Lost in the Cycle (day 174)

Abuse me, like a well worn sweater
Worn down from the gravity of time
Warmed over from a cold wind
Fall leaves, slowly spinning
Downward, with the passage of time
Upwards with the momentum of life
Through, within, alive, growth

We live in blissed blasphemy
Secretly kissing the angels
Of the memories we once longed for
To late, time doesn’t wait
Downward, downward, downward they fall
Screaming for glory, one last moment
Alive, grasping, dead, cycle

Moment of Truth (day 172)

I made a decision
That decision was easy
It was a choice on a matter
Of whether or not
To allow me a luxury
So simple and trite
Inside it is truth
Inside it is me

It radiates outwards
Like the new day’s sunshine
It warms up the heart
Like fire in the hearth
It came to me today
In a moment of truth
To smile for a while
And smile I did do

And I Shall Head Home (day 170)

Reason comes to the surface like an infected pond
Suffocating the life out of dreams and hope
But that’s ok, it’s just a small pond in the circle of life
Bigger fish will come from different ponds

The memory, however, shall remain constant forever
The fun times afloat our two-seater
Rowing slowly around the familiar banks of destiny
Wearing in the good spots of weathered wear

The boat it can sink, but I surely can swim
The fish it can run, but I surely can reel
The oars they can break, but surely I can then kick
But if, upon the banks where I stand
I should see such a torment dark seas that do bring
I shall pack up my oils, wear my wellingtons proudly
And head home, till the banks they do clear

Unfinished Business (day 168)

I remember
I hold
I used to sing late at night
I used to hold memories as if they could comfort me

Now I keep telling myself
Whats been has been
No need to forget just move on
No need to wallow just move on
No need to listen just believe

The pieces that once were
Never were

The pieces that have hit the floor
Were never me

Out of The Cold (day 167)

Abound with joy she zipped up her pants
Wrapped the scarf one more time around
Before she braved the cold wall facing her

She stepped out the door into the brisk air
Cooly calm after the night whirled in her head
Like a heart worn, still spinning top

Anticipation in waiting, like the empty bowl
Full of surprises but still quite unready to expose
The vampires call now, late in the night

The steps jump faster, as joints stiffen against the cold
The bus .does. .not. .ever. come quick enough
Fucking transit, mumbled under her breath

As a lady, she smiles, ignoring the smirks
As a temptress she squirms, applauding the smiles
Alone she hurries, out of the cold

Eternal Industrialist Battle (day 165)

~ in struts the guardian ~

Work your tired little fingers
You ungrateful minions
We pay you not good enough
We demand the most of your work
And rarely applaud your efforts

But dammit! Do more work!
You’re not even sweating
And the look on your face
Doesn’t really portray the size
Of the mound I just dumped on your desk

Please, make sure this problem is eliminated
You rather hopeless child
I’m not sure I can look at you
As you sit there in your hallow
For god sakes, liven things up around here!

~ and out comes the demon ~

I sit here quietly
Constantly assuring
These working conditions
Will for-surely be changed
I dream of masochism
Or voodoo tactics
Going AWOL on this monitor
Blinking as rapidly as your ideas change
Morphing my own ideas
Into schemes of your own
Taking all our own
Efforts for granted
Feeling no guilt
At the abuse of your power
You won’t last long, asshole
At the rate you’re going.

~ silence, carry on ~