Fireworks (day 2703)

My thoughts go back towards the dawn
You first appeared to me:
Awoken was I to rambling words
Two girls having quite some fun.
Little fireworks then erupted
– Thoughts of what the day could bring,
Sure enough I was distracted
Just as now I trail away.
You had a headband
Upon your ears
That made me think of a tough mudder
And a friendly friend and dog,
And a dog seat to be cleaner.
You smiled so freely, so effortlessly
So relaxed and free you felt;
The vibe of adventure,
Two friends forever!
One a nurse with a blue sporty car,
The other for pets her heart
Soon one me over, indeed so clever
A patience game of time.
Sure she may not have the shoes
For every single occassion,
But if she has the sandals for
The beach around the corner
Then maybe she will stay with me
And help me tune more fireworks.

Trying (day 1811)

I know I should take the bait
Take a long lineup of hardship
And exchange it for matching shoes
With couples pillows
And a constant strain
On the middleman
Who religiously writes me, nicely,
Every two weeks to tell me it’s OK
And leaves me wondering
What I had once thought
Was a romantic idea,
Because IKEA has enough assemblage
To make my choice just hard enough
That I won’t mind inspiration
Now filled with a cacti,
Leaving little room
For an inspired thought
That keeps me thinking I’m trying.
And I am trying.

Diamonds and Ashes (day 1743)

I opened my eyes and in shined diamonds
Yet I could hardly wait
For my late date
Who ate pickles and jam on toast
To buckle her two shoes
As she counted to three
And played guitar on the leftover string
So I tiptoed
Down the sideways road
That whispered: “Let me in,
Let me in, let me in.”
And here I began
With my hand in the sand
To rub diamonds to pearls and ashes

The Art of Forgetting (day 1035)

Even visitors don’t bring lost songs
As they wipe their muddy shoes
At my open doors.
Like angels losing faith
I roam from here to you.

Along my back door, trails:
Straight out from here,
Switch crossing deeper into the woods.
I catch your disguise
Lost in my naked eyes.

Because I don’t know the answer.
I don’t know why we laugh
At birds feeding hungry.
I don’t know why I hear you
When you think long and
Deep into hollow’s eve
Flickering against the softness.

To catch me is your effort I praise;
Perhaps my missing piece,
My soul’s mate.
But long dropped baskets
Keeps staring at me.

Pages (day 820)

All my lies are filled with unskilled talent
Washing out the good pages
Diluting the mixture until I begin to believe them
I should be sentenced to death
For the nonsense I pretend
If it weren’t for the gamblers
For the fortunate good-will
I’d find myself lollygagging lost
In the lies I weave around my butterfly
Dancing in my pretty shoes
And printing more pages to spoil

I Danced (day 787)

I danced like I had hot rocks in my shoes
Spinning in the cool night air
All around me gathered friends of friends
Fur tails and leather pouches and
Glow sticks in their hair

There was a beat rumbling forth
Striking notes inside my soul
Moving my hips in synch with beautiful people
Surrounding me, smiling as I spun
Watching the light play tricks
On the trees beyond

I didn’t reach out and touch anybody
Far too reserved with my mind about me
Watching the multitudes surge and fray
While the studs balanced upon their horses
And the ladies flaired up their feathers

I danced tonight with unequal steps
Shaking in weird beats per minute
Lights temporarily blinding me
But not a care in the world
With every note stirring my soul and
Shaking my knees with grooves

Long Forgotten (day 749)

Will you still love me when my hands have burned to dust
Love is sadness that carries golden rays of sun towards dusk
Did sounds of heartache keep you awake at night
Blood oozing from hands that toiled for your fortunate future

Will you still love me when my hands have wrung themselves dry
Sitting here dancing with eyes around the moon tonight
Our dreams dressing up in black and white shoes
Placing our love into lust into locks of curly golden brown hair
Twirling ourselves round and round to the tune of trumpets in summers night air

Will you still love me when my hands have curled against time
Sheltering our eyes against the hours of sunlight
Carefully pulling apart leaves that shelter the garden
Shaking away caterpillars nibbling on precious shards of life

Will you still love me when my hands have burned to dust
When history remains and old friends have long forgotten
Will you still love me when my hands have burned to dust
When the story ends will there still be a thought
Will you still love me when my hands have burned to dust