Slave’s Still Fight

I am immense
And stuck
And broken in my battle;
Giants tearing trees
And Titans throwing boulders.

How do I convey my meanings
When I am unreasonable
Living inside a dream
Of everyone’s meaning well.

Does my habit become your habit?
Do I lose myself into you?
Does my soil sprout many plants?
Can I hope to grow with you?

For my beast of rage
Within my deep breaths
Is evermore, everclear,
And hoping for more tomorrow
For my heart fights back
My heart fights for freedom
In a change
That cannot grow faithfully
To the slave of a great wrong.

Time Spells by Fragments

Time has begun to fragment:
Lost time, woven time
Shared time, alone time.
Time better spent,
And time well spent.

Time’s fingers tap
My beat
And scratch raw
Skin beneath my beard,
Transfixed upon
Scaling multiples
Woven as fabric
That erases
What was written
Upon Season’ blackboard.

Yet still,
No time spell has taken
My tomorrows
Nor my todays,
Just my dreams
– Idle as I may exist.
Time shifts
And I shift
Though no spell broken
Save that of waking
Amidst time’s fragmented
Importance
And I, lost
Spending my time well.

Forgiveth

I am moody
I’m the gravel inspiration
Of a moonlit breath
Standing naked against
Each whispering hallow
Deep within consciousness,
Though cackles be heard.
And here I stand,
Abreast the fight
Holding a heartache
That’s dazed
But still conscious
With an armful
Of medicine
Tunneling out the holes
I havent made time
To mend yet.
Oh, how art forgiveth.
How loose
Can these boundaries be?
How can thy closing eyes
Retreat once into dream
Twice into heavens,
With hardly a thread
Seperating this moment
And to their’s.

Another Vision

I want to take on a new vision
One where this doesn’t exist
None of this exists
Everything is different.

I sit here in darkness
A dream room
Slightly out of center
Upon a small patch
Of well used rug
Reminiscing on moments
Of movement
How it integrates
Asking myself what is important
So that I can keep
Peace of mind
Peace in my pipe song.

My mind dances
My soul ignites
My senses tingle
Slight breeze
Upon my naked chest
But my blood remains
Pounding deep within my heart
So that I can hear
Each word I cannot speak.

This is my vision
And it escapes
A misunderstood truth
That was lost
As roads paved their way
Across a land
That was not land to be paved.
How many years lost?
Death of a mind,
Visions forgotten,
Self elapsed,
And me, left alone
Upon each moment of dark
A life vanishes
In preparation
For another to take time
Away from a no-one home
Of another vision.

Then as smoke erupts
Stepping stones
Take their heart
Into a vision
That holds tall grace
Of an ancient spruce
Standing in my heart
So I can be forever
And gone
Un-vision.

Fighting For A Softer Edge

If you give me a softer edge
I will believe in your touch
For in the grasp
Of a summer day
I remember all these dreams
And I can hear the buzz
Of the honey bee
Singing in my ear.

But if the edge continues to hone
I’ll find my sharpness cutting knots
Deep within my root stricken back
Holding me to gnarly strength.

I am the fire
Should I be struck
For I awake within my heart,

I am the dirt
That crumbles with
A slipping fist no longer clenched
No longer fighting back.

Palms (day 3204)

What brings the soul of a man
Deep within the palm of his hand?
For I have seen two men astray
Neither I tried to save.
In the grace of our Gods
We stand before each war we fought
Did we strike the hammer strong
Or lose out before our lungs
Belted loud our souls devout.
Have I faced the pain inside?
Did I let my body cry?
Was it I who charged ahead
Though each wind spoke up in dread?
Tell me sweetly in my good ear
Was I faithful to each your dream
Can I be the trusted man
Of your every step?
For I hold my palms open
To feel the warmth of every day
I have spoken out your name
In hopes it leads my heart so true
And if it shall bring my life astray
May I be the man to say
My palms are wet.

Un-Changed (day 3138)

When the wild worlds awoke
A thunderous cackling was heard
Mystics remained calm
But civilians, no they ruptured
Into the great wide open hands
Of the Gods they revered.
Some, well, some squandered their money
Buying useless diplomas and
Servitude obligations.
Some fell to darkness with devices
Emitting radioactive lights
And chaotic beeping.
Some fell into wildness
Like the river in Spring
Bounding over freshly fallen trees
And moss so thick
It became a cloak for their own dreams.
There was no end promised
To the deafening roar,
No scientific projection
Or mathematical calculation
That could speak for the Gods
Who had thus become maddened.
And in the end,
Well, there was no end
For it was never signaled,
Never announced over loudspeaker
Like each modern God so famed to do,
It was subtle, and thus remained unchanged.
It was the civilians
Who had changed, too busy caught up
To notice that they had changed
And what they had changed for
Had long since been gone away.

Path (day 3121)

Did you think about the path
That took your shoes
From there to here?
Pebbles and roots
That touched your feet
And gave you
Little messages
That reminded you of a dream.
I woke today
With my clear dream
Where I watched
The ball of your foot
Circulate through
The forest so calm
And every step
That you took
Brought you silently to me.