For when I was a soldier
I stood here strong and brave
Cooled my hands with artillery
Fired into the sky
Lasers ate my memory
So fondness was my past
Peace was my marching orders
As death lay all around
Calmly I took each order
Followed to the mark
And every night I lay my head
Proudly I sang my song.
Tag: soldier
Trip Soldier (day 2678)
Whisper into decay
Follow that road
Grab on with all ten
And bring your soldier
Passionately abreast
For wind dies down
Sails drop slack
Winter comes
And logs burn out
Leaving that soldier
Wondering where
Time has gone
Lethargically trippin’.
Alone With Myself (day 2550)
I crawled with you into this hole
I left my shoes off
And stepped into the dirt
Clawing at the walls to reach my end
Like a dragon in a fairy tale
Taken down by our valiant soldier
And when I saw my deepest sunshine
I reflected on it’s darkness
An effervescence that made my lip twitch
Morphing into giants on the wall
Leaving me in my hole
Alone with myself
Cry as You Want (day 2503)
I have called out the ghosts of my wisdom
Lay them down upon the brow of my thought
Spoke to them like a soldier at his challenge
And a mother facing all of her fears
Cry as you want for the sun that has gone
But tomorrow it shall come again, my friend.
Bend around the world we cannot see
For it speaks to us subliminally
A coward backs away from what wants to consume
Stronger yet is that which stands up with a raised fist.
Cry as you want for the sun that has gone
But tomorrow it shall come again, my friend.
Drawstring (day 2293)
Sweet love and cold nights
Lay beside me tonight
Soldier in my history
Desperate goes the cannon
Leaves silence all around.
Hone in on coordinates
Draw triangles in the sky
Take apart an uncomfortable
Lesson: drawstring, button up.
As a Soldier (day 2248)
Here I am just as a soldier,
A rough and humble man;
Hairy and unkempt again.
Spent a year in training camp
Now I’m out here on the line,
Every night my rest’s a tent.
Wind keeps blowing me all over,
Stand to face pouring rain.
Friend you are and will always be –
One day may turn out just fine.
A lofty sunset we shall see
Watching gulls play the breeze.
With my heart I levy will
Faith forever you shall be
My guiding star, my dreams of free
My hope and evermore.
Free Man (day 2240)
I am letting go my reason
Turning open my vessel
My heart no longer caged
A soldier standing on the front line
Battle worn and still alive
Thriving in throngs of passion
Arrow plucked and bow taught
Whisper goes out to my gods
Eyes falling into ecstasy
Smiling with little worry
Reason blending into action
Stepping out a free man.
Golden Sun (day 2234)
Here I am upon the sea
Where two giants sit and wait
Singing songs to each their wave
In a shimmer upon the breeze
For with each breath they take
Comes a march of many soldiers
Attempting to take away their pleasure
Their big golden orb, the sun
But with each exhale their breath
Sent the suitors off again
Scampering along in madness
To find their legs upon the ground
So the giants sit still pondering
Each cloud that comes along
Wondering if it shall be
Married to the golden sun.
Eagle’s Low (day 2068)
My eagle has been flying low
A message near me now
Healing in my soldier row
Many years of rules below
Wings are taking me up slow
Up, up, flying low
I hear a cry upon ocean’s brow
Take me river, take me so
I’ll never be mother’s sorrow.
Down Turned Reverberations (day 1912)
You know, it’s ok.
It doesn’t matter that the sky seems to fall when you stretch your eyes wide at the beginning of a new day. It doesn’t matter that the tangle in your heart matches the tangle of your long, curly, brown hair drooping about your itchy nose as you fling from side to side with a worn out cactus shirt reaching down to the same legs you rest your morning coffee on.
I’ve found a reason that doesn’t rely on these silly momentary things. I’ve found the silk road, pock marked by moths with an unsettling history that left a lot of sad pages in the brown covered diary I’ve never re-read. I’ve begun to maneuver this silk pressing just as I would walking through busy streets or desert, dry mouthed and heart fleeting as beats reverberate off of every single thought.
It’s ok.
It’s a revolution that cannot get taken away, it’s the dull side of a newly sharpened axe. How many rows have you planted to become the star lit sky we all look up to; arms are better for hugging then the cold glass walls modern giants embed their soldiers within.
You’re not the only one with down turned memories of what we could never see, never hear, never even share from the distance we watch each other from – but our morning smells seem to remind us of nothing but the closeness we have; but evening silence is a feeling we so easily forgive.
It’s ok, and I’m never really very far.