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.

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.

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.

Can Love (day 1611)

I don’t think I can love any other way
Then a heavy anchor tugging
Like window screen wipers
On at a very fast speed.
My storm is perfect and irregular
As its onslaught takes no prisoners
And leaves memories about my skin
Like thin veins navigating through
Lifelines of a thousand year old tree.
Some days I grasp like fallen soldiers
Stranded in limbo, crying out
The name signed with lipstick
Resting on a breast pocket postcard.
On other days, I recline in bliss
As a cackling fire warms my toes
And a pair of storyline mukluks
Bring me warm tea,
Reminding me of good choices I made.
I carry my tokens with me; inside.
I believe there should be no other way.
I believe that love supersedes
The cravings and doesn’t rely on
Place holders that distract real meaning
And distort intentions
In some silly ploy for attention
And a pitiful future
I will not dare seek to define.
I believe in redefinition absolutely,
But redefinition is never easy to agree with,
For the unsettling Demons, nay,
The unsettling Angels of my instinct
Carry with them a fire
That burns so dark in my soul
That I cry when they meet for tribunal.
I don’t think I can love any other way,
And no holiday nor any reward
Has ever shown me otherwise.