylight
I see arching over Doi Suthep
In rose filled monograms.
A lava lamp of discussion
Concentrates my colliders
That don’t give me a chance
To deconstruct meanings.
No,
A flow has taken
Over a system of flutters,
My boredom insulting purity
That rocks back and forth
And forgetting
Once again
An understated meaning.

Letters in her Name (day 2360)

Letters in her name were written
Softly in his hand
Two times he wrote them out
One for each their dearest pocket.

– Could it symbolize their path?
Sequestration of thy heart –

To each thy moon
Held, succumb’d to fate
Was at thee other’s
Fulfilling sun.
Though seasons matched,
Callused hands
Caused the ocean
To remain
Disunited.

– Seasoned seas could not forgive
Even as thy beggar holds –

Placed into canals
Where roses floated softly
Sat thoughts burgeoning
As if memory’s remains
Were fertile soil
To plant new clippings
Sitting abreast.