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

End of the World (day 484)

Love crashes around the lover like a rock filled land
Eerily perched above on the cleft like a bird for prey
Scented with waves, crushed roses, and dead rocks
Even the little flowers that love to live between the edges
Are void of all life, wilted and dead lying on the rocks

This is the end of the world
This is where no man roams
Not even the ugly wenches
Or the moody trolls cursing
Grace this spit with life

Not With Me Today (day 483)

Allow me to not be here today
Away from my hearts delight
Of all the sores upon my feet
They do not beat the plight
My heart does yearn for
In this distance
That has brought
You away from me

For though my mind
Be racked; confused
There are few things I know
One of which that tugs at me
Conflicts not my thoughts at all
Is of a girl
None too tall
Beauty beyond them all

It’s not far from here
Where she lives
A small stones throw away to be sure
It is hard to say at current rate
How long I’ll be away
That doesn’t matter
My memory is short
And not with me today

Trod (day 482)

It seems like Ive been wandering
Through towns that make no sense to me
But the names come and go by quick
As the time does pass my way
But here and there I meet a face
Who calls at my soul to clear
And then in my time I shout and laugh
With a man who has shared his food with thine
While quickly as I trod about here and there
I find out the neighborhoods that do call my name
I know what does interest such a soul as thee
To capture my imagination for future plans
But the strangest of things happen when out all alone
When I’m much to far past the places I know
A certain force does take over, a whim and a will
Something that leads me on forth
And with this dear force that bites at my heels
I do not tarry long at much distress
For all that I see, and all that does come
Makes my mind at ease as I trod

They’d Moan (day 481)

There was a door that creaked as it was stealthily opened that gave him away every time
It wasn’t as if they minded, they both smiled to themselves as they knew what it meant
Love, so they thought, was at work in the house so they let it continue in its name
She said she was 23, he knew she was 22. He didn’t lie with his 25
It’s funny how age becomes less and less relevant as the days whisper on by
The bed could fit them both, it was a nice feeling with the warmth of each others skin pressing down on their sleepy whispers
Loose bed sheets that wrinkled at the foot of the bed would never be needed in passion
There was a point in the passion where both of the lovers would pause
Where they would both crawl over towards each other and look into their eyes and still be sitting there in their underwear
This was passion, fueled by desire, that would rupture where they stood and teased
It was fun at any rate, to slowly take off each others small things and reveal something secret and intimate
Skin that was smooth, and delicate clipping, and eyes that crawled more than a spider with a smile
More and then less, and more and then less was a game that was exciting to play
A game that would take the both of them longer and hopefully both of them higher than before
Did they lose touch just then, when the passion was within, or was it lost to them a long time ago?
But they embraced each other, nipple against nipple, and turned up the heat in the room
They’d call and they’d moan, and they’d let out a groan, and they’d pull at the hair on the back of the neck
They’d flip and they’d roll, and they’d stop and they’d call, and they’d make it all matched in their body
And the race was on for eruptions song, dancing a dance where two can play and the best of the days is when it grooves
Take all that away in a moments display, in a push for the top of the rafters
Then draining away that marvelous display comes a time for bliss like a setting sun in the arms of a lover
And a kiss, a kiss on the forehead, wet with excitement and no delay and breath that enjoys how fast it does roll
A little fun at the toes as the sheets that have stowed are un-tangled and used as a cover for the flesh
Legs that are near reach around and pull close with emotion set fit for the time
With low murmurs that roll through the waves in a friendly waltz the night slowly takes control of the two lovers until movement no longer becomes conscious

Lessons From A Dock (day 480)

In all the searching of the world
Be honest with your soul
Let the cool countenance
Of the end
Smooth your hearts desires

In all the roads that lead astray
Follow the path least traveled
Make the route that you take
On and away
The route that cheers your heart

Of all the steps that you take
Make the next one always count
Allow the guise of winter’s clarity
Deep in frost
Be far away from thine bane

In all the waters that clean your mood
Away be thy dust and grime
Mind the skin that soaks within
On the thumb
Be a warning of what is too long

Don’t Cry Father (day 479)

Without words there are no places to fit between the spaces that occupy the recesses of this lucid destined body
The examples of torture don’t phase thine countenance for they wreak not havoc upon the brain
Sure, in the sweet of night nestled amongst the cute lovers sleeps a sound, resolute companion
But the sounds that spread outward from the turmoil keeps even the lifeless awake at night
Perhaps it’s the bitter truth that doesn’t comply with the answers that have fallen into the cracks
The same cracks which have begun to play upon the misfortune that crawls out of the drainage pipes that lay rusting
Lack of use caresses even the sweet droplets of dust that dance around every corner of the damage
Don’t cry my dear mother, the day had to come eventually even if we wanted to abandon all that stinks of the truth
Don’t cry my dear lover who swirls around the nights thoughts with a magic only fitting for a witch
Don’t cry father, sent away is the bitterness that never had a safe storage space in your towering cabinets of force
And onwards and upwards the sands spin and roll and create new spaces in the holes that have been abandoned
Despise the coward who among all whispers and shouts at the same two demons, unable to answer his own requests
Rest now, in this sweet night that nestles itself amongst the cold flaps of a long draped winter jacket
Rest dear lover on the sweet thought that one more day shall come where only the good times will pass by your mind
Fear not the answers you have known the whole time

Footsteps (day 478)

There is no me
There is no personality
There is only little wisps of light smoke
That wander through my bones

There is no answer
There is no right
There is only footsteps pounding along ahead
That drive the future into present

There is no one
There is no indication
There is only strangling thoughts
That push away forever today

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

Rivers Edge (day 476)

Camping along the rivers banks here allows my stars to shine like they have been powered from an altruistic source ready for the dreams that spend their life projecting

The crickets and frogs that enliven my ears with a symphony of random harmony makes the words learned have neither meaning nor maestro, water trickles by ceaselessly

With the cool breeze of the grass that robs my still thoughts of all of their listlessness, fighting the wee little shivers that invite the goosebumps to pour sexual droplets of romance over my body

It is here that there is no need for per-conceived notions of what is and what shall come to pass, Here is the land for dreams and dreams and dreams and more dreams

Do you know this? Do you understand the power in the stars up above on a clear evenings shine as you lie amongst the longer wisps of grass that share soil with wild flowers?