Glamour, distraught with delirium
Attentive with desire
Floating like the world spins
Gravitating the minions below
Desire, destruct, demise, entice
The last of the dragons shall fly tonight
Author: ned
Fleet (Day 210)
Bolsheviks fight ransoms
Eviction or disaster
Lost in the coldness
Wild shepherds lost
Laughing and laughing
And screams in the air
Nobody remembers
But everybody indeed should
A Weary Traveler (day 209)
A weary traveler
Asleep on the bench
Tells stories not in his breath
But in his hunching
Like the slow arc
Laid about by the dropping sun
The rhythmic tide
Thrusting is weight
In an effortless fashion
A weary traveler
Tells more stories of destinations
Relates roads walked
And styles of architecture used
Within his own steady eyes
Like the flame that sits: ignite
A weary traveler
Knows in all due time
The stories worth telling
Do tell themselves out
A Young Lovers Slow Dance (day 208)
Romantic getaways slowly fill the empty voids that creep up within the spaces
Hold tight the angels in the night, they call upon open windows from creeping vines
Precious laughter bottled into a fragile carafe, carefully flirting the rim of desire
Holler! Young lovers in the night; heed not the glowing numbers hovering lazily about your frame
Capture what makes sense within these bronzing statues staring gaily into the night
Play the keys of that slow song, heavy with personality and strong with soul
Dance, young lovers. Dance slowly into the night; find penance amongst the empty voids
Twelve To Zeros (day 207)
Priceless love
Elaborate please
Endless circles
Caressing slips
Slips in the middle
Slips in the night
Slips around the back
Slips between my thighs
Break away
Cool daughter of the night
Land upon the beckoning call
As if midnight was more than twelve to zeros
Barking & Fighting (day 206)
I stay awake to believe in faith
I stay awake to fight the elapse of time
Deep within it digs at my skin
Fighting the sin but barking
Barking slowly at the pet shop boys
Stalking the fish tank girl
Barking
Barking away the time delay
Sending the romance another way
Dig at the past like gold
At the ground like miners
Fighting for a piece of peace
Fighting for the strength to win in another day
Just like the youth prayed today
Just like the story book ended
Countdown into existence
Books (day 205)
Whiplash
Amongst other things
Seems to drag my daylight hours down
Like the needle fighting the yarn
Spindles through the gates
Shave me again dear lover
Burning
Lowers the daylight hours to a mere glimpse
Cowering in softened corners
Fed time by foreign oils and secret spells
Wizards walk here
Beneath and amongst
Covering the distance with speed
I’ve not seen coming from these here limbs
Since the rain washed away the sense
Built up in evanescence
Oh sigh, long lost love
Beyond all ropes of length
Close books
Fight doors
Leave bores
Slam whores
Eat smores
Figurative (day 204)
Figuratively speaking
There are rainbows
And tulips
And pretty girls
And sunshine
And smiles and green grass
And cute dogs following me around everywhere
But literally
There’s just my shadow
Rambling Eyes (day 203)
I stumble around the corners looking for new possibilities
Forgetting the last treasures I’ve found
With no regard for children I’ve left alone
Or mothers I’ve condemned to home
Sleep at last takes its icy grasp
About the neck of a startled child
Eyes wide and thumb in the air
And mesmerized by talking bears
Huddling in corners of this walled escape plan
I look up for a moment, struggling against all odds
Into deep eyes of a street light
Taking a moment to adjust to sprinkling pixie dust
Layered upon my brow with thick ale (in magic)
Morning’s wake brings silent whispers
Helpful advice and a companion of silence
Breathing the full mountain view into effect
There is hardly a time for thought and mind
Yet in this serene, there is no need, save Love
And down down again I trudge into depths
Sought out only by those deepest carnal desires
Those smitten with the most magical of potions
Perhaps, one hopes, grace is still found in the journey
There’s Blood Running Down (day 202)
The blood running down
The goosebumps: they fill the only void between space and all time
Lost in the backlash of over indulging
Slept on the wrong side again
Fuck, it’s the same in the end
The blood running down
The last breath holding the starlight deep beneath layers
Forever mourning the weakened desire
Forgotten by the squires
Prophesying all that doesn’t. Really. Matter.
The blood running down
The spreadsheets turning circles on masters and wizards
Poisoning the spells with lurches and makeshift cosmopolitans
Dressed up to please the ever indulging normality
Spiced with dreams of circle jerks
The blood running down
The only occasion left on this moonlit sonata passed these steps long ago
Streaking stains hid by the scared bits of light creeping in closer
But I’ve lost hope of these clever bits
My eyes grow weary, zip goes the bag
And there’s blood running down