I opened my heart today
Let it dry out in the winter air
Unbeknownst to me
A snowflake
Built upon infinite possibilities
Floated about my heart
Landing in a precious spot
I felt it glisten
In that cold winter air
Tingling sensation to the tips of my toes
Flirting with the edges of a smile
When just as easily
Just as simply as the path of the flake
A teardrop formed
Occupying the folded regions
Of my shaded eye
Drying in the winter’s air
For a while there I was thinking of quitting you
My dirty secret
My dungeon of love
Your united sound log
Your division of hope
I pushed you forth without ever knowing
Then you tossed away the breaking point
And spat it all across the roxy red chairs
Peanuts and gamblers
Standing around
Betting on sure things laid out to waste
Frothing animals with strapping young lads Riding their backs
Challenging each poser who attempts to stretch into the lead
Corners and white rails with grass always green
And a little buggy trailer that spins once around
Chasing some distant smell out in the grains
Smell that fooled no one that came out of the benches
Punching through lost bottles and dribbles of spit
Discarded score cards with random numbers
Little numbers, faint numbers, broken numbers, black numbers
Doors swing wildly here without much aim
Ghosts come and go, lost without a name
And in all the hallways one can hear the distant thunder
Of heels pounding against the ground
It is beautiful, your waltzes
That have stars spinning on their toes
They catch my breath in sweet meditation
While the ground parts dirt for each step
Legs glistening in moonlight
With ripples of motion and sensual glances
I hear wind whispering kisses in my ear
The same shouted loud from your eyes
I glide to the rhythm of the night
Waltzing along in the shadow of your breath
Clapping my Italian leather heels to your beat
Sending echoes down the lamp-lit street
Off into muffled sounds of laughter
Looking out this plain, water stained window
The night prepares to share it’s darkness
Street lights flick on, awaking evening
Full of buttoned up, hand warming peacoats
Clip-cloping evening shoes dance along ordinary pavement
Where uneven walking paths skirt between neighbouring brownstones
And evergreen shrubs drip with saturation
It’s too bad on evenings like this
With air biting away at exposed skin
That stars don’t shine through overhead clouds
Instead, softening edges and colours into grays
Boutique doors close for the morrows awakening
In all conditions
And the word was met
Out from the distance
Sprung one, and his net
And all through the forest
Then through the seas
Onward to habitats
And into the streets
From that day forth
Set out to the edge
Was the lot and their goals
He was a master
A master at a craft
One that spewed madness
And another out of stress
One that strews happiness
One with regret
For then one became
In his shelter of back trash
A champion of his craft
Living in amongst
The nature he was of
He walked on his coats
His suit heaven felt
His boat in the moor
To which he escaped
After the deed had been done;
Tracked and then captured
Tamed and then toweled
Dried like a mint
For tea was the score
Figure me this
Let me be your sprigot
You insectide of madness
You inhibitor of fleas
What then
Lost in a net of spiritual madness
Taken from all beings
Then figure me that
Standing proud
Was our gallant soldier
Basking in his glory
Basking in his gorgeousness
Waving his flag bloody proud
And smiling
Victorious
And fantasy breaks over the ice like award winning actors
Carefully floating its sadness into the cracks of the frost
Sculpting majestic kingdoms for antique traveling
Who walks away with the prize when all soldiers cry?
Dim spots of light fill the sadness over the meadow
While blood nourishes the fresh roots finding the new morning
For then, after one evening of bonfires and dancing
The heavens broke open and spilled out eternity
Laughing out loud as if pricked by cupid himself
As dances all came to a finale and bow
The feelings rustled down in orange and red leaves
With freshly cut pine keeping warmth in the fire
A passing stranger steps onto the street
Three wise men watch him with their eyes
Pulling apart the layers of unknown
With one single nod it’s all gone to waste
Flying with patience an assault comes ahead
Loaded with a single sword
One made to draw the blood of valiant men
The attack goes ahead
Hands moving without thought
Trained for this night
The four become one
Across the rough surface of the street
Clanging swords ring out into the night
Intensified by the glaring moon high in the sky
The warrior’s shadows all bounce off the walls
Leaving traces carved out on the surfaces
One man with hair tied high above his head
Yells out into the night
A victim to the strangers sword:
One knee, sword curled into the heart
The three that remain round into the stable
Horses are gone; all out for the night
Only the warriors remain
The magician starts the fire and the blazing builds
One nick on the shoulder for the stranger in rags
The wise men were right, they knew who he was
Staring and breathing and allowing it to flow
The three, instant action, begin once again
A sword through the neck takes down the second wise man
His long netted hair flails out in a circle
Around the dying corpse, gasping for breath
Flying down low, another life for you now
With that quick flick of the wrist, two is all who remain
A wise man now friendless, and the stranger in rags
They know it has come to this, they saw it begin
A few knowing glances, a few words to share
But not with this bounty, the booty in rags
Tucked deep inside, is what they came for at last
It is death for one more, this battle is fast
Swords drawn for attack and a rush to the head
Circling one another they trace out their path
The fight and its wings is back on the street
With swords flashing wildly repeating their names
The masters dance in the ancient martial art
Without a noise escaping their mouths
The show, a pure form and fashion, carries on
Dust kicking up and the moons glare from all angles
Then, instantaneous rest
A calming all around as if hushed by the night
Settling of the dust, echoing of the night
And footsteps leading away, one last wise man dead
One stranger continues, awaiting the next challengers without relent
Letters die slowly as my eyes flicker across the unlined pages
Counting page numbers unconsciously
Ignoring the silent buzz of the fluorescent
Where I push on, into the dream that lazily floats forward
Witness my power as I push on the door
Hold tight to the wings as I soar through the air
Growling at the jungle that shuts out the stars
I roam free where I lay down my sword
Winter isn’t cold here
It’s like Sunday in front of the fire
Expensive liquor and
Love floating all around
Sounds breaking apart the mahogany
Dripping down the walls
And lifting up the edges
Of the well polished atmosphere
I’ve given in to the long coats
The ones with fur lining
My grandfather handed down
Brought from old Russia
In solid chests on the backs of horses
I’ve slumbered around with
Expensive cocktails with bow ties
Suspenders and alchemy dripping down the walls
A time of surreal magic
Pushing out between the breasts
Of well dressed ladies
I’ll take two for the road sir
Tuck them under my outstretched coattails
And push them down with essence
Tugging tightly at my cufflinks
Trail of broken hearts and glitter
Follows me out the back door into the evening air