Rolling in my hands stuck
Underneath my toes;
Veins circumnavigating and
Living in a song
With seven little notes
That skip each fourth
Unnecessary beat,
For each my silver lockets
Clasp a different heart
Weighing like a baby dove
With a scream of this sunrise.
Tag: toe
Bouquet (day 2233)
As each toe touch shimmers gold and let’s horizon shine within
My breath becomes held so dear for I shan’t want to disturb
I see each leaflet of your hair lazing about so free
That my face can feel with each breeze the sensitivity of your back
And this my heart it lifts with ease as goosebumps do grow of
Upon just knowing how we share this stoop, and I privy to your thoughts
So deaf have I become of else walking upon our path
But in your hand you walk up from, a bouquet in your hand.
Not Tomorrow (day 2128)
You had a golden hour approaching
I wrote it down into my never ending
Then I sang a song that held each note too long
And dusted off each missing string.
Well and gone was each memory
Tucked into a case, sent off to sea
So my carved music making machine
Led me down the worst wrong street.
Oh you, you, you dug more sand to cover my toes
Coldness that I couldn’t attribute
Soaking bone my today castle
Over sunsets of towards a never end.
Floating (day 2119)
I couldn’t take you with me
I held you in my hand
What pleasure it was to experience
Then I floated off.
You had me in an ecstasy
A madness I held lightly
Tip toes and a high hat
Then I floated off.
Candlelight twisted my visage
Wine leaned me in
Footsteps echoed through the night
Then I floated off.
Dripping (day 1952)
In one breath I could fly
Let anchors drag deep
And mount mountains wildly,
Calling to twinkling stars
In my deepest yearning
To leave all mystery to me
To leave my unnerving heartbeats
Explosions in the sky
As a brocade of waterfalls
Dripping happily from my toes.
Much as Earth (day 1868)
Once there was another time
Where land was free as much as earth
There I had to choose my design
To which I fraught many days
A mind I cannot call my own
Sitting on another block of stone
Then again I’m not alone.
Once there was another time
Where I would walk so free
Hill and creek, valley and stream
Beneath and between my toes
Here and there was my desire
I’d harvest as I pleased
To where my heart would sit upon
A mossy bank of shade
Take the time to digest heat
And settle on a plan.
Into a Hole, A-ho (day 1745)
I wonder, pacing back and forth in the middle of light,
Is there something that’s become thus turbulent undertow?
Have I designed such fit for feet of strangers?
Long walks alone in a forest captures my heart,
Where has thy sweet sun crept away to? I ask in earnest to nodding nuances,
But no answers come back, though I implore twice for free.
Meanwhile slow approaching whisps sling past in a haze of unkempt mystery
Shrouded in man-made asphalt that collects at its side big puddles
For jumping.
And yet my friends among the silence who stand motionlessly absorbent
Carry weight of history so thickly my stomach begins to grumble,
My breath begins to abate me, and a slow tear finds its way into a hole.
So my wandering takes me back to a place I’ve always been
A question that’s never left the tips of my heart-hole that resists coldness
Keeping my toes so at night but warming my soul into abundantly undone.
Memories on the Wall (day 1624)
Smooth charcoal edges coated a tingling memory
That laid beside a warm body glowing.
It took foreign dust on antique chairs
And unraveled a long robe onto a cement floor
With cold toes and blue lips.
And at once, the abrupt end of this ceremony,
Captured by a small jagged and a little dot,
Returned to the inanimate wall
Struggling to stay awake.
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.
Love (day 1450)
Love are the whispers that ring in moments of now.
Love is the emptyness filling up an empty row.
Love is in footsteps: heel to toe, heel to toe.
Love is a memory as everything glows.
Love is a little bird whistling as it goes.
Love is a deep inhale, exhale, flow.
Love is inside like soil for to grow.
Love has two arms that dearly bestow.
Love sings a song of abundant jovial.
Love is inside, when all else returns.
