Moon at Midnight – Part XXI (day 1995)

part XX

At first it was hard to communicate with Willow
But we were inseparable
And we learned each other’s words
That helped us communicate
And what we lacked in spoken word
We made up for in body language
I hadn’t known many women in my time,
More familiar with an axe and squirrels,
But I learned Willow every way I could.

I learned how she hummed almost inaudibly
Before she woke me up
Dancing her fingers lightly over my sleeping body
As if they were sunlight
Warming my mind to the day;
I learned how her eyes looked shocked and innocent
When she couldn’t understand the words
I would excitedly share with her;
I learned her various routines
That announced each changing rhythm of the day;
I learned how much of a teacher
She was to Lily
Taking every moment she could to share
Her wisdom to her only child
With just the right enough patience
Matched with enough urgency
To encourage the blossoming child
To remember the things she must to survive.

I learned how she played with me
And laughed at my seriousness
She would push me to delay
In spots I hadn’t noticed in my hurry
Instantly draining whatever burden
I had riding about my shoulders
I learned her mischievous smile
When she would want me as her lover
And how she would lose all control
As she leaned her head back to my caress
Eager to remain entwined
Lost in the clutches of love.

Lily’s eyes would always grow larger
When she observed moments of our love
I knew that her adolescent crush
Wouldn’t let her sleep at night,
When Willow and I would share our passion
She seemed happier
Clearly part of her mothers spirit
That always sought to see happiness
In those around her
She would help as we learned to communicate as a family
Each playing a guessing game
That we became very accurate at
The more we learned each others’ rhythms.

part XXII

Prometheus (day 1437)

Prometheus our heart,
You showed us your soul,
You showed us our folly
In our path: onward, ho!
And for what did reward
Thee heart and thee mind?
Endless prosecution
From our God of all Gods.
Zeus was your torment,
But you were our soul,
Our undying hope.
When we see a child
Hold a fresh picked flower,
When we see a dog with
Its destined companion,
When we see a sun rise
And the ocean flow,
When we see a bird fly
It’s to you who we owe.
Yet here in our busy times
We’re found looking out
Past our new ways,
Our new law,
Our new fashion,
Into eyes of distraction.
And to thee we forget;
Purely unjust in reward.
Until one final bow
My dear Prometheus,
May your sacrifice be for blessings
Upon your soul, mind and health.

Ashram Day 3 (day 1406)

Rain has a tendency to wash away all thought,
To make tomorrow clean and unmistakeably fresh.
Somewhat similar to every morning,
When waking up,
To accept daylight as if a young child;
New life and chance upon a path
Joined together with some answers,
Some direction,
And much more desire and openness
To find the next step forth.

As tears roll down sunlight’s fingers,
Only self can find shade
To silence what always will be
Into motionless innocence
That plays along the shore
With buckets full of sand.

Unforgiven (day 1201)

I cannot be unforgiven.
I cannot untie the lesions
Fluttering around pickaxes
Tickling my mind.
I am an unborn, mon amis,
A shackling wreck
Anchoring my finer points
To big firs and pines.
I am a fascinated child
Playing footsie with a wench,
Smiling shyly.

I cannot be unforgiven.
I cannot backfire my heart
And pickle rabbits in garlic water.
I know I’m one letter flying,
B and my C tiger,
Loading box spring mattress sets
Into Ford Ranger pickups.

I cannot be unforgiven
Selling chanterelles,
Those spicy succulent fungi,
To slightly unhealthy social workers
That pick-pocket Pez dispensers
Out of working hard pre-teens.
This mattress does not fly,
These firs do not bend,
This wench does not grin,
And I am not fickle.

Brown Candy (day 1043)

Your brown candy side part pulls at my edges
Leaving my manicured innocence clenching;
Reasonable drip sensing dilated pupils.

Pull into my senses you heart beating faster

Music rolls onward like wheels on the road
And I watch you, young brazen child,
Waiting for a spill on isle two

My tall, naked, and empty cup sits lonely

Please push your digital devices
A little closer to the edge
I’d like to have more space please

Tables always wobbly, clean, but wobbly and full

Cold patrons wander in stomping off the dew drops
I observe the wind blowing the black and white parquet awning
Where I unplug and vacate my window seat

Just Begun Child (day 489)

Head is spinning like a diamond mine
Two glory ants fighting for the right to live
Albeit dead the sun that chooseth to fry the salmon
Slowly searing on the open pit fire
Chances are I will regurgitate up the sense
I’ve swallowed along with my pride
I’ve nurtured while walking away high stepping
So where do I turn to?
What global recompense do I take as my locked in target
Doomlessly sulking away in the corner
Stuffed with fattened steaks and greasy fries
Catch your coattails upon the swinging chair
And you will find it takes you for a ride
Let alone the low rider, hipster-icized
Did you have to bend over to get such awesome headphones?
Watch your step as the clock attacks you from behind
Lassos your bleeding pride and surrenders your soul
Catches your falling pride and prepares a feast
Don’t lie down now, the game has just begun child