To breathe the first breath of ocean air
Deep into my starving lungs
As sun dips down to half past seven
I realize the tide’s becoming.
Even with my toes exposed
I find salt refreshingly tickling my nose,
Seagulls cry in celebration
And driftwood leads me forever on.
I roll my pants to half mast
And whistle to a little snail
Who’s slowly off to go out sailing
And I, my eye, to the clear blue sky.
Month: May 2016
Distance (day 1827)
I hate distance
It makes me anxious
And unwilling to move
And at the same point
Lost in translation
For locked inside
My nomadic heart
Beating upon different soil
Fleeting like broken sheets
And immersed
In a distant photograph
Soiled with the essence
Of a soul wandering,
A soul purely exposed
And awaiting.
Sunset at the Beach (day 1826)
Western wishes
Glistening beaches
Tide’s rolling home
Turning Outlaw Again (day 1825)
I’m turning outlaw again,
My stinging words will pierce thy soul
And my fists will bleed my wicked ways,
I’ll drink my beer warmer then
My women have ever been.
I’m turning down the next dusty road
Handing over my soft spoken ways
For rowdy bars and snake tattoos
I’ll start to hiss with the devils drink.
I’m turning outlaw again,
My gang will be 20 strong
On an open road,
Our clubhouse filled with naked women
Who have signed their posters on the walls.
Saw toothed barbed wire
Will be our backup guard dog
And strapped in a leather sheath to my hip
Will be the deadliest blade known to man.
I’ll shoot my shotgun out the back door
At empty beer cans from the night before,
And all my cigarette smoke
Will lead me to toke,
Cause baby, I’m turning outlaw again.
Beautiful People (day 1824)
Why are people so beautiful?
Some days the ruin of my heart
Lingers upon my tongue
And touches my nose with the faintest scent
Of midsummer’s rain.
I cannot handle this pain
In the easiest of ways,
Waiting for my touch to return
And senses to die down.
For I am only a man,
Saddened by a never ending toil of life
To which I patch holes
With beautiful people in my heart.
Boardwalk of Whiterock (day 1823)
I remember high waisted love
I had to try on
In summertime I was
A hopeless romantic singer
Sentinel at my perch
On the boardwalk of Whiterock.
Every passing and going
It was summertime affair
I heard wind blowing
Seagulls culling
And I out to my sea
On the boardwalk of Whiterock.
Now my vessel aboard
Sunglasses and a city of scores
Tide’s low sandy toes
And my voice crying out loud
For nighttime’s aglow
On the boardwalk of Whiterock.
Let it be Fire (day 1822)
I can strongly feel the urgency
To leave a mark of sincerity
I can feel the strength surging up
Let it be fire
Let it be fire
Let it be strong.
I have heard the call of transparency
To leave lying exposed my chest
I can feel the beat of everlasting
Let it be fire
Let it be fire
Let it be strong.
I am the heat in the sun
To fuel your animal’s deep jungle
I can feel the day long
Let it be fire
Let it be fire
Let it be strong.
Pizza For Breakfast Again (day 1821)
Keep your toes turned in
Don’t lose that anger
Don’t let go that deep down feeling
Where things just ain’t right
A delay
A mistake
A sideways glance
An avoided question
Remarks leftover with
Pizza for breakfast again.
One line doesn’t lead a road
A windy road
With seated tickets
Black fedoras
Bill folds
Cadillacs and
Pizza for breakfast again.
A mountain in charge of
Pioneers recollection
As fields reap harvest
And a bastard stands tall in
Sun beaten heartache
For a sister who loved him
In a town too small
Closed for business
Out of order
Dialtone on
Pizza for breakfast again.
Writing with a Fountain Pen (day 1819)
Blotches
On fingers
And everywhere else