Frosty Morning Saunter (day 891)

A motionless saunter through the cold grass leaving footsteps every bloody place that I go and picking up my feet without tying up the laces because the gloves on my hands are too warm and the air is too cold but the path ahead is shaking and quivering in unrelenting uncontrolled mastery non-mastery in spite my insistence on leaving my hands out of their pockets to fight this urge to cower and shelter from the brutal elements hoping to bridge the gap between strength and toughness without too many frost bites but this is ok because I read about it in a book that told me I should and it told me it’s valiant and it told me I can walk on coals with bare feet too because the skin between my toes is too soft and could use a good toughen up but oh my look at that large dog walking down the now covered in leaves path about to jump up on me because I treat it like a human being and acknowledge it’s existence for who in their right mind wouldn’t want to jump up on me with such an acknowledgement but you know the dog is so friggen big it’s like a young man feeding must be expensive is all I can think as my steps trace up the frozen tarmac slipping on the thin layer of ice hardly visible and highly wavering but all is good because I’m about to peak this crest and stand for a moment on the highest point and survey my kingdom for it is my kingdom for it is my kingdom for it is my kingdom that I survey due to my commitment to walk the coldest slippery path in all the woods in the mornings before the dusk has settled in and after all of the leaves have come flying down to the maker of their fate named gravity and decay and decomposition and footsteps along the singletrack path between the naked branches of thinner than I thought birch trees awaiting the bounty of springs sunshine because I’m not ready to give up on the year yet I’ve got plans to formulate and materialize and time to waste and sleep to never catch up on and a nice warm cup of coffee around noon because I’ve begun to let down my guard for certain things as I raise my guard for garbage and consumption and waste and destruction of our land this land my land my kingdom I saunter through on this cold frosty morning good morning world good morning world good morning world get up and go now take it off.

Where By Now (day 890)

I am loosing my way, path
My sight and vision that has drawn me
That has layered my soul
To be unraveled
Alone, confused
Clouded in a misguided belief
Loaned out to the public
Really, truthfully
Abandoned
Shifted like last season
Disregarded
Where by now
Amidst my centered thought
I have no more whole
And while lost along the way
I have imagined I
Am
Whole
To be purely mistaken
As if a premature frost
Escaping the night

There I Lie (day 889)

There I lie
Face turned towards the heavens imploring
Seeking questions
Yet written on my mind

Sun scattered eyes
Blurring crimson edges
Setting fire to
Out of focus pins and needles

Before deaths cry
Wind whispers shallow markings
On seasons frozen skin
Betraying movement

And forgotten
A heavy coat leaves
Memories
Without occupation

2013.10.23 - Prince George Trails

Strolling (day 886)

Day dream with me,
A stroll if you will,
Through weeping willows
Flirting the edges of a pond.
Home to Canadian geese
With park benches
Scattered about
In an loosely knit pattern;
Two left, four right.
And old lamp posts –
Think nineteen fifty New York
Al Capone and the Rat Pack,
Steeze so steep
It takes a cane to walk back up –
Strolling.
The only way to hold this dream
Is to head along,
Around and around
Strolling through the gay couples
Hand in hand in thought and plans,
Midday sun with passive flies,
Squirrels about gathering nuts
While little bits of escaping grass
Grow up between the cracks,
Making the scene one of delight
One of softness
Fit for a stroll

Richard Rococo Leon Bowsky (day 884)

I find myself floating along on this delightful day
Lost without being lost, happy without a cause
Joyfully munching the highest of acacia leaves
To quench my hungry appetite
After all, living as the tallest terrestrial animal
Requires a quite unique palette
But all this jibber-jabber
You’ll have to excuse me and my manners
How does the sun shine on you today?

aGiraffe

The Flood (day 883)

Passion floods my blood soaked eyes
Laying dormant towards the sky
Fallen lifeless amidst debris
All life has ceased to be with me

For fuel once burned deeply within
A heart so true; nearly sin
That clogged the eyes searching about
Destined for truth, a heavy clout

Long had land been free to me
To wander about in unbound glee
Drained clean this heart of all its blood
To life that guides on in an empty flood