Unsold and awaiting
I’m lost, un-masterpiece
Untended beside grand grapevines
To the spiders weaving webs
Crawling slowly over
Minding cracks with every inch
Dishing out my good vibes
To sun, forever strong
I take my time maturing
Beyond what’s seen, known
Category: agape
She Liked Me (day 977)
She liked me because I made yam fries.
She liked me because of chopsticks on our first date.
She liked me because at all hours of the day,
Our stomachs growled in unison.
She liked me because I had dreams in my eyes.
She liked me because I’d read her poems I’d just written about her.
She liked me because every reason told her to be afraid,
But she’d still tuck her hand deep betwixt my warm nooks.
She liked me because when she licked, it tasted good.
She liked me because it wasn’t about the money, or the test.
She liked me because I liked it each and every time,
No matter how far we’d gone, or how loud we’d been getting there.
She liked me because we fought in the kitchen.
She liked me because I pinned her against the counter, frequently.
She liked me because she was changing me,
One smile after another, one spell after the other.
She liked me because I’d let her buy dark chocolate.
She liked me because I dug deep for strength.
She liked me because it just wasn’t the same,
When roads pulled our hands and spaces awaited patiently.
And I like her just the same.
Sprinkling Romance (day 973)
Knees that touch
Music on low
Eyes and effortless words
Teach Me the Moment of That (day 972)
Teach me the moment of that.
The moment we collided
In an orchestral orgasm,
Ecstasy of fragrants and essences…
And soft music blowing
Leaves in a swirl about our thoughts
That hang like spring rainclouds.
Teach me the moment of that.
Where I walk on the balls of my feet
Through soft summer warmed sand.
Seagulls walking quietly, lazily,
Hand in hand with sunglasses and oversized hats
That smile at most all things,
And run home to.
Reverie (day 967)
The day that I died
I rose to heights I’d never imagined
I screamed at the clouds
For breaking my ascent
And snarled at the trees
For leaving me behind
The day that I died
I put two left socks on my right foot
I wore my pants a little bit low
To scare old folks
And throw out literal puns
Like the madman I was
The day that I died
I gave mother the biggest hug she’d ever had
She felt within her own arms
The rise and fall of my own heart
She cried great tears that washed away villages
And carved out the mighty Fraser
The day that I died
My heart went to Tibet
Where it sat upon a flagpole
And could do no harm
In times of need, it was unbounded luck
To those who wished upon it
The day that I died
Not a piece of green grass died
Lush was the planet
As the stars made way for me
To call into eternity
That which cannot be given a name
The day that I died
Reverie floated about
Where we lost moments that chided
Our deep complexion of humanity
And all about the silent house
Peace was found existing
Goodmornings (day 962)
Listen…
Commas chase the apostrophes
Through long grass
And stars
And seagulls waking me
In embraced
Goodmornings
To lull my lines
Into happy sentences
To glimpse
With ears wide open
Into four digits
Blinking
Silently
Coffee Mugs and an Umbrella (day 958)
We smiled and held hands
Walking through the rain
With a dollar store umbrella
Bending backwards at the knees
But that’s ok
Because we’ve got our Vancouver
Take away coffee mugs
Gripping tightly to the warm feeling
That’s slowly enveloping
This Saturday morning
Satisfaction
Tibetan Orbs (day 955)
While straddling my time between Christ the sugar bowl and Don, the rather small teapot
I kissed the roasting bacon nuzzling up against my clothes, a warm glove
“Ouch” said the lonely spot of a remnant hot plate as I smooth talked her into a gentle coo
From here, I could almost hear the other patrons, busily slurping their medium roast over
Minding the color swirls developing in their half and half and brew mix; mind the honey, sugar
I twisted wildly to see a maiden, one of fairer skin and lovelier smile than this twirling vinyl chair I’d been making eyes at
I couldn’t quite understand her stuffed down puff jacket obstructing her twisted cursive
As she coiled and rounded the blue ball point pen about the pages of her soft red scribbler
But my eyes were taken by her small Tibetan orbs delicately dangling from her lobes
I wondered how far she had come today, and if it meant to her as much as it meant to me
That she was also sitting by her lonesome, like I was, at a buck fifty diner, romancing wildly with Christ the sugar bowl and Don, the rather small teapot
Mingling (day 954)
Mingling
Sorting letters
Amongst old stampage
Whispering quietly
At fond memories
And re-reading
My mystery
Stepping (day 952)
Every day that I see
Wandering away
Light stepping dreams
Through high grass
Shaded from
Strong shining sun
I lament
I long for more days
Where I, close to my
High stepping dreams
Flutter my eyes
Recollecting
For this is not a dream
A premonition
Thickly clouded
Encephalon
This is a walk
Through Autumn meadows
