Desperation (day 2921)

Desperation never sold
So the Fair was abandoned
What went wrong with the night?
Holiday in a seabed of weeds
Natural sunlight
What’s so wrong with our age?
How could we see what we wore?
Uncomfortable and undecided
Singing our song
Dirty water and pooling at the bottom

Home (day 2715)

This is my ol’ home
Two roads lead here
Two roads take me home
Raccoons, beavers,
White tails and jays,
Red spruce, gray poplar,
Two swamps and a small creek
Can’t think of no place
No home I’d rather be
Such yearning to stay
Here at the ol’ home
‘Tis here I’ll be stayin
All ghosts know my name
Been sleeping every night
In sweet long grass
Under constellations
I know by name
Family designs
With a dog who’s as dirty
As the dirt that sets us free
South facing slope
Stage Coach remains
This is the place
I take to callin’ home
Here you’ll find me
Two roads have taken me
Two lives have led me
To this old place I’m home

No More Trees, Money’s For Me (day 2064)

It’s ok that we cut down these trees for warmth
Let’s not get upset about our mountain
Turned crater, shipped to the moon,
Our water is a good memory, a clean memory
A clean memory for my dry lips
Afraid of this purple water
Maybe my dinosaur bones will take me home
To a land full of ten year old trees
Where water flushes the land clean
No more dirty top soil: eroded,
Home where the magical golden clouds
Hover just above the skyline, stinking
And water is just slightly brown
Mycelia? No, my bill fold needs more dinosaur bones
To sink into these fresh water lakes
Chopsticks, chopsticks, chopsticks trees
Get these poles off to the mill
Down that road of rubber and oil
More dinosaur bones and I’m ready to kill
Floating at 70 miles an hour
In plastic rocket ships, towing plastic bricks
And you there, strange looking person
How many toes do you have? You’re not one of us
Your skin is funny and your smell’s different
Let me see your papers that say many things
I don’t believe you can grow your beans here
See, my dead trees and stretched metal rings
Say: ‘NO TRESPASSING’
Get out, leave us alone
You’re filling us with lies
Unless you’ve got tits, beers, football, and guns
Money’s for me, and less of you.

Intention (day 2056)

When did we lose the underground
The deep devils that wrecked things
That spray painted innocence away
And held up dirty slogans
On hand written signs
That didn’t follow general consensus.

I don’t understand you anymore
I hear words that make sense
But it doesn’t help me understand you any more
And like my shoes I found in a department store
That squeak like the others
I’m floating down easy street
With intention on my mind.

Am I this made up?
I’m growing angry at the devil’s draft
The experience I’ve left behind
Dry and balding, a sour glass
Chew me up and spit me out
Slap me with some beaver fat
I’m growing old and losing time
And I’m putting each sequence on a list
To burn up in tomorrow’s fire.

Deft Thoughts (day 1046)

I was an angel;
Struggling against purpose,
Harboring desire
Deep within action words
That you could not hear,
You could not feel,
You could not understand…
But we floated

I was an angel;
Distracting minute details
Into synchronicity,
Juggling and balancing
And crawling beside
Straight lines
Wish-washing my roads
With gravel timelines..
Dirty bloody knees

I was an angel
Singing my love-rich song
With arrows and soft colours
Diluting my expression
Like overcast clouds
On damp, dreary days.
Long words lingering on,
Left behind in old thoughts.

Projected Innocence (day 800)

I’ve lost a thought in memory
Rolling around in the dirty grounds
Muddy and scarred with obsolete treasures

I HAVE NOT PLANNED FOR YOUR HAPPINESS

This isn’t my sacred song
Dusted off as I pass over bridges
Projected innocence, searching and unmoved

I am within, locked but open
Clawing my way towards rivers edge
Forgetting the words to my only song

Insanity and the Devil (day 726)

I’m insanity
It’s nice to meet you
Can I leave on my shoes?
They’re not that dirty, really..
I’ve only trudged through hell
And the muddy banks of depression
Along the copse of Zen
And through the fields of peace

I’ve come for a spot of tea
I think it’d be nice
If we got to know each other
It’s going to be a long road, soon
And we’re better off
Being somewhat familiar with each other
To save from growing pains
Later on down the road

No cream, two spoons of sugar
Please