To Not Feel (day 2974)

Why am I condemned to something I cannot feel
I cannot arise
For in gold there erodes depths of cast
My hands have dried and begun to fade.

There is something that has grown
Not allowed to pursue
A lingering touch held too long.

Without light
Day at once ends
Cold sets in
Song remains silent
Heart enters slumber.

My Dog, My Pal (day 2935)

I felt you in the rain
Streaming down my cold face
Remembering how you cried.
We had always spoken
Every morning and every night
How time passes what now feels.
It wasn’t there that I lost you,
Nor could I have held you tight,
It was the night that I remember
I looked into your eyes.
Sleep came soundly
But awoke with quite a start,
A sadness I had left you
Always be my dog, my pal.

Dogs (day 2928)

I’m going to crawl out sideways
Like I’m carrying a hard edge
My rhythms backbit the scene
So I was ongoing madness descended
No matter the words that I spoke
Two syllables released my mouth
Gravelling and loosening
With a steel shovel reminding me
That a cold soup is awaiting my return
And a method of grandeur
Has gone forbidden and exhausted
And dormant as dogs fall down.

Cold Stream (day 2792)

When the wind blew at my door
There I was standing tall
I saw the drifts of snow gather
I heard the poplars clack together
And deep within my cooling heart
I heard a groan so vivid
It symbolized the burden laid
At the foot of my days toil
It symbolized ice cold water
Gathered at the stream
And every step upon
Frozen soil with a cold shovel
It symbolized the sweat that broke
Each sinew in my back
To which I closed my eyes tightly
Forehead resting on the window
Wind blowing at my door

Growing (day 2783)

I don’t walk with a swagger
I’m not a callused hand
I don’t wish for stars
Or four leaf clovers
I sing with a guitar that holds a tune
But my voice is held under water
In a rusty tin can
So I sleep in a cold corner
With a sore back on my side
I run out of gas
When I’m driving too fast
And my knives all go blunt
So my pencils aren’t sharp
But I’m still trying hard
To grow something again

Sworn (day 2781)

I don’t want you to remember me
When you see daylight searching
Over twilight’s shoulder,
I want birds to scream bloody murder
Through their washed out faces
Long callused like knots
Grown out from tree trunks.
I want you to document my every step
That lives deep in the mud
Like you would document a nightmare
Scared of even breathing
For danger it would incite the demon
You most feared.
I don’t want you to remember me
For in your memory, icy cold
Shall rest my name, sworn.