Category: inward

My Brow, Your Brow (day 953)

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How do you commit to someone
To accept one entirely?
For it isn’t just a walk about
Strolling arm in arm…
Nor is it even a moment laughing
To which the poke’s about.

When I sleep, I do not know
What the murmuring’s about.
And walking gaily, all alone
I shouldn’t dare to stop.
Nor when I sleep in my lone bed
Best guess I’m zig-zag hogging

Is it just when my brow’s a furrowed
That I must dig down deep…
Or when I’m afar, a lonesome distance
Away from my fair damosel?
For strong I am, a soldier here
A valiant man of fortune

And when I catch a glimpse of that
Which doesn’t mesh with thyself,
Is it my duty to embrace distaste?
Or fare me well, when I am proud
To turn my head and trod
Into horizon, into the end, farewell! Be off! Be gone!

No. It isn’t that.
This is not the way.
This is not my heart’s desire.
For my own brow,
And your worn brow,
Are forever joined to cherish.

So I do now know what comes of me,
What begs me to be done.
It’s simply a hand of mine, outstretched and outlaid
Accepting another’s sun, vast, wild, and aglow
In peace, enjoyment.. conquest ho!
We run together, apart.

Free to be a memory,
Or a child in incubation.
Free to hide, and free to glow,
And free to bring the world to me.
Free to hold and free to love,
And free to be with me!

Stepping (day 952)

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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

2013.09.18 - Prince George Fall (85 of 231)

My Bare Shoulder (day 949)

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It’s my lingering svasti
Draped over my bare shoulders
As I sweep the streets
Unconsciously rambling

I don’t keep you for myself
I don’t hide you in my arms
You don’t reply to my encroaches
We become inanimate

But, like disaster’s calming exit
Left is my aching soul
Hunger for time, and more time
To reap and to sew; good (su)

Decisions (day 947)

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Face to face with myself
And not a shout to match my anger
Gross exaggeration of ignorant ideals
Spun into webs amongst my dizzy spins
To catch me when I fall down
Strangely grasping, gasping for air
Leaning out the window at
Ninety miles and hour where
Oppression isn’t meaningless
Sunken windows blow over the moonlight
As my smile begins to fade, enrage
Standing at my post
Face to face with myself

Flip (day 942)

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…and these beautiful tenses that flip then and now,
That close over my eyes and filter my dreams
Into little open-lid unmarked boxes
Arranged like a Braque exploration in cubism

These tenses float through thought, itching these dark corners
And flickering little sparks about.
Sensorial-wisps tingle my toes
And I close my fists a little tighter around patched memories

For brief moments then
As I stand alert, awake, and open
A vortex envelopes myself until that split second
Where I no longer have choice but instinct

…and I flip out, eyes fluttering
Glowing like a radiant being whose reached ecstasy
Who has just downloaded boundless formations
With Nag Champa floating and settling around