Amidst (day 2992)

I feel the river never ends;
Long winding staircases
Of mossy rocks and exposed roots,
Craigs and juts and ferns so full,
Over and around it goes.

I feel the distance is all the same;
Each step a galaxy
Lost into mycelium
Softened by depth of lichen,
A tangle of Gaia’s webbing.

I feel the air is more dense now;
Little sweat drips
Against breath stirring easily,
Amidst dancing ents and forgotten witches
Softly reminding me.

Hill (day 2951)

And so I came to the hill
Wrapped in all things
Left here to dry, to weep and cry
To spell out long letters
To those last glimpses of my truth
Who have left the last marks
Ravaging the little beasts
Smoking atop the hill so crested.
And then it began to drip down
Along the side of my being
Gooey globs of scent infused
Suffering that made me stop,
Gaze uncontrollably
At the giant drops of passion,
And remember how far
I still have to go
For I think I have a hill to climb.

Dripping Windowpane (day 2639)

Windows wrapped me in a blanket
That left the world to drip
Each and every sorrow leaf
To have you again,
That made me ask ten thousand questions
To keep me first at last free.
For inward I shall breathe again
– Resting upon your shoulder –
That wraps me up to warmth
Escaping down each line I draw
Dripping windowpane.

Dripping Lines (day 1432)

I’m dripping lines in space: undefined,
A long list passed around and
Checked at each and every gate.
Wings have spaced my heart apart
From that which never fails to start.
Allow my breath to quicken here
Into a lens aligned to stars,
Which, unlike reopened gifts to her
Carry ethereal makers marks,
I spent my last dollar here,
And now I’ll gather my things and leave.

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

Goodmorning, Mother Nature (day 745)

Your delicate drops
That drip about my window
Waking my slumber
Shaking my cobwebs
Keep rhythm for me

My heart finds
Its speed again
While curious crawls
Across steaming
Bits of wooden jungle

Sun beckons
Warming exposed skin
Like uncurling leaves
Surviving off stray beams

Feathered fellows
Sing one another
Delightful passages
Freshly reciting
For days full of life

And you say to me

Back and Forth (day 446)

So then as I glazed over my gritty resolutions to reek no more mayhem
The adolescent monster inside of my thickening skull began to itch
Screaming out louder as the ticks on the wall began to lurch forward
I could not resist the urge to plunge in head over heels like a bat outa hell
Flying with rage I ran with all my strength, hands flailing in the air
Through all the cobwebs and lashing out at the unseen ghost
Darkness had begun to surround me, increasing the hysteria
And all too soon I was flickering, dazed in a pool of disturbia
Like a lone lightbulb hanging from an empty room swinging back and forth

Back and forth. Back and forth.

I tumbled dryly in a heap of exhaustion
Not quite sure what had just come to pass
The sweat on the back of my neck told me it was good
But the throbbing in my hands told me that tomorrow would hurt like hell
I could hear the slow drip from some unknown source in the other corner
It’s labored breath hinted that I wasn’t alone in destruction
My eyes failed to focus on the distance, spinning as they were
All I could do was sit there, head against the cold brick wall
Hands by my side slowly fingering the cold stones I sat upon

Back and forth. Back and forth.