Tag: chaos

Inner Bird

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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.

Devilry

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I am my own frustrations
For there is no seperate
What I see
I believe
And become
So lookout.

I ride the borealis
With wild eyes and spitfire
A demon
In my heart
Runs wild
Late at night.

Now vegabonds
Now miscreants
Now misdeeds
And devilry
Now laughter
Now chaos
And discover
Who we are.

My Name (day 3209)

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Don’t ask my name anymore
It hurts me too much in my soul
My feet have begun to blister
And my eyes don’t like to open.
What day has taken my mind
Lost amidst the wind
For clouds have come and woven their way
Amidst the mustard seed sour.
Chaos and slumber collide into
A lackluster whimsical spree
Growth no longer on my mind
Spared and distant forsooth.

Dragon River (day 3135)

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Would you cross Dragon river
For an ancient vision?
A world so wild
It seems chaos,
Nothing we can comprehend.
But over there
The drink is good
So freely handed out,
And Horses sit
At card tables
Betting all or nothing again.
The Trees are big
– So gorgeously big –
They take up most the sky,
Very top of horizon!
Monkeys swing from branch to branch
Dropping sweet surprises
Onto hats passing Frolickers
In bed with Froliquettes.
Would you cross that Dragon river
To step upon the other side?
Or would you tighten up your belt
And square down your hat?

Rubble (day 2731)

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Could it be I’ve lost my way
Deep down inside the tunnel?
Or could it be a mystery
Unfolding in front of me?
Either way, I’m sure to fall
Bruise a bone or two,
Get lost amongst
What I cannot see,
And fight my way still forth:
Amongst the rubble,
Debris, chaos,
Henceforth a state of decay.

Gardening (day 2625)

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Gardening is for lovers
It is not for somebody who hates the world,
Cant stand to wait
Intermingling with chaos
In a fabric of life.
Gardening is for those who see the world,
Smell the sun,
Walk around with silent footsteps
To not scare the birds
Who sing so beautifully
For worms beneath the earth.
Gardening is for those who feel the wind,
A sweet summer lustre
Mixed with tobacco falsettos
Amongst little poplars.
Gardening is for the lovers
Who sit down side by side
And smile amidst sunflowers and cabbage
Like the silty loam soil
Made them to be.

Dusty Socks (day 2228)

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Onward my heart
To the soaring distances I’ve been dreaming here of
To the leafless gaze
The toothless grin
A window frame caught amidst a midsummer storm.

And if fractions should call against pure chaos
That leave impressions upon my spine that bends over just so
Let the memory of what has always been past
Echo longingly into the recesses of my soul,
Let winds blow my hair around and into my eyes
So that my remaining senses cannot see, cannot hear, cannot feel,
But sing like the babbling brook
That chaos has dipped her toes into.

And here I will become
A saucer for sorrows over a campfire smouldering
A spirit stung with madness so crippling
This flag that has been chosen to fly
Shall linger softly
Like the ocean breeze that watches your excitement gather
Upon smooth rocks with dusty socks
And a sealion dipping below.