Silently Quiet (day 714)

It’s quiet in here
If you’re ignoring the voices
Screaming back at me
Inside my head

I can hear the dull tones
From the black box next to me
Spinning around methodically
While I go about my work

Wind blows through trees
Shimmering with a gentle sway
But that’s outside
Beyond the confines of a window

Entrapped, the house is still
Drooping plants are silently
Calling out to me
For just a splash more of water

My typing makes noises
But that sound dies
When I take moments to think
Jumping deeper inside my head

Paintings hang with memories
Time faded memories
But the image: unwaveringly visible
Clearly pulls on my thoughts

Fruits in the silver bowl
Work hardest at these times
Heat of day and sunlight curing
Hardness and tart green

The refrigerator will kick on
Every now and then
To remind me of lunch to come
Scraps of what is now left over

While I wait here
Looking at my reflection
Silently shining back at me
Curious smeared everywhere

The Wind (day 573)

You couldn’t walk away just like that; wind blowing your hair in a careless manner leaving eyes dropping memories one at a time
Yet, with the legends that crop out the clouded sky into dreams that come forward with just the right light

I have become another human
I have become the epitome of graceful
I have become the master of disguises
I have leaned so far out the window that my hat and glasses have blown off in a whirl of excitement and confusion

And I have died a thousand times

Died with the madness that grows in the spring time
Died with the emptiness of an ending shower
Died with the footprints that don’t stop in a new winter’s flurry

Meanwhile, as the sheets get unfolded and spread upon the queen sized bed
A stranger in the twilight rests his eyes upon what walks away: a heart of the softest kind with the sweetest smile and dearest eyes

I mind the rocky paths and step lightly to that path which softens under foot, void of all jetty rocks that perturb my conscience with evil glances and a mean demeanor
I reminisce about the legends I’ve read about, chest held high, knees stepping lightly over the path ahead
And I feel my own hair blowing in the wind as I reach further and further into freedom and dreams

Ignoring the possibility that these snowy tracks will be forever gone if we lose the fingertips we embrace with love

Leaving behind a single memory, fluttering like a broken heart
In a graceful dance
From the confines of my soul
Through my heavy eyes
And into the wind

Winters Walk (day 537)

Cold winter’s setting in
Nights that bite, winds that snap
And an old dog that’s looking good
With a shiny coat thick and black
Friendly vigor as he rolls around the familiar path

Mismatched mitts, a warm winters tuke
And a scarf that wraps right around twice
M’neck’s nice and warm
My nose’s running fast
While my feet carry me home from a walk

Pull Yourself Together, Man (day 509)

Pulled apart by the systematic changes dropping down upon my tattered shoes that I’ve left long ago at a doorstep, never to return to. But oh, so lonely the walks have begun to become without the trendy flash flickering it’s way through the eyes of all the girls that dress in fur coats and hot sunglasses. Don’t destroy the value lines hidden beneath the coating of champion sauce. Don’t wash off that layer of adolescent desire like a grimy layer of sweat… It’s hard work!. I’ll be happy taking the easy road from here on out without the sanded streets killing my rust, man.

Take leave. Take the bust game and bat that sand bag into the earth’s green green grass. Take the short stick and walk with a wobble. Leave the bag of empty tricks alone and forget your wineskin on the counter in a house you’ll never return to.

Foreign music cursing through my veins alone on this park bench. The night that knows my name whistles through the trees with high contrast and annoying light flirts. But the howling wind lets my hair play an un-titled orchestra with pipes that haven’t yet been replaced for the newer, electric type. Oh, you thought we’d be upgrading did you?

Long lists of grocery bills folded into uncanny piles of forgotten trash leaving customary hand-swipes along the cheap bedroom furniture that just feels like it’s wrong. These same receipts that bought me happiness and bought me bitterness and bought me bills that make my pants heavy in the crotch with depression and soaking rage against this onslaught of commercial advertisements bombarding my sensories like a blossoming orgasm that’s been building for the past 5 months.

Greed seeping in like a like button on a risque photo with blurred out nipples. Danger alerts the drug addicts that wait along the edge of the street hoping for new hits but fearing the police that roam around the corners of the danger district. Hookers down the alleys pissing in paper bags and smiling with missing tooth grins, black eyes, and a faces that’ve been turned into a potato bags. Long sacks and cold nights and wet hair and shaggy beards and pants hovering around ankles with flaps of skin showing from places nobody wanted to see today.

When did you last shower?

Southern States (day 508)

All too drearily I drag my heels across the torn leaves turning wooden colors
A light evenings sprinkling has left that wooooooshhhhh feeling in the air
Smells trying it’s best to pick my head up
But the wind is winning that battle as it charges through my vein
I’m thinking about the things I gotta do
Getting a sudden understanding that it’s been done before
I’m not walking original streets anymore
I’m a two bit pony at the stallion races
Diners and hip fashions line these streets with eager faces laughing out loud
It’s an optimistic buzz that I’ve missed sailing
It’s the flight south and I’ve been caught chilling

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see an oasis
A spot in the middle of this barren land that’s calling my name loud
Like the 4th of July in the Southern states: IT’S SCREAMING
So I check myself and take a tug on my cuffs
I know this is going to take a while

Say Them Straight (day 485)

You do not understand the things that I say
Because I simply don’t just say them straight
I give stories that, in my mind make
All questions fade away

Perhaps I should know better than to head this way
From the path you’ve chosen and molded
But from this route, we’ve had some fun
We’ve fooled ourselves by some

That’s ok because the trees still shake
They weave and bend in the wind
So then will the chance we’ve had
As all things will come and go again

This still does not make the wrong been done
Any easier on my mind
It doesn’t let me walk straight home
It keeps me tarrying along the gallows end
Not just yet at any rate, anyhow

Rocky Sea Shores (day 477)

Into the ocean I stare away my dreams
Focusing on the repetitive nature of the natural beast
Watching the sparkles come and go
As the waves wash up and beat to and fro
Natural mystics carry dreams afar
Wishes and hopes that float on the wind

Did we walk long enough into the distance yet
Perhaps we can carry on, to find a nice spot

Mermaids walking that keep time with the wind
Hair flowing as the wind whips from all sides
Little rocks to hop on, a little sun bathe on
Happy memories for the young maidens in a foreign land

Earth in A Lover (day 440)

Stars stretch from the middle of undying hands of a lover
Crisp and bright and forever in my eyes until tomorrow
The day that never arrives, that holds fast in the horizon
One moment at which is always averted with longing eyes

Starting with scraps of freshly cut hearts laid smooth
The outside pieces of a perfectly carved out heart
Three spots of glue to forget the damage done
Pages that now have the attention cold hands didn’t have

Tugging slowly at papers
Falling
Wind
We return
It is earth

The Old Oak (day 430)

The old oak seems to enjoy the light breeze
As I do, flapping in the wind
Waving it’s leaves to and fro, light and dark
No ending, no until
Battling the waves in its eternal onslaught
And every single day
Each one in the cold or warm
Night and day
There is always a smile spread
Thickly across the countenance
Of the old oak