Tag: thousand

More or Less (day 1636)

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Listening to me. Listening to feelings transpose into logic at a thousand frames per second. Listening to a new widow sigh on a train into dark night.

With your help I have gone a step beyond. An echo off in the distance as a bat flaps it’s wings in pure silence. But my heartbeat has become deafening, your pulse as elixir.

Listening to me delicately tap echoing waves into a silent-still pond, fireflies becoming breath upon my eyes here aglow. And a memory, just like you said: life is not more less.

Valiant Horses (day 1609)

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Without a lying centaur
There is hardly room for flight,
Hardly time to come around
Into the battle ground

Without a thousand windowsills
Fighting to see the light,
I’d never be able to win a lady
Like eyes of my dear Queen Night.

Without a legend to run away
Into the darkest fight,
What good would valiant horses have
If days were love and gait.

Without a trail of mystery
What good would bows and arrows be?
If animals had thicker skin;
My time is coming in.

Crispy Wallows (day 1593)

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Crispy wallows and snakes following ancient trails down spirals, leading only to a perfectly spherical, blood-moon-packed dirt bubble where one thousand and one perpendicular lines scarred concave smoothness, remarkably resembling an eerie odessical scene of Labyrinth, David Lynch infused simplicity and snakes. With an omnipresent light leaving no shadows, even in such depths, that echoed with every heartbeat snaking it’s way downward, downward, downward until the downward was no longer downward but stuck in a simple sphere, simply circled as if snakes and ladders were suddenly trapped in an empty crystal ball bubbling with misunderstood and toppled (read:shook) reason that inhabitants were too impatient to digest, leaving perpendicular marks in frightened terror as retraced steps traced their snaking along ancient trails back into the under-root of an atmospheric tragedy they had become familiar with and called home.

Yellow (day 1570)

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Shake your hands little man
Rumble rumble rumble.
Shock proof and submerged
I’ve become a yellow alien
Lost in a foreign land.

Shake it in a glass pint of feel good yellow
Until it hurts so hard nutshell
There begins quite a rumble.
Put your guns outside now,
The blood is run down.

Bitter is the agent of change;
A sour heart upon edges of my spine.
My yellow in the midst of your confusion.
An iron, coyly, in a state of disconnect
And my flattening ceases, rumble rumble.

I hope you found the keys –
Open sitting etched wooden door.
Explanations come out
Flight from a thousand monarch butterflies
In a thousand shades of yellow.

Sewn With My Name (day 1285)

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When you whisper my name a thousand miles away
A little fairy floats from you on to me
With a gift wrapped in satin, sewn with my name.

Moments keep building through conquest and torture,
With every gamble perching icicles upon our brows
That tickle and fancy and etch out our fate.

My deepened breath at the sight of your fairy
Keep me awake, for no thought should go wasted;
No lingering memory or heart pitter-patter missed.

Just like my serpent, I’m alive with no name,
All else flickers and slithers; lost into bane.
‘Goes here with my fairy, a thousand miles away.