Category: black heart

Secrets

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Tell me your secrets today.
It’s raining outside
Like my wishes have gone.
I don’t want sadness much more
So I can sleep in the night
Without dreaming in symbols
Of the dreams I still have.

Tell me your secrets tonight
When I’ve had my dessert
I’ll sit listening intently
Awaiting heat to emanate
Through bones in my skin
Wrinkles and sin
Two ice cubes and you.

No more secrets my dear
It’s a sadness I cannot bear.
Your voice is too soft
My thoughts too far.
My cello keeps drawing lines
Upon the back of my neck.
Will you write me a new song
So I can sing out the last?
My heart keeps trembling
And my eyes keep closing.

Broken Veins

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What road did I drive down again?
Path of dusty broken veins
Weed choked by falling road dust
Dry season on two wheels
And a gooseneck straddling dotted lines
About a ribbon I’ve tied across my finger
To remember a mannequin I fell in love with.

Holy I went left!
I took my squirrels medium rare
And left my lover there
Amongst rocks as ocean’s edge
To watch whatever growing storm
Should scarcely hide away her tears.

In my pack I tried to hold
Every essential piece of gold
I locked it up, taped it down,
Bound it to my back with straps
That crossed my chest and held my gear
As wind swept across my beard
Reminding me though I may fly
I’m still so gnarled and twined
As river’s edge a weeping willow
Set about my fate.

Slowly into Tea

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I wish I could cry on the good days
when my tea is softly spoken
and each of my windows
have snow lightly dancing,
exploring my imagination
in waxing crescent arising.

So it’s said my moon is slowly rising
a wind about my sail
to calm me as I build up to
a moment of my truth.
Where do I sing from?
No microphone or recorder
follows me around
making what shall soon become
lost in a myriad of webs.

Perhaps my days are all of good;
tea awaits my silent lips
even when the sun has risen cold
and my time spent entranced in forest
are met with caribou and grouse.

So maybe the I shall speak a little,
whistle a little to my tune
that whispers it’s short breath inside
each window I look out upon
and lays my ever waxing moon
into swirl of my tea leaves
where my moment comes just as the last
a fragment to be had and gone.

Unattended Fire

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I’m hijacking emotional waves
Leaving the strong winds
For cracked nuts
And a fire, unattended.
My teeth hurt
And my coffee’s gone cold
– Toxic lush
Even when hot.
A game, I’m gone
Struck me on the shoulder
But hoping for an open minded Lady
Who gave a wrinkled
Promiscuously acquired
Five dollar bill
To a tourist fear trap
Like a Merry Christmas card
Unsigned.
But I’m gone
With hotel room vibes
Blinking lethargically
Stuck in deeper thoughts
That have taken me
Deep inside
This unattended fire,
Waiting for a spark to arise
Within me
Like Cupid’s golden arrow.

Unattended Fire by Ned Tobin

Lost Wings

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Seperatism loses me
It’s a lost art
Guided by a nobody train
And nobody to sing
Nobody has sung.
I look into your eyes
And I see missing
I see wallowing sorrow
And a stained glass window
Echoing a cold statue
With angel wings
Sainted.
We can be friends
But I wont ask to meet you there
Instead
Walking alone
Listening to nothing more
Than each voice inside my head.

Lonely

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Lonely
Like this ghost
I whisper my secret stories
Unwilling to chill
My nervous twitch.
My veins have begun to bulge,
My forecast is for rain,
My tulips are still
A long cold wait away.
So this whisper caresses
My ghostly remains
Turning effortlessly
Against swirling wind,
And painting my brightness
Gray, weathered and stained.

Dried Pen

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My anger soaks me;
Leaflets floating to ground
With script precisely writ.
Daggars fly;
Pen dries and is again dipped
To lay out my pulsing veins
That have taken hold
Each cumbersome breath,
Each suffocating exhale,
And filled my hand with poison.

I dare not touch again.
Yet yearn I do so much
For even a deadly touch
So soaked in yearning’s pulse
That I feel
Faint throbbing at my neck
To gasp at last
A breath so soft
Anger’s taken leave
My life.

Faint Echo

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Transmission loss is inevitable
With such broad spectrum distortion
Carrying a candle through darkness
Is a miner for gold
Or coal
Or anything that matters
To the lords of the underground.
But when I yell
It echoes back to me
Around the field
From the trees
From the hill
Between the buildings and back,
Which gives me motivation
To try again
Though my understanding is faint
As I watch a blowing bag
Floating in the wind.
Today it is not dusty,
Though a slight breeze comes on,
It is muggy and heavy
An extra 30 pounds to a person
That sweats through a shirt
With the mere though of lifting
An arm in toil.
So where do I sit
In such heavy silence?
At the crossroads
With a miner on my shoulder
Torn down ligaments
Effortlessly gazing
But with sharp eyes watching
Everything being lost.

Slave’s Still Fight

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I am immense
And stuck
And broken in my battle;
Giants tearing trees
And Titans throwing boulders.

How do I convey my meanings
When I am unreasonable
Living inside a dream
Of everyone’s meaning well.

Does my habit become your habit?
Do I lose myself into you?
Does my soil sprout many plants?
Can I hope to grow with you?

For my beast of rage
Within my deep breaths
Is evermore, everclear,
And hoping for more tomorrow
For my heart fights back
My heart fights for freedom
In a change
That cannot grow faithfully
To the slave of a great wrong.