Black night
Blackness
Darkened entreating
Bespoke and misleading
Howling
Danger
Sour
Altered vision
And missing time.
Tag: black
Inner Bird
What is the real reason for my inner voice?
Is this ego?
Have I whispered so loudly
To all Grandfather trees
That my echo and sensations
Are no longer my own?
Has my inner bird
Whistled alone
In surrounding scenes of chaos,
And called home
Mother Hen
Whom I sit under this great canopy with?;
Oaks and Elms and Maples.
Does my voice match my vision?
Do I see sky blues,
And earthy browns,
With forest greens all around?
Or have I become muddled
Lack of colour:
Grays, black, and cement.
Key of E Minor
Enter the Maestro
Long silence and little chatter
Shiny little black shoes
From where I sit
Clacking animatedly
Excited anticipation
Thus begins.
Rusting cello strings
Played in the lower key of E Minor
Pounding but softly on the frets
As a window amidst rain
Can only feel
Agony of the heart
Echoing off engineered walls
Settling to silence
Little flutter.
Hover one moment
About the lower E Minor chord,
Wait for no other beast
At the breast of emancipation
For it shall be only
Figures you’ve called out;
Mighty turmoil
Dripped from thy chin
Upon ancient grains of wood
So cherished between fingers
Resonated into hearts
Of forgotten sadness.
Silence.
No more can movement
Break the spell of horror.
Deathly pale voids;
Look back, unrecognizing
Distracted
Caught in a forever key of E Minor
That remains as sustain
Lost to the world.
Ode to a Red Tail (day 3077)
In a screeching halt
The red tail swept in
Wings flashing
Gray and black
And a golden brown
Of its vibrant tail
Left me speechless
As I watched.
So mysterious,
So close to home,
So brave in its approach.
Then just as quick
Off in flight
Those big wings began to wave
Elegant and smooth
Like a ballroom dance
Off, beyond my sight.
Colours of Autumn (day 2941)
Green, yellow, brown
Orange, lime
Gray, black
Crow (day 2918)
Restless and crow
Through eyes of Black
Long hair and a ruksack
With endless in tune
Trees in the night sky
Bridge by firelight
Morning in song
Murdered and wrong
Trying again to make friends
Crow and eleven
Mind here big step
Forward and lurching.
A Claim (day 2843)
It was not my claim,
Not could it ever have been
To be lost with controlled madness
On a motorcycle
Going fifty kilometers per hour.
The roads were too dusty,
Too slow,
Too quiet for forgiveness
To be called out
In a manner that did not support
Each dying ember of humanity.
And the glasses were of the new world,
A signal for misunderstanding
– Modern mythological errors
Combed with a brush of the future.
I merely sat there,
I did not dust off the seat
I did not wear deceiving clothes
I did not paint my hair black
Or red or green or blue,
And my wings ever grew
Until I no longer sat alone
Accompanied by history untold
That whispered flickers
Of a language with no words
To my clouded eyes
Laid bare.
Fire Burns, Fire Bare (day 2768)
And when the fire burns
Midnight is along soon
To gather dust at each
New passing flickering
But hallows, charr’d so black
Keep an ever thoughtful glare
Amidst my burning fire
For me, I am midnight
I am the fire’s bare.
My Black Diary (day 2748)
Your sadness is my message
For I have lost this control.
My diary has spilled black
Upon every written row.
Demon arise!
Demon show yourself!
You are yet a mystery
Each time it implodes,
And your matinee
Has left my evenings dry,
Lost into depths
Of a fire now spent;
Abyss uncharted.
The Old School House (day 2565)
I dream often of the love we once shared
Often we’re walking down the steps
To the Sea, to the sand and wind
Where we shared lunch so fondly together.
I dream of silly conversation in a rented car
Where you showed me the house
You were raised in
Next to the old school house you played in.
I think of the way your hair came down,
The blues of your eyes as they stared into mine
Sitting in your old but geand chair,
I can only imagine you were wondering what I had planned.
We’d walk through the graveyard with your dog
That quickly adopted me
A walk I enjoyed finding names I had never known of.
It was here that the ghosts came to me,
Black top hats and leather soled shoes
That met us, dignified with a long fur coat
Set to ward off the coming fall colours.
I dreamed here, even then,
Moreso than I do now.
I hurt then moreso than I do now,
But the sorrow is still inside
When I remember what had been
And what, in my foolishness,
Let fall softly away like the shirt I never saw you wear.