Dashboard
Low hum
Blinkers and roadsigns
Category: nerd
Run (day 3029)
I woke my memory to a fall:
Into a vision I’d lost.
No amount of recollect
Could mimic what I had left,
So in the absence of all fear
I effortlessly bound forth,
Gathering my wit and truth.
I sloped for easy ground,
Harvesting each neuron
For the dear escaped moon
To where I left
My rambling mind
Of each blessing I had run.
Apex Predator (day 3003)
If only I had the sense to be
Like Tiger stalking prey:
Focused and with eyes alert,
I am the predator.
I have full attention to
Every sound alerting me,
Minute changes I can see
Smell, sense, and feel.
Never hungry, growing family
At the top of my game
I am an Apex predator
This is my territory.
Flying (day 2990)
A game against the marshy stars
Took me here to revel in patience
For in the stars beats many hearts
Long forgotten and passed away.
But to my open heart they pass
No longer grasping at the past
But into a moment of peace
They look for what they’ve sought.
Can you run, can you speed,
Can you live my heartstring beat,
Can you pass me from my emptiness
To the great transmission home.
Moving (day 2987)
Cardboard boxes
Limited space
Strategically placed
Golden Eyes (day 2983)
Feline looking back at me
Eyes as golden slits
White as snow could hope to be
Puffed lips that cleverly pursue
Delights to lick upon.
Inside those eyes a softness
Always an open thought looking back,
Tenderness in each step
When good company is there, present,
But when the night’s hour
Ticks down another day
Footsteps become loud thunderbolts
Cat’s meow into the night.
Hard Rain Late at Night (day 2977)
Tormenting onslaught
Deepest of dark
Blindness and wet
Telegraphy (day 2950)
I found you in the golden era of telegraphy
Long you swept, hard you clicked
We always, forever, kept quite a line
That bounced us as if ever worn
Ever tried, ever sent and ever received.
I waited, listened, you spoke and I heard
We danced to the tune of crispy crackles
Little quips
And we never closed our doors
For we heard, and that was enough.
Handkerchiefs (day 2947)
You be my Haiku
And I’ll be your Stanza
Stretched and bent
Water lines made of old straw
Known by a seamstress
Who knit all her handkerchiefs
And stitched them with a heart
Sultan my gospel
Fig tree in my heart song
Your sweet mouth
To my interpunct.
Shut Down (day 2929)
It is hard to know
When to shut down,
When to turn away
From this machine.
One becomes
All consumed,
All stuck on the tool.
But then,
At long last,
A little inkling
Draws one on away,
Like warming of a fire
To take to rest
To take to work
To take the mind
To physical
And find what has been lost
Out on the ground
Nature’s finest mess
A bivy full of uncharted.