This sky, and whispers from my tongue
Through fights: torrents and storms.
I wonder what shakes them forth…
So then my whispers should linger
Like my footsteps echo through these halls;
Cobblestone roads and rickety signs,
Darkness offset by lanterns dancing with my mind.
I let it shake and I cannot sigh,
For winter’s warmth stayed awake today
To brandish my armor as I let them fly
Upon winds that returned my whispers.
Your heart is not a valley away,
Nor a diamond left unbought.
Though time discovers all our pain,
Lifting our sins to meet the eye,
To shatter history spent in plans.
To know is like a misspent truth;
To touch the wings of a butterfly;
To give up on the fight.
Where I’m left standing,
Yelling: “My heart is on my sleeve.”
Which I’m not here to wear,
I am here to give alone.
Where I hear the valley’s echo.
List me forever.
List me like giant trees
That skyscrape before me
In absolute synchronicity
With wild honey bees
Hovering deeply around me.
List me like a fowl’s thump;
Deep within me,
Light steps ahead of me.
List me like I’m off the wall,
Like I’ve been abandoned
And recycled
And re-crafted into love
So deep my eyes are shining blue.
List me cause I’ve got your name
Written on every page I’ve scribbled,
Inside the liner notes,
And circled with my blue pen.
List me
And I’ll step with you.
You don’t get to where you are
By building holes in attics.
There’re Devils grinning here
At these temptations crossroads.
Like my organic lover
Chastised in a bed of thorns,
I am too beaten into blood-let confessions,
Loosened until I am deliberated.
Happy because I have heaven.
Can you whistle to me magic?
Woop-de-woop.
A lovers forever magnetic
And I’ve left for Southern Texas, mom.
She was a woman who cared for her lovers
The same she cared for beggars and friends.
A little lone heart with a name stuffed with blues;
Hobo’s delight in a $10 Marlborough,
And my love never lasted in that smoke-house saloon.
Love in a little back door room.
My dreams and I was heartache by Tuesday.
Though I swam like a digger, I was surfaced and saved
In my own lonesome song.
She was a heart made up of elastics
And my twangy delivery
Was the Wednesday that I’d never start.
So don’t go treating your lovers
Like left over flipping page books.
It’s a forgotten stack, the dusty pile,
And we’re a never ending love song
With toes getting colder.
A common answer to sufferin we kept inflicting,
Two unspoken lovers on two lost Sundays.
Two out of tune guitars
Waiting to behold warmer mornings,
Just waiting on leftover tea.
She made me get up later
So we could talk of traveling gypsies
And listen to leftover records
We’d forgotten to play with brandy.
I collected your answers in tiny glass jars
For your leftover spells.
I wasn’t branded in passion;
Painted on that old saloon wall
With some unspoken love song
And leftover cigarettes sailing the sea
As I woke up to Wednesday
On a Tuesday afternoon.
Don’t betray your love letters,
Long scrawls of ball pointed confessions.
Amnesty holds my widowed fingers:
A hearts feverish clutches
Tied loosely to my bangled neck piece.
This is my lover’s heartbeat,
This reverberation about the floorboards
Awakening the lone-hawks
Circling high above
In sensible entrapment.
I am insensible like a lone wolf
Howling at moonlit stargazers.
My memories don’t betray my written love letters,
[Eyes praying on weakened soul]
It’s always my intention to be true.
For I’ve become quite a drawl
As summer’s moon drags me
Through windswept memories
Drifting dangerously close
To my anchored points.
My shattered dreams
Left luminescent marks
Along my stoned chin;
Set deep within my jaw.
I climb on.
I set on.
I limber on
As unbent seamen
Stare headlong; fore
Unsuspecting winds.
Until my tan
Become so leather’d
That I should rise
And set together
With my windswept memories
Of the day’s bliss and breeze.
I know that I didn’t lose my answers
When I stepped off late at night.
When I closed the door and shifted sheets.
When I spoke my prayer dance to the moon.
When I laughed heartily
Allowing my soul to saturate
Every breath you exude.
Because this is my intake
And answers don’t get lost here
Where answers don’t get forgotten.
A range of extremes rushing through my heart
Billows and swells my emotions alive.
So I, all exposure; wind at my neck,
Look to the distance with dreamy eyes sans regret.
Moments that crawl deep in mud
Shaking mystery free from it’s longing and clutching grasp.
A sad song sung alone, echoing off towering cliffs.
A sweet song sung on a bellowing clarinet.
Could you lie to me just a little bit longer?
Rush to my head on a caffeinated high.
Your sprouts in my garden are light in my eyes,
And singing alone’s become quite obscene.
I’m asleep in a tiny jewel;
Happy, and my mind’s eye.
To freedom I’ve never given up.
A rhythm which is rhyme
And castles made of sand
Float wind swept grasses.
So high, so long.
And I am asleep in a tiny jewel;
With windows into-out-of
I crawl and drain sand,
Sifting my widowed beetroot
And surfacing divine;
Flat root / straight cut.