Full Love

Today I choose full love
That grapples at my conscious edges
My error code
Tumbling down dark mode numbered lines,
Plainly and painfully
Guarding my thought patterns
That lead me away from full love
Which I choose to keep today
In my basket of offline organics
Springing to life within me.

Fragments of Meaning

Take my visual fragments
And place them at the foot
Of an old chedi,
For I don’t want my queues
To scatter my own thoughts
Like a back alley
I’ve stood for too long admiring.

Take my meaning
And lessen it’s grip
For it crawls
And has not yet learned
The intricacies of
Falling and getting up,
Though these scuffed knees
Have surely tried
Against the pain.

Hold my hand and remember
That I’m not here for a long time,
This shall become dust
And my subscriptions shall expire
Like organics back to earth,
Like music into silence
For it is without question
That life surely begets death.

Fragments of Meaning by Ned Tobin

Looking For This (day 3035)

I am looking for this.
All of my efforts and truths
Are running in parallel with my actions.
I am calling to my inner self,
Feeling my bones rumble
At each swing I make,
Splitting my observations into fragments
That live long in the hearts of men
Who come and sit and talk.
Yet this action has no idle,
It bears resemblance to sweat
Breaking the cloth in toil,
For when the sun rises in the East,
Each drop of frost rises
Like the man I am looking for.

Looking for This by Ned Tobin

Revival (day 3004)

The end is not the end
We think we know it is;
Skinny knees lost in the breeze
Flowing through the heart.
– An awful start –
– And dust came –
Into the very spot
I had come to like so well,
And a special stop
To regain what remains…
For it is not the end,
For it is never in the end!
Just a different start
To revive this believing heart.

Heavy Hallow (day 3001)

Let me fall away
– Snowflake from the sky –
For my hallow has torn
What breath that once bellowed
From the depths
Of my heavy soul.
I will wash here
To embrace such a feeling
That can resemble
My reflections
That have become shattered,
And here I have bent
To account for the
Mistakes I have made.

Throat of Life (day 2847)

Wind is howling through this house
Like inescapable tombs of our past
Flesh biting flesh
Wrapped with fabric so dusty it crumbles.

Yet in open webs I can still see through
Nostalgia hits an ancient bone
That even her subtle breath of wind
Finds it hard to escape duty of.

Slowly eyelids close as raspy sun strokes,
A dying ember reminds us each
That our throat of life
Calms the day’s very nature.