Long Road (day 1501)

I feel I’m suffering alone.
I feel my eyes are closing off.
I think that there’s no way
I’ll live
To tell all of my stories
From this very long, long road.
Because it is a long, long road.

I had a hand in my own truth.
I had desire cutting deep.
I feel there was a moment
When all
I had to do was dream
Enter in this long, long road.
Because it is a long, long road.

I have never let go of emptiness.
I have held out my heart to sing out loud.
I had the chance to make
A life
With everything I dreamt
Along this very long, long road.
Because it is a long, long road.

I needed one too many paths.
I needed to let go of this I knew.
I have always believed
We are
Passionate indeed.
So we’re all a long, long road.
Because it is a long, long road.

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Sweet Aroma (day 1319)

Sweet romantic raindrops held out their hands
For my memories and heart splashes.
But I’ve already paid for the month,
I brought my warm sweater;
I’ve come for the show.

Two ladies danced into the night,
Slow waltzes around and around
As I sketched out the scene with dirty charcoal.
Hands in the air and sing out the song,
Pale spotlight in a smokey saloon.

Gaia’s Birth (day 1066)

And you crawl out
To where we sing.
To which we carry high
Lofty goals,
Lifting our honour
With romantically inclined love,
Like sweet mother Gaia
Discarding Winter’s white cloak
To dawn
Spring’s rainbow.

I cannot follow my empty thoughts
Through the havens of a darkened loft.
I live forever better
With your heart upon my hearth,
Warming every thought
As darknesses cold, cold moon
Falls asleep to Gaia’s waking sun;
Sweet nectar caress.
Alive like our emotion
Captured in long walks
Through Spring’s blooming alleys.
A landscape ere enliven.

Like sweet hanging fruit
– Summer’s lush temptation –
This lover’s ever clutch.
Anxious for turning seasons
As the fresh air soaks my dewy brow.
Can you not also give to great excitement?
I laugh and run wild a while,
For what is satisfaction
Void a lover’s yearning heart?
What worth is Summer
Dry from Spring’s never drought.

Swings (day 1057)

Because delicate sparks
Flew towards
The sor-cerers pot.
Can you sit
For a while
Just to
Sing me a song
Like there is love
All around
You’re in love
With a sound.
Through my heart
To the ground
Beautiful words
Swing around.

[and the soundtrack to the poem, on repeat if you wish]

They Have Got Me (day 1013)

I have got angels.
They dance around naked with long blonde locks
And sing amongst each other banging a drum.
Whenever I stand up to join the chorus
They stop and they wonder and stare at me lost;
It’s not a ‘what the hell is he doing’ stare,
But a ‘caught in the crossfire of beauty’ look.
They tell me my voice is why they stay
Dancing around here, naked as they play.
I have no reason to not believe my angels
For when I am lonely, they are my commitment.
They are what brushes past my face after tears flow,
They are what flickers in my early morning eyes,
They are the cinnamon spicing my sauce,
They are what smooths my sleepy brow out.
My angels cannot do me wrong.
No matter what song perches about their supple lips,
Their fingers dance nimbly through the air.
When they dream of things I cannot yet see,
Their drum echoes through my heart
And I imagine that I can indeed see their spells,
– Woven upon me so tight –
And I hear even in daylight they’re not far away.
When I begin dancing, when I share their dream,
I know I have got angels, and they have got me.

Thee Traitors Guilt (day 770)

If I should sing to let it out,
Let mine heart come before my throat.
Should I to throw it all away,
My guard so closely held to me,
So tight thy clutches keep it by,
That even I can scarcely cry.
It fills the rivers, flowing high,
With demands; spent at last.
Where should I take to plan again?
If never again to hold thy hand.
But my sorrow does not weigh thy down,
It chases thy mind, late at night.
Curling it’s distant cries tightly
Around mine enemies to bring them near.
For you have neigh been gently to
The brow of which is mine to frow.
Like dandelions reach’d a state decay’d,
A tiny orb of gone with the wind,
Gently swaying to and fro
In the cool mornings dewy glow.
For now thy knoweth why
I sigh into the songs I sing,
Why I shall carry upon my back
This choice of burden, this gunny sack.
It holds the damage done afore,
It bleeds the blood that once before
Bled about my conscious’s sleeve.
But swept away like wind that’s come,
It’s found it’s way: burden upon my back.
For when I speak to hear mine words,
What beckons my mane to question thus,
Are simple words, beseeching thy:
If not for I, whatever for, dear?
For if not for I then what is left?
Surely there must be something abreast.
If not for me, what good is thee?
Have I becometh thee traitor’s guilt?
Have I been loved by an unformidable cloak?
Damaged doth my thoughts become,
Left to stew about in gloom.
So out! Be gone with it then!
Let love be gone, at once have truth,
Make speed to return here once more again.
For I shall find in my path tomorrow,
A heart that fills my heart still more.
So let it end, this ghastly sorrow.
Be off with it then, gone in the wind.