Don’t install me in an ambient
I want kaleidoscope
Forgive me in an understanding
That I’m yet to come upon
This could have been my memory
Shaken from the slope
Dropping little apple
Fallen from the tree
Whisper late night
And be me and both again
For beginning with the smallest cloth
I woke up
And eleven seconds.
Category: frustration
Fever
When you look at me
Like I’m growing thin
Edges of my sloping chin
I walk amidst my fever ghosts
Lost, dark as night.
I feel the crown
Upon my heart
Fuse into my spine
That never woke
A fevered breath
That sounded hoarse as dust.
For when the game
Of morning light
Awakens this lost night
I will address
My dying breath
So delicate an embrace.
Cold Fusion of the Mind
Cold fusion plugging my artery
Making its way into my brain
Locked in embrace
With two swines for dinner
Make me a salad if you please.
And a winedrop
Caressing the glass window
Spilled over with a passionate moment
Left a gray cloud
Hovering closely
To the carved portrait on the wall
With graceful messages
In times of need
To all those who took to listen.
And I never left the door open
To invite all the neighbours
Though they took all the mail
And ate the fridge dry
I wore my best suits
And tied my own tie.
Who listened when the podcasts were turned on?
Will the beet juice stain
Each keyboard with fury
Slowly running down the lips
Of the sweetheart
With eyes of translocation
Heavy on my mind.
Fighting For A Softer Edge
If you give me a softer edge
I will believe in your touch
For in the grasp
Of a summer day
I remember all these dreams
And I can hear the buzz
Of the honey bee
Singing in my ear.
But if the edge continues to hone
I’ll find my sharpness cutting knots
Deep within my root stricken back
Holding me to gnarly strength.
I am the fire
Should I be struck
For I awake within my heart,
I am the dirt
That crumbles with
A slipping fist no longer clenched
No longer fighting back.
Breathing Grand
It has been hard to admit
That my words have lost meaning.
Even the breath
That inhales to explain
Where my full self has departed to
Has lost its strength;
Faintly attached
With two softly drawn cords
Like a spider web
In early morning dew
(Too delicate and lost
To be trecherous and hard),
Whispers inside myself
Have fallen down.
This weakness has touched my message
– Ice crumbling at the brink of water –
So much so that my eyes
Are no longer opening
With meaning and fury
For they have bid me adieu
While rainwater is expected
To stain this grand scheme.
Collected Page (day 3220)
My page is not full
The lateral movement
Convulsing into jagged lurches
As inspiration
Tangles its heavy hand
On each seam it finds to bend.
So this wind will blow
Until fresh songs
Dance around tempting,
Gravity and reason
Forcing their hearts
Into a dance
That my mind will swing
And remember
A collection can be so empty.
Tears Over A Sickle Bar (day 3218)
I tried to love you
With your broken ways
Spent the hours
Repairing your fractures
And took the time
To slow down
Listening to your hum
As you rocked back and forth
In the long sun
Struggling away
At cutting
Grass into hay.
But your fractures
Broke into cracks
And left me lurching
Struggling away
Too many times
To keep heart strong
Determined to make it work.
In The Heart (day 3213)
I realize my game has lost momentum
No longer playing with Neptune and Mars
But hormones and galaxies
Wise words and future revelations.
I watch grass blow in the wind
And robins search unending
For a game no longer visible
But in the heart, always remains
What momentum’s friendly name.
Choose (day 3212)
In the Gods
We can hold our faith
We can rewrite our paths
And align our virtues
Set our guiding stars
To make our vision
Ever-strong.
Instead of the false idols
Immortal souls
We idolize today,
The led astray
And imperfect visions
That accept faults
Within
Without effort to change
Nor grandiose to endure.
We can choose better
Than brands paying
For looks and ambassadors,
We can choose better
Than lying, cheating,
Thieving and misleading.
We can choose Honour
Understand Gravitas,
Lead with bravery,
And succumb
Only to mortality.
Idle Hands (day 3205)
This idleness
This treachery
This cannot happen
For is has spoken
Aloud
And worked its arms
Inside vices
Against terror
Wrapped around
Unspoken melodies
Yet it grew
Dirt pile
And grave dangers
Arose
From idle hands
At play
Upon the wheel.