Leaving (day 2739)

Have you ever had the chance to leave your mind?
Take a running start and leave it down there
Magic in the heart and two more memories.
Makes me wonder where you’ve been gone so long,
Followin’ a path that weaves and lifts
Hollys and ferns and lichen too;
Rhythm and your blue and jubilant see
Fire in the palm of every river in you.

Happy is a guess I never dreamt for me,
I took another train through desert and stream;
Golden hours awaited at the end of a dream,
Though I never dared come again here.
Lonely is a story best served in the dark
That smells of an old wine and gold bound book,
Flipping to a page that never looked so good.
Words don’t make sense, misunderstood,
And a hollow in the voice that spoke to me.
Gibraltar in every step at the foot of the bed;
Carry it again for the weight in my head
Is following a noise at the tip of my tongue,
Carry me alone, so I’ll suffer there instead.

Running (day 1903)

Dear Lord I’m running
I’m in stardust, singing,
Lord, I’m running.
With a sweet land for a mind
And two cards in my hand
Lord, can you see me?
Here I am, I’m running
To the end of the line
To this day’s final sign
To the stardust on my mind
And looking for a clear sign
To lay my final jest
Lord, I’ve been coming
And here I am, running.

Golden Drink (day 1854)

I’m running around
In cat screetching circles
Complete darkness
And two golden girls;
How do the ends come,
How do we lay down plans?
And as we watched the twilight spread
A little voice came and said:
“Let your vices go
All shall be good
And in the morning you will
Return once again to drink.”

Importing (day 1207)

I am not a death trap,
I am an endless vortex
Of time wasting progress bars
Directing my attention left to right
Like I’m some kind of retro hippy
Looking for the signs.
I’m not a slow moving timeline,
I’m updated frequently;
Moving like a well oiled dance floor.
This is not death.
This is running.
Importing.
And I’m waiting.

Exactly 29 Times (day 988)

Mystically speaking, the proverbs are relating accurately;
Horizontally strengthened with the thinnest of threads
Circled around my baby finger exactly 29 times
In a very tightly strewn pattern, accidentally.

Insomniac. Running at top speeds with wild horses;
That old farmhouse sitting amongst poppies and buttercups
Where I’ve lived once before; a feeling from depths unexplainable
Leveraging it’s way amongst modernities.

So it was a callused palm that broke this frozen spell;
Alone upon a park bench of inner city, inner beauty,
Brook bubbling by with homeless and suits (much quicker)
An eye awoke to stretch it’s glorious wings wide.

To which I had never encountered before;
To who I had never held hands with before;
To where I had never stepped in and amongst before;
To here, to this home of a quietly broken fear.

Berlin - 25062012 (42 of 51)