Tangle me whole –
Fraying at edges,
Confused and scarred
Sacred and empty.
Faith lasts
Yet water runs dry
And hallowed river banks
Leave tears running
Down my spine
Tangling me whole
Lifting me up and
Scraping my sides
With sandstone and thorns.
Let my ankles
Caress each meadow
And place my soul in the sky.
The weather, as I walk,
Shows me spaces left unfettered,
Spaces beyond amusement
And substantiality that fall
Along orthogonal planes
Teetering on the edges of
My leftover thoughts.
So as the weather abides
On goes my walk.
I remember when the wind blew so hard one year it would blow over our tin cups that weren’t full on the old weathered kitchen table. Our house was warm when the fire was hot, and well ventilated in the summer – we can say that. It ain’t easy being a pioneer, when the land is dry and winters are cold.
The thoughts drain my efforts, drain my life. They’re happy thoughts when you remember the past, but they’re also jagged edges that twist the time away like yesterday was my mothers hand.
There should be holes in my heart with all the bullets I’ve let go. And all the tears that I’ve cried.
This life makes a man hard before he knows how to sing. Like the twisting pines around these parts that I know each by name.
And firewood.
[note: to read the full epic track my land]
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
There I lie
Face turned towards the heavens imploring
Seeking questions
Yet written on my mind
Sun scattered eyes
Blurring crimson edges
Setting fire to
Out of focus pins and needles
Before deaths cry
Wind whispers shallow markings
On seasons frozen skin
Betraying movement
And forgotten
A heavy coat leaves
Memories
Without occupation
I feel a cry, deep beneath layers of cautious steps
One that reaches the far edges of this kingdom
From the cold North where land thaws and turns green
To the tropical South and it’s large brightly feathered birds
It’s challenging, this feeling within
It signals growth, time of change
Pushing my knowledge beyond what I feel
Into real struggles; present ordeals
I did not know this day was to come
This formidable passage of now into future
That grabs at my dreams and eats at my heart
I did not know that this time would come
They never see me
These silly humans
I lurk in the darkness
And over the fences
I find all of your
Leftover pizza
Shrimpy remains
Edges of sandwiches
And I smirk
At your sloppiness
How weakly you conceal
What you waste
Exorbitantly
Your spoils
My riches
I am laughing
In pure splendor!
Muahahaha
Francine can be purchased here.
Drifting through the streets of time
I fall over the edges of life
I whisper to the devils wings
That hover close to my leftover bread
I cry when I watch the sun go down
Perfect desperation I can never control
But loosely I dangle the stranglehold
The true release of tension
Between my staunch sober lips
Dragging out time
In a never ending hustle homeward
Perhaps it’s this thought here
That leads me into the bliss
Forgotten in a moments serenity
I’ve left nothing to spare
Perforated edges
Soaking
Indexing
Your poems that crisscross across the edges of my face
Make me feel like the angels have descended
Deep down within the glory hold of the champions heart
Sweet songs emanate out from the edges of sanity
Calling me closer to swim amongst the water lilies
The pond grows thin here, shallow waters and bright reflections
But along the other edges of my face
I see the enemy that crawls slowly closer
I remind him of the fortune that seeps down the drain
While I wash my face in the mornings hour
Now here, like the lost words of a lovers sweet embrace
Like the tiny footsteps that makeup the dust paths across the desert
I fall carelessly in pattern as I saunter along this path
I let the slow beds spoil their innocent laughter
With hands touching hands, faces touching faces
Elbows coming inwards in a bitter withdrawal
Like ghosts that see their reflection one last time
All too short and all to sweet and all too massive
Nobody can really understand that which hasn’t been told
We all feel from within the distance that doesn’t lay the crackers down
Little paths to find their way home after the soldier has been caught
Sing now in the morning of the next phase of life
Sing now as the passive monsters blow out the landscape: serene
Sing along thy empty beaches as they float on home towards the setting sun
Sing on now for the ones that hold their hands out in mercy
Crying after the last golden rays escape the tired pillow’s eyes
Holding onto the blankets that will not let go now