When the wind blew at my door
There I was standing tall
I saw the drifts of snow gather
I heard the poplars clack together
And deep within my cooling heart
I heard a groan so vivid
It symbolized the burden laid
At the foot of my days toil
It symbolized ice cold water
Gathered at the stream
And every step upon
Frozen soil with a cold shovel
It symbolized the sweat that broke
Each sinew in my back
To which I closed my eyes tightly
Forehead resting on the window
Wind blowing at my door
Tag: shovel
Unwanted (day 2673)
Backsplashes of humanity
Claim our paths;
We dictate the channel
But they: the message.
We drive their inventions forth,
Their shovels we work
Their dynamite blows up
What we never knew we didn’t want
And our earth
Becomes circumnavigated
With their asphalt
That inevitably cracks
Exposing all truths
That we’ve all chosen
To drive over.
But where does motivation arise?
How do we drag out
Our revolution machines
To fight each sublimality?
We wake at the crack of dawn
And march.
Should you sleep in,
Ahould you wish for warmer weather
Or a less hostile arousal,
Should you demand more luxury
In the face of destruction,
Well, for you in your warm socks
And pillowed existence
For you
The revolution shall end your pain.
Bows (day 2484)
I’ve come along for the magic of night
Singing to my reflection ahead
Eyes wide open I’m inside myself
Forgetting all the bows I tied
While waiting by your side
A test I left unwritten, un-scribed
For distractions had taken the best of me
Towards an un-planted tree
Soil so deep I lost my shovel
And turned my soil to better ground
To grow the bio I dream of
Where magic of night shall leave behind
A day to open me up wide
Shovels and Boots (day 1930)
When green leaves turn to brown
And fungus smells all around
There’s going to be a harvest soon
Shovels and two pairs of boots.
When gourds make farmer’s fields
Polka dots and ferris wheels
Big moon’s on the rise
Shovels and two pairs of boots.
When the deepest lake’s turning cold
And chairs are folding up
Cider’s laid to rest
Shovels and two pairs of boots.
Shack in the Mountains (day 1723)
Left my heart up in the mountains
I’ll need a shovel to get it back
One too many lonely days
Without a warm gunnysack.
Had a song bird on my deck
Whistling a tune I’d never heard
Sent for a fine six string guitar
Came back with an ol’ banjo.
Went off in the meadow with my lover
She had on a little backpack
Got stuck in a swamp with little booties on
Came out with her bare feet black.
Oh, troubles around every corner
Whether you’re looking back or not
Creek still runs, dog still laps
And I’ve gone back to my lonely shack.
Unmanned Headlights (day 1187)
Tunnel down this deep dark hole
With an un-handled shovel;
Unmanned I’m blinking headlights.
I lost mine up to my knees;
Life and dirt is blowin me.
Change is seasons we cannot see.
Two dollar bills and my coffee’s cold.
Dusty love-note’s fading mind,
It’s a dusty love-note’s dying time.
I’ve got a spotlight memory,
Driven by a crazy dream.
Unmanned headlights flickering.