Little blackbird little blackbird
You sit there so lonely
Your friends along the line
Not away, not too far.
I see you agitated
Worried and lonesome
Watching them get along
Where you sit, from afar.
Why don’t you start singing
To the day through the air,
To the sunshine that hits you,
To Spring coming in the air,
Your singing so beautiful
Would attract every ear
From Pictou to River John
From afar to right here.
Tag: afar
No Love (day 2860)
There had been no love
In each open space
Found on the cobblestones.
No, each open space
Found on the cobblestones
Was toxic
Spit and debris
Dust and grime
That transcribed its years
Onto the closeness to my nose
That I could always see
Though my eyes were held afar.
Betwixt a Star (day 2134)
Let me thank you for your moment
For loving me for a moment
I saw it in your eyes then
I saw it in your eyes.
Like finding a new blossom
Betwixt winter’s long cold
Your heart rolled open then to me
Your heart rolled open, then.
Which put a smile upon my face
So deep it almost hurt
Together we saw a galaxy afar
Together we saw our star.
Foreign Tongue on the Rise (day 1949)
My horse is a stallion
That I ride into fields afar
Sasanian teas on my tongue,
And a giant sun in the sky
Leans in to tell me secrets
Of land my mind runs to
Where family awaits
No word of my pursuits.
I am their father
Fierce as a tiger
Our manes running free
And my horse is a stallion
Decorated with all I am able,
A powerful warrior and me
And a foreign tongue on the rise
With a sword at my side
Thundering ten thousand hooves riding
In dust through the sky
And my mind runs wild
Like silk floating
Through this twilight, afar.
Pen Blotches (day 1575)
I cannot grasp what it will mean to send you off again,
What it will mean to let you go;
Finger tips to finger tips and not looking back
And hearing the roar of big jet planes
Overcome my trembling heart
That fleeting moments have left disoriented,
Direction home now jumbled and unrecognizable
Like the clouds you’ll soon be looking down upon.
I cannot find solace in a text to voice ratio,
In a line to line heartbeat filled of stories from afar.
But I will write until my pen blotches all my
Blank pages sad, and leaves my exclamation marks
Simple puddles in a mess.
So come back soon,
Before my heart begins to beat too soft a vibration,
And my pen runs out of black.
