(re)born (day 2307)

This is my process and I’m not ok with it
I’m not swallowing it without a fight
Babbling long lines of dribble down my chin
With my wits left somewhere down the hall I’m not going back

Catch up to the statements
And leave some kind of order behind,
Stuffed in a shirt pocket that now sits
Bundled into a non-symmetrical clump.

“This is order?” I scream at the walls,
Figuratively clawing my way to the top of the jar;
Fingernails raw with contempt for sanity,
Chalk lines drawn with my saliva
In spirals that lead to nowhere
And a greasy smear on my chest that has been there
Since the day I was (re)born.

Your Histories (day 2286)

I can only hold my breath
As waves of anxiety pass through me
Butterflies emanate so powerfully
From my being
Sunshine becomes hard to see
I cannot count to ten or listen
I cannot comprehend noises
Conversation becomes lost
In an inaudible sea of thought
That has found me here
Floating around your island
Out beyond the breakers in the sea;
A picture on the wall
That leaves me awe-struck
Star struck, but not star-struck,
Star struck that makes me remember
Your kindness that laughed at me
Your eyes that watched with me
Your silence that became excited with me
And your being that is
A remarkable being
A being that should rest upon silk robes
Effortlessly moving through a sea of pillows
That supports your every wish
With decadence and consideration
And space that gives you time
To remember the histories
That you have always been,
And love that has never been forgotten
In a book written long ago
Bound with two ribbons:
One of forest green,
The other of gray.

Plaque (day 2202)

I’ve hung out all my rags
Run wild and free
I’ve searched the lands
And become cold
I’ve dipped my toes
Into the water
And felt my fingers freeze
Let them blue
And felt inside
A wind, forever blow
I’ve become undeniably
Focused as I path
Each and every lesson
That I cannot surpass
And to the claim
My name shall remain
A plaque set back upon the wall.

I Really Want To (day 2155)

I really want to
I really feel like finding the motivation inside,
To reach out and scream,
To run until my lungs are burning
And life’s pain ceases to hinder me.
I want to jump and swing
And yell like a charging elephant
With my eyes glaring down
Doers of injustice.
I want to slam my fists in to walls
And flip over tables that seem impossibly immobile
Tearing down pictures
Smashing plates and pottery.

I really feel like seeing red,
But then I remember how delicately precious
Life’s wings are
As I watch a bird fly by,
As I catch the sun setting
Leaving behind a gentle golden gradient
Filling my eyes and heart
Until my inhale matches my exhale
And my toes tingle happily at peace.

Purple Pants are Right (day 2066)

My purple pants have begun to stretch
Into what is now a rich, royal blue
My teeth, they chatter back and forth
But in this wisdom: nothing more
I propose to block these three freedoms
For they each halt my ability to capitalize
On what has always been naturally me
Now I shall usurp liberty
A statue shall fall to build a wall
And my money God, you shall learn to serve
Until too late, for the end is near
Though I shall not call all so dear
This is a game, rags and all
For my warriors shall build as I say
And my plans will overthrow each day
I will make all Right again
I will make all Great again.

Ceiling Lines (day 1627)

Lines upon my ceiling cause me great grief.
They are not parallel.
Their asymmetrical zig-zagging
Cover up cracks that look like
Two dimensional waves along a
Broken shoreline
Which leaves me guessing the next time
One of those waves will come
Crashing into my bedroom
As I stare up wondering the cause.
Some of the lines have even
Made their way down the wall,
Like an infection yet to be quelled,
Striking through the crown molding
And into the mauve like a sealion
At a pebbly beach in autumn.
So I close my eyes and focus on breath.

Grandfather’s Shop (day 1557)

A sentence was all I wrote
On a dusty pad of paper
Laying on the old workbench
Inside my late grandfather’s shop.
I knew he was still around there,
He spoke to me in hanging machine parts
Scattered about full walls.
Then I whispered goodnight
And turned down the lights
Making sure the heavy door
Was shut the way he’d shown me how.

The Wall (day 1456)

I lost that scope,
Whittled it down into spice and chutney
Grumbling with vengeance
To unresponding pebbles
While sculped demi-gods whispered
Into darkness and a masked Persian
Dangled scented indulgence
Over two freshly peeled cocktails.
I watched it float on,
Into the Wall.

When Out Walking (day 1327)

I woke up one morning
And all I could see was stars and flickering lights and little bits of human nature fluttering about the place,
Which is when I said to myself:
“Ned, you’ve made quite delight of this so far, you’ve had your way with a lot of things that have always kept your legs moving forward.
Do you know what time it is?”
Upon this thought I was forced to think for quite some time.
You see, I didn’t have a watch, and on account of the stars in the morning, I was already quite perplexed.
But someone came around at this time and motioned to the wall where there rested a round clock.
To which I was once again delighted in for I could tell time on these funny machines.
But my morning walk, which stretched on for a good number of hours, brought me to one sudden stop as I stared face to face with an angel who had come to hold my hand.
We didn’t dance, but we waltzed through the streets as we discussed what was on both our minds.
One thought after the other. One question after the other.
I returned home, but the lights had all been turned low. There were candles all around showing me peace and I stepped in.
And as I stepped in to a dream I knew and loved and had pushed away, I also stepped out of a unconsciousness I had been living under.
For today was no ordinary day,
Today is the day it all began.