I sank,
For reality was cruel;
No longer sheltered
By my own silence
At length
My breath was taken
And turned cruel
Against my will
While rain drowned
My sober thoughts,
Sprouting angst
One leaf at a time
Tag: breath
Never Anarchy Love (day 1045)
It’s never the end all
The catch your breath
And look back a second time.
It’s never anarchy,
Two bits vying for love.
It’s a death trap,
And Boris is dead.
We aren’t the restless,
We’re the owners:
Ruthless and cheap.
Talking back and rigging it,
Cheap thrills and lose tongues
And leaving worthless, spent.
Cause I’m not alive
– Horribly penniless –
Missing all the good times.
I walk with arms open
For your outstretched revolution
To move my soul.
To catch me
To look back and
For all my breath, moments
Stretched into life and death.
Silent Valley (day 1025)
In the valley below
Your silence was my breath,
Agony was misunderstanding;
My stranger was your flight.
Decorate My Lapel (day 1016)
If we don’t lose it all
Then how much do we lose?
Knot worn and grumpy,
En-sensed long and tall,
A scapular in my heart,
A devil to my breath.
Where wicked thoughts laughter
Knees into our death;
My agony shelters fluttered beats
From wisdom setting free.
Decorate my lapel
Like honey in my hair,
18 mistakes I’ve made;
Black beckons fate.
Letters smudging fade,
Discourse setting deep,
Concubine’s white cotton leather
And my divine.
Dainty Little Pixies (day 1010)
Could law we broke figuratively
Demand our justice?
Like clippings sealed in thick books
Observing penance,
Freely battling justifications
And counting down days until extinction.
A cold winter’s breath blows
While a dainty little pixie dances
Towards destruction’s edge.
Flirting with every step,
Every essence of being,
Until fluttering about in a daze;
Imploding into decay
Current’s Edge (day 990)
I walk my freedom with long bold steps
– Passionate about underlying rocks,
Saturated in air; fluid, full, exhilarating –
To my captures edge: sin and sorrow.
“DEFINE MY PATH!” From the tops of my lungs,
Knocking at doors of suffering madness
That tied these knots upon my bare feet.
It’s a long walk along hurt’s path,
A long breath to hold, withdraw,
With destiny, located amidst rubble.
It’s a long walk to freedom,
Blistering sores and stained reason.
Along my gall’s edge I protest,
Along gall’s edge I step,
And in this path I do not quiver,
I do not shake with torrent sadness,
For to my edge [my sin and sorrow],
I stare with will, my choice and I,
Into the void, my current’s capture,
And let flow from the tops of my lungs.
Night’s Delicate Dance (day 976)
Maybe we balanced our cross-hairs when we sent our whispers into night’s air.
A long, hollow howl,
A song to our own dainty ears,
Wishing for night to tarry while bringing us sleep
Footsteps reaching horizons edge, so evenly spaced so late in the day.
How did we manage,
How many words were pure thoughts,
Lingering ’bout our hesitant breaths like foxglove in the summer.
My moon silhouetted your name-sake tree, standing afar tall and proud.
Bloodline crawls down stony steps to waters edge,
Breaking off into still, deep black abyss
Waiting to find another whisper.
A Love Poem To Myself (day 971)
This is a love poem to my own self,
All hairy and indulgent and breathing rapidly.
Because from the tips of my toes
To wisps upon the back of my neck
From the shape of my beak
To the curvature of my idle fingers
I am in love.
Constant thoughts that flutter through
Idle spaces of my mind
Keep my constantly occupied
With being me.
I love that it’s a gear
– Never ending clockwork –
Cycling through unidentifiable patterns
Undeniably grand
Our late night plans are always the finest
Delicacies like chocolate, popcorn,
And maybe even corn nuts
Fill up my dreams, the happy times
Times I spend my other time
Working towards expanding
Stretching it out so that even
Crunching noises become ecstasy
So my love, my true romance
It is my utter pleasure
To be yours forever.
Your breath is my breath,
Your thought is my care,
Your bend is my fold,
You are me, forever one.
Vancouver (day 932)
This city is turning into a love affair
Vancouver, saturated still pullin’ for more
Romance so deep it cuts as the thorn sews
Addictive in the Audrey Hepburn
Black and white kind of way
As if every breath I take leaves trails
Tracing my journey from lover’s edge to lover’s gaze
Big obscene button’ed-up and felted with a liner
Concealing secret pockets holding prohibition’s decision
With unnecessarily charming courtesy
Waiting around the thick-rimmed leather-soled sidewalk corners
As if I should recognize you
I should know that warm gaze and coy smile
Playing with my fancy as I bow
Making my way forth
Arm in arm with another happy day I’ll write home about
Chronicling my romantic love affair
With this lovely city, Vancouver
The Sapling and I (day 919)
Windy meadows that long ago
Were stripped of all their life:
Elegant firs, long needled pine
And birch that peels around.
They’ve all been reaped
Into a heap;
Grinding and turning
Paving and spreading
Strip malls and sidewalks.
All in the name of progress.
In belief of and for
Settlers heading west.
But where was I at these round tables
Where was my voice of reason?
Was I asked for my steady thoughts
To protect our mother’s children?
For now I am to blame.
Here to suffer
To pull at breath and
Leave my anguish at the door;
Kick off my factory shoes,
Step into my factory warmth,
And yawn my factory toil.
I am not anymore the savior sun;
A strong branch upon a tree
Deep within the forest.
But I am a sapling reaching up
Into the sky above.
A sign of life, natures life:
An orb of sweet Gaia
