The Air Here (day 2354)

Air is warmer here
Among the banana trees
And broad leaves
It lays about you
In spots that used to stay warm.
There is no separation
Between warm and humid
There is no dry
There is just a light breeze
From a passing window
Watching traffic
With no repetition
Zip by
In varying degrees of exhaust
Hoping whatever it is that’s making
The breeze keep so friendly
Keeps doing its work.

Secretely (day 2349)

Secretly I whisper to the eyes that hold but little space for me
An awareness that belongs not to my soul of desire
But to a lost alarm clock beckoning for another hour
A window catches a blinking light somewhere in the horizon
While a cat sadly roams about the hall with a limp it cannot heal
Desolation is a lingering affair amidst night before’s busy streets
Where once fireworks begged for mercy in the air like dragons nightly play
So I shall talk at odd volumes to hear my voice again
Though no memory shall recall the words that secretly danced
Amidst uneven sidewalks of a forgotten despair.

Stay Here (day 2306)

I’m looking for an excuse to stay here
Left over piano tunes
Strolling the evening away
With leather soles and a warm glass of wine
Taking my time
Down the street of no convenience
Well past midnight
And the weather’s been fine
So I’ll stay out here
Walking this walk
And looking for deals in a dusty window
So I don’t have to stay here anymore.

Visions of Moonlight (day 2297)

I’ve been drawing raindrops
On the inside of my window
Watching the drips form castles
Majestically standing empty, barren,
Alone as Moon howls at midnight
Keeping gargoyles company
That eerily await guests
Who never warmly greet
Extended invitations
Hand written in blackletter.
But me, sitting side by side
Wrought iron window locks
Dreaming of daylight
In visions of moonlight,
I have lost all initiative
To compete with vines
Growing up the side of my body
So I slump into my sleep
Borrowed by the moon.

Window Speak (day 2255)

What borders your mind
Living inside windows
Waving at only full moons
From the bottom
Of a claw foot tub.
Does conscience
Grab your envelope
Of regret as a child grabs
A pumpkin to smash?
My Lilies have grown up
Convincing dilated pupils
Of a two for one deal
They cannot pass up,
But you don’t like purple hearts
You dive deep into paper cups
Shredding tomorrow
With dull plastic knives
And this is goodbye
From your window I’m waving.

Dusty Socks (day 2228)

Onward my heart
To the soaring distances I’ve been dreaming here of
To the leafless gaze
The toothless grin
A window frame caught amidst a midsummer storm.

And if fractions should call against pure chaos
That leave impressions upon my spine that bends over just so
Let the memory of what has always been past
Echo longingly into the recesses of my soul,
Let winds blow my hair around and into my eyes
So that my remaining senses cannot see, cannot hear, cannot feel,
But sing like the babbling brook
That chaos has dipped her toes into.

And here I will become
A saucer for sorrows over a campfire smouldering
A spirit stung with madness so crippling
This flag that has been chosen to fly
Shall linger softly
Like the ocean breeze that watches your excitement gather
Upon smooth rocks with dusty socks
And a sealion dipping below.

My Chin (day 2226)

A cheap drink rolled down my chin
As I lay motionless
Stuck in a window of thought
With a naked Lady hugging my shoulder
Purring softly with a story I’m not listening to.

My eyes remember a hot evening smell
Coming from the loins of love
When I licked what I wanted to
And kissed all the rest,
Passion I long ago learned to evoke
Just like my firm grip
Of the buttox of my lover.

Drawn back in with her heat, her arousal
By a finger drawing figures I’m left guessing about on my chest
I smell her hair, tucked beneath my chin
And remember the cigar I had smoked earlier
How it had lingered in my nostrils and danced with smoke
She looked at me and kissed the liquor from my chin
Whispering words I’ve love her for madly.

Window Drops (day 2171)

Along the ways of window drops
A bird flew out the nest
Cloud came to my very door
And my hair lay flattened down.
Yet every signal
East be at it’s back
Signaled me to rise above
What midnight I had not looked back.
Nor did my animosity
Rumble to a stop
A grinding halting dusty jalopy
My chariot of grim time.
True, each dirt splash lay bare
The deeper grit of sand
Which held my flower to my nose
Thus, bow down low I dearly bade.