Future (day 2323)

Where is our future
If the youth of today
Are a timelines status
And a programmed computer
Our workforce
Where will we be when
Our ten thousand followers
Gobble our every word?
Motivation for their lives?
Where is our future
If even our leaders
Cannot speak words of truth
Do not display ethics
Ten thousand people should hold?
When do we realize
We are not in control?
When we are no longer listening
To our inner wisdom?
Instead, steadfast and determined
To follow the voice
Of this flickering display.

My Hearth (day 2301)

I will sweep the floors of my hearth
And I will stand up against the wind
I will call out in response
To endless tests of Zeus
I will raise my voice at oppressors
Fighting for the oppressed
I will look into the eyes
Of ten thousand hungry demons
And breathe my fire back
Into visions of my birth
So I can continue my journey
Into the heart of my vision
And build the fire within my hearth.

You Used To (day 2063)

When you used to sing me songs
I was James Dean and you were love
And wind flowed through our hair
Past a highway sign that read: ‘see ya later’.

When you used to run your hand
Across the front summertime chest
I’d look you up and down
Until we’d both run all round.

When you called me that last time
I was a million miles away
There was static playing on every line
And my voice was in a tin can.

Now, when you come to my mind
You’ve still got those wild daises in your hand
Your smile is the size of the sun
Where we’ve both just begun.

My Sweet Game (day 1950)

Remind me of the garden I’ve floated in
Tea you used to share
Your laugh to my sweet game

With history on our steppe
I could mark every book full of stars
And still your voice through halls of love

Let me lose years since it’s been
So much to wish and to share
Let us find two handsome garden chairs

As dead leaves fall Autumn around
My heart pulls home warm cups of tea
And family speaks free in your hair

My Sweet Game by Ned Tobin

And Tender So (day 1913)

Flourish
And fall like the rest of us;
Autumn my heart can never bear.
And sing it out to me
Steal it from the depths
I’ve covered up and closed.
Be the curling leaf
Upon which my gaze can never leave,
Listen intently
To the voice I never gave
Rumbling rumbling rumbling
Rain that never came
And tender so:
Frosting of my heart.

And Tender So by Ned Tobin

Dry (day 1891)

Rain, an unending apathy
Soaking away my desire
Feeding my inward voice
To a soothing fire
Of warm socks and books
To take all thoughts
Bundled away by leather strap
Into a tent listlessly blowing,
Heaving and relenting
For a softer night dry.

This Shall Be the One (day 1883)

In all the battles I seek to shine
This shall be the one
This shall take my hand and glow
This shall be the one

In every corner I stare upon
This shall sway my voice
This shall be my saving grace
This shall sway my voice

In all the windows I look out from
This shall find my sun
This shall be my simple tree
This shall find my sun

News (day 1839)

I asked you in an earnest voice
If the weather had been nice –
A windowless entrance into your mind
A sunset in the sky.
And your sunglasses gave you away
On this sunny side of our street
Where I ventured just one other guess
As to where your lover had been lately.
To which you looked the other way
And left me holding onto your
Glass purse now splayed on the floor.
A prison I could only guess,
As I collected quite the mess
In shadows and eye liner pens.
So I turned back into my coffee
That was more straight then you did seem
To let her cursing steam away
And the news was getting cold.

News by Ned Tobin

That Fun (day 1582)

“I’m not that fun”
Said the crescent moon
That wept loudly
Amidst autumn’s leaves
Spread carelessly perfect
On an empty yard
Sitting aimlessly awkward
With such high hopes.
And then thy heart stripped.
Forsooth, a voice sounded;
To gasp, even just for a brief moment
The complexities no shadows
Could reveal.