Spoons of Sorrow (day 1959)

When I walk into an empty room
When I reach my palms for the sky
As essence, I’m a ghost
And sunrise brings tomorrow
With ten thousand spoons of sorrow.

I am a prophet in a rose
With two hands tied by thorns,
Fence posts painted white
Along dew kissed morning lawns.

When I sit amidst thousand year old trees
When I wave crookedly in heaven’s winds
My heart becomes a dead leaf
Integrating so effortlessly into a path
Dust to soil to earth to spring.

So long shall my stalk bend
Two ends of a hemp string crossed,
Seeds falling on gray wood
And harvest moon is my birth.

Into Light (day 1443)

So long to a once was land;
Wings of an unscented angel
Wandering like a
Sleepy Sunday robe.
And I am a rose,
Twisted pedals and tall,
Chasing after the raven –
People’s strongest burden.
We never had sadness
Till a promise was made,
A gift of ill-fortune
Saddened thorns in our side.
Join me till I’m fortune unmade,
Where I can feel better
In a long line of stardust
That take hallows like
Delicately dropping blossoms;
Piano lightly touched
Into silence.
Ascending again into light.

Thorn (day 1261)

I once laid my eyes upon
An autumn so yellow and red,
That spoke to me of Monarchy;
The golden days of ol’.
Here I tarried a while
Pondering on the past,
Only to find, as I divined,
I had been transformed into a lord
Who had about, in glorious splendor,
A thousand man devoted train.
But to my alarm,
And quite disarming,
I hadn’t a desire to call mine own.
So my yawn was feigned,
My brow was fanned,
And of my rose was left a thorn.

Dropped from a Thorn (day 941)

How do you love without losing
Without spreading open hearts and tears
Like eyes closing, it’s ending in silence
And personal crushing sinks in

But I, the monster, sinking it in
Scream out like bats whipping through night air
A full moon lurks beyond vision
Unknown and omnipresent; thoughts and sight

Writing my love letters
With blood dropped from a thorn
Splattering into a vial
Collected for these poems

I do not remember or recall
Or recede into a sheltered abyss
I do not wash my skin clean
But I am purity, spread open and sheen

Vancouver (day 932)

This city is turning into a love affair
Vancouver, saturated still pullin’ for more
Romance so deep it cuts as the thorn sews
Addictive in the Audrey Hepburn
Black and white kind of way
As if every breath I take leaves trails
Tracing my journey from lover’s edge to lover’s gaze
Big obscene button’ed-up and felted with a liner
Concealing secret pockets holding prohibition’s decision
With unnecessarily charming courtesy
Waiting around the thick-rimmed leather-soled sidewalk corners
As if I should recognize you
I should know that warm gaze and coy smile
Playing with my fancy as I bow
Making my way forth
Arm in arm with another happy day I’ll write home about
Chronicling my romantic love affair
With this lovely city, Vancouver