Future’s Untold (day 645)

Racing through pages
For times and places
Dates and messages
Is history all told

Uncovered and browsed
Traced and recorded
Deciphered and captured
Printed into books

Pages build pages
Names: stepping stones
Discovering, unsettling
Informing and growing

This is the past
Historical highway
Information abundant
Future’s untold

Touch (day 644)

When I touch you, baby
And all I feel is goosebumps
When we slow roll down
To your back and my weight
I see it with fuel in your eyes

When the light is turned down low, baby
I hear you, softly and smoothly
Whispering tones we’ve come to know
Hear me as I kiss trails down your neck
Where I feel earthquakes within your soul

And when passion grabs hold of your hips, baby
Fills you up to heights untold
Scream out; let surrender take control;
Snarl and arc and grip me leaving
Memories in claw marks over my skin

Inside of There (day 643)

I see wizards
With hazardous potions
I see angels
To mindless pebbles
And rustling up darkness
Digging deep down inside
Like leather bound bikers
Full of anger
Peddling motionless
Save small nods of the head

I see guard dogs
To harvesting trees
I see trimmed hedges
Like lingering strangers
Passing through the darkness
That creeps along
The side of the house
Brightly coloured daisies

I see chains
Back and forth and stairs
I see widows
Standing in the doorway
Holding a straw broom
Blue and white checkered apron
And a tight bun
Holding in gray
And many years of
Deep isolation

Run Like Thee (day 641)

Listen locked up troubadour
I’ve had just about enough from you
Flat tones with hardly any decibel
What part of the unwritten story
Didn’t you read?
Weren’t you just a little bit stunned
When the little Draculas
Began roaming these cliffs
On the cold nights
The windy nights
Where out in the distances
Witches are heard
Cooking up their recipe
Madness with glee
Forever is the preciousness
Longing is the game
Put forth a valiant effort
And you shall not run like thee
You see
Troubadours and lab technicians
All united; a singular cause
Pulled into the parking lot
Brushed away the wild sea
Battled the neckerswaps
And unscrewed the top
Crossed the great yellow barrier
By walking in through that door
The market was ahead of them
It awaited there lovely wallets
Where they stared in all it’s preciousness
In glitter and in shine
And you shall not run like thee
You see
Pulling away from the parking lots
Mad hatters and tea sets
Blinded by ammunition
The Troubadour and his silent friend
Set out for sea
Bleeding through darkness
Into night
Peddling for fire starter
Drinking whiskey for the cold
Laughing at all glorious things
As wheels of giant steel spun
You shall not run like thee
You see
Past moons and past reefs
The cold sea lay in splashing
Madness settled over mortals
Hell welcomed in
Demons and rat infested decks
Lay crawling amongst eyes of stranded
Bitterly washing away stains
Laid down by the blood of another man
Coveting distant targets
Booty unheard of, unfound
And you shall not run like thee
You see
Reaching the distant lands
With the devil at their backs
Reeling from sheer horror
Exotic bazaars and neon lights
Collector man watched his pray
As the Troubadour and his friends
Circled the shore
Marching two by two
Their prize lay in the hands of a king
Bloodshed played over widowers
Death lay the victim asleep
Washed over with a thin black veil
With a light shower of diamonds
The King was laid below
And you shall not run like thee
For thee has run too long
Over distant mountain tops
Into far off valleys
Soaring across blue skies
Crumbling foreign castles to their demise
Fair haired spoils
Fruits of hard labour
You see
You shall not run like thee
Black masks and pony tales
Sidekicks and sport goggles
Ripped jeans and too good hats
Curly hair and bending knees
Diamonds in these eyes you see
It is over for you thin man
I see you standing there
Troubadour in your madness
You shall not run like thee

Learned Journey (day 640)

Remember that feeling as we swept off the sheets?
Placing delicate fruits aside for passionate love
Amid the sweet summer’s breeze
Goodnights and long days fold our hearts away
Sliding the time carefully amongst the wrinkled back pages of our hearts
Crawling carelessly across the barren desert
Scratching away like ravenous fowl
The knees of our plight, the oiled and trusty hinges
Leading the battle march forth
Gravitating back to that passionate distillery
We remember from a day long passed
Move on handsome soldier
Passion changes, lust morphs, love grows

Bicycle (day 639)

Your marvelous wheels
That catch a shining glare
Turn all the girls heads
When we roll on by
Summer golden locks
With pink crop tops
Big eyed shades
It’s gelato time
And racing through parks
Jacket flowing wide
Wind in my hair
Big smile on my eyes
Freedom at last!
As we curl past the final gazebo
Home stretch in front
We’ll stop just in time


Shippin’ Off Blues (day 638)

Blues running through my veins like a thousand year old steam train
Shufflin’ with rhythm unprecedented, unfounded, and glorious
Hustlin’ with mood set out for bad-ass gangsters fixing for the night

I’m gone baby, I’m ready for the big show
I’ve been shining these here two toned, Italian made leathers far too long
I’m shipping off in the next thing that moves
Towards better days with freedom I call home

Fixating on darker things of the night
Little noises
Smoke wafting up fedora covered heads
Huddled around the exclusive club
Ladies with silk dresses courtin’ slips
Not of tongues, but of long slender lines that draw up the side of a beautiful woman’s leg
Moonshine whiskey in small parlour glasses that clink with each sip from thawing rocks

Baby, I’ve got the blues tonight
Steady glow from jukebox blues
Ol’ wooden chairs that drag on hardwood floors
Pompadours for men with long chains scraping round the ground
Bouffants on pretty ladies with elbow length satin gloves
Sittin’ ‘mongst the men, leanin’ on tables and chairs
And Lady Theodore, the spectacle of my amazement
The light of the establishment
Glory and style and beauty encapsulated

I’m hustlin’ tonight baby
I’m ready for the big show
I’m shippin’ off ‘n the next thing that moves

Earth as We Know It (day 636)

Apocalyptic desires spread across the landscape into horizons of jubilant joy, needlessly wandering about the edges in a vignetted blur of reason and sacrifice.

All that was known then suddenly became lost, like the vision from the eyes when consciousness is shifted into the willing arms of a sideways glance, a flicker at the edges of a landscape.

Energy begins to build with anticipation and excitement; roaming birds know this feeling well, they make love to the feeling on sunny days when warm winds blow fresh scents of motherly creations of earth upon their nest.

Laying absentmindedness at the door, whipper-whisps swap the mind to the present, dust floats up from the awoken floorboards hitting sunlight that delights lovers, playing with time and space it’s exchange grows with anticipation into one final exultant gasp and releases such a tremor the rest fall into a deep dark sleep.

Deep within runs wild, from all except the grumpy gnome, the soldier of harbouring resentment, who scowls at all life and pushes away forthcoming joys to create for himself the place he never wished he had.

Alongside this dwelling of darkness runs a brook wild, over mossy rocks, through gnarled trees, past covered bridges, and out into the pussy willows and lily pads.

Taking away with it, from upstream down to the lowlands, all hate, love, magic, potions, desires, misspent emotions, and dying flowers into a new season of germination where new things shall sprout and grow with playful arches of sun that float onwards and away as the magical fruits of earth we know.