Pull me apart with a thousand broken arrows
Tell me secrets of a far off and lonely maiden
Give me history we’ve never written down
And tear out my soul to feed wizards
That grant me three wishes that open realms
I fly to with all winds at my back
For future walks with thousands of bows
Bending under the pressures of love
Month: January 2013
Grandma’s House (day 596)
It’s those times as the sun is going down
When the blinds have been pulled for the night
And the water stops dripping off the roof
That we remember, and enjoy
Sitting next to Grandma, teaching her computer
And sipping on a new cup of tea
It’s these moments in life that we find peace
We sit down in a chair that is older than I am
And relax to the audible buzz from the furnace
The same furnace that blows cold air
Grandma is getting old these days
Though she still lives alone
Boiling her soups with lots of garlic
And a toaster that pops up four at a time
I remember when she first got that toaster
That sits next to the old high chair
I remembered as I reclined on the ol’ daybed earlier
I also noticed the intricate detail of the eavesdropping
A classical pattern, woven with a jigsaw
Clearly a tasteful choice by grandma
The sun is almost down now
I’ll be leaving soon enough
I can only hope for peace then
As I make the trek northward home
Winter Tree (day 595)
Deep Green
Cold white snow
Strong scent
Winter Wanderer Enthusiast of Cold Sports (day 594)
Deep within
The Christmas Bowls
A forest-scape awaits the searcher
White trees that bend
From the weight
Of two months
Windswept
Hard blown
Snow
Wind drifts
And little kickers
That come out of corners and grow
Are like playgrounds
For the winter wanderer
Enthusiast of
Cold sports
Warm mittens
Boards
Yes is the Answer (day 593)
Frustration and anger build up unexpectedly
Formulated from plans that run astray quite rapidly
If you think you’ve had it under some sort of control
You’re leaning on the wrong bush, my friend
But no, don’t take my warnings
Gloat in your power struggle for the weak minded
Take all apples and covet them now
Just watch as they turn rotten and spoil
Lessons learned come from saying yes more often
We learn from these moments great things of importance
Like the heights of buildings or secret lairs
Or even by bonding with humans of unprecedented intelligence
Listen to your instincts, let it guide you forth
Let it be your path to the future
It’s friendly, it’s nice. It’ll even hold your hand
It’ll keep you happy on those nights all alone
Believe me when I say that if you take on this day
With a pen and your mind and a smile
That without much delay, it’ll all come your way
And you’ll shine like the star that you are
If Would Play (day 592)
If there were stars that I looked upon daily
Would you flounder them into a field full of wheat?
If clouds floated hither, where you and I’d gather
Would the sun break them free from their plight?
If all the birds sang on from their high up perches
Would the music reach our ears as we strolled?
If the path at our feet turned from soft grass to dirt
Would we still walk hand in hand through the trees?
If I looked in your eyes and whispered into your ear
Would the stars keep us together every night?
Wide Eyed Tourist (day 591)
Memories crash through on waves hitting the shallow waters of coral reefs
Punishing the peaceful fish that make their way onward in search of food
Sun breaks into the galleries, reflecting wildly off these creatures close to the surface
Where the smiles and new haircuts wash away all that matters
Didn’t we love those diamonds we saw as we searched along the street
Where elephants roamed and wild doctors muttered to themselves
I’ve sat here before, a bottle in hand and the warm night’s breeze
Feeding my cool demeanor as I soothed the furrowed brow on a pretty girls face
We lost our way swimming in those warm shallow waters
Escaping away from the feeding sharks that lurk around the edges
Without a whimper, without the simplest of warning signs we all hope for to see
The waves came tumbling down filling the snorkel full and drowning the wide eyed tourist
Flow Within (day 590)
If I move aside
Will love swarm in
If I pull outwards
Will it flow within
Dangling roses in front of my nose
I stroke the wild beast with sharpened fangs
Laying beside heavens that rumble with rage
I watch the sunsets roll on in
In this space, it is whole
It is dark corners with sweet soul sounds
And polka dots that swell with pride
Slumbering around in a flowy night-robe
Winter Here (day 589)
Winter isn’t cold here
It’s like Sunday in front of the fire
Expensive liquor and
Love floating all around
Sounds breaking apart the mahogany
Dripping down the walls
And lifting up the edges
Of the well polished atmosphere
I’ve given in to the long coats
The ones with fur lining
My grandfather handed down
Brought from old Russia
In solid chests on the backs of horses
I’ve slumbered around with
Expensive cocktails with bow ties
Suspenders and alchemy dripping down the walls
A time of surreal magic
Pushing out between the breasts
Of well dressed ladies
I’ll take two for the road sir
Tuck them under my outstretched coattails
And push them down with essence
Tugging tightly at my cufflinks
Trail of broken hearts and glitter
Follows me out the back door into the evening air
Chocolate (day 588)
Chocolate spills off the edges of her mouth as if caught in the middle of some kind of erotic foreplay, struggling with the sloppy moments of recollections that pass through ones mind when stuck in a flashback.
Kisses blow around here, with their golden moments smothered in little murmurs and subtle tones of that which is familiar, or at least should be to those passionately inclined.
Pinstripes chalk the walls with character, allowing the vertically inclined to search the walls out in a practical dance that leaves them solving world mysteries that have been long forgotten or strewn aside as if left to the unexplainable.
Signatures full of rabbits come to life, animating this dreamspace with cuteness and emotion, my own hairline rolls and stretches in a sick game of character defining backgammon. This leaves me rolling the dice, asking the elders what their secrets are.
Idea. An idea. One idea reverberates off the walls, bending and warping the pinstripes and smudging the chocolate into the back pages of my conscience. I allow it to linger here while I hash out the logistics.
Booking the next plane ticket the action unfolds, the plan begins it’s course and the erotic foreplay dances it’s way into the shower to clean up its rep. It is now that the flashbacks come stronger as the future becomes clearer.