Looking For This (day 3035)

I am looking for this.
All of my efforts and truths
Are running in parallel with my actions.
I am calling to my inner self,
Feeling my bones rumble
At each swing I make,
Splitting my observations into fragments
That live long in the hearts of men
Who come and sit and talk.
Yet this action has no idle,
It bears resemblance to sweat
Breaking the cloth in toil,
For when the sun rises in the East,
Each drop of frost rises
Like the man I am looking for.

Looking for This by Ned Tobin

Saint (day 3002)

I want to be the Saint that took you there
Walk along the sea, tightly held
Memories for me at the edge
Grand opening of what I want to become.

There’s a secret you’ve shared with me
Uncommon in its every breath
And I can hold you amidst
Setting sun and morning rise.

Make it home so I can see
Special, this touch you share
Welcoming me, sweetest treasure
A drop in my clarity.

Looking For Hope (day 1690)

From lines dragging down my wrists
I observed patience in a drop,
Dripping from my pointed forefinger
That rummaged odd bits discarded into
An old tin box.
I was looking for hope,
But instead found rusty nails
That left ocre upon my calloused tip,
Long ago since numb.

Dumping the remains onto the desk, I read out loud the words
That had been etched into the underside
By an uneven hand:
These words sounded hallow,
And my thoughts once again followed
My wrists lines dripping
Onto the desk where an empty cartridge
Slowly rolled back and forth.

A Horticulturalists Dream (day 1161)

Summer air and little drops
That puddle jump night to sleep.
From every lair come out great worms
Slithering through fresh mud.
Slugs depart on epic journeys
Across deep dark blacktop oceans.
And as all things growing
Most desire
Freshness from great rains,
Morning brings what can be called
A horticulturalists most desirable dream.

A Hand Shake (day 807)

I’ve been the leftover
The gimme-gimme gone
Got you by the balls in the halls

Give it or not
Lost, blown in the end
A dream or a thought
Give it away, give it away, give it away

Now drop.
Let the groove hold your hands
Flow through the night
Through the eyes and the eyes of the eyes; high

See me, see the glow in these these
See the chance
Buckets fallin’ under heavy, heavy
Drops of pure bloods truth

I’m havin’ attacks
Straight to the heart
Like a shak-a-shak-a-shak
Bare chested at the moon, OWWWW

So it’s the way that we love
It’s the get it, get it
Get it all packed in the black Jones tall
Lost souls holding out

My bodies been around
Shuffled down long gray gray walls
I’ve been the guilt, the reconcile

But I’ve learned you are the shift
The give it t’me, give it t’me
Give it t’me with leftovers
Drop. You’re here

[note: best read at 91BPM]