Watch this energy
From our moon
Rise and fall again
She comes and goes
Wiles and whims,
Which cycle is she in?
Look towards evening sky
Might you not see her tonight?
For she cycles
Twelve hours and twenty five minutes
To pull our bones
Selene of our mind.
My salt has worn off by the tongue of your frequent lick
Pressed against my open window
I have cleaned my worn out gloves
Taken my inner barrier
And longed for another song
To take me half way to there
So I could spend my time alone
Preparing for your energy
Like I would a Mountain Lion come to feast.
Inside of you was fully charged
Steel rods of conductiveness
High voltage was your energy
Electrons flowing inside of me
I felt you coming through my lines
Copper in my veins
Tickling my very spine
Capacitor of fame
I deduced every little cell
Of my lithium battery pack
Calculating all its worth
Until I had all of you inside
A shifting of the tides
Spent of you for me to spend
The root of man shall be no different
Then the root of every tree
Growing wildly as advantageous
Over rocks upon the ground.
Each mystery of a turn
Formation of a bud
Callus of a wound, deep
Shimmering in the sun.
As seasons take their tide
Summer turns to Autumn
Harvest moon howls night.
The thermometer reads -20°C
Just outside the door
I watch sunlight filter through.
Clear skies at such temperatures
Steam from my breath.
The dog still has all his energy
But my fingertips exposed
Rapidly induce the fear of frostbite
Tingling away in an odd sensation
One knows better than to ignore.
The trees cackle at the wind,
No leaves left to protect,
And snow crunches loudly under foot
As one trods across
The slippery, frozen ‘stead.
Sitting here wanting silence
Alone could I forever be?
A tree that nods, appreciates
Hear your call inside my heart.
Energy will not make me
Silence is less a mystery
And then I hear the call of mother
Who silences my broken string
And then I know each answer that
I’ve never spoken out loud.
Take my deadly eyes inside your momentary
I am here to gain histerium
Ecstasy is a widow of our sensible
Forgotten shall lay down beneath these gates at dawn
Rectify my energy into your loneliness
And persecute those with shining armor.
Skeleton shall hold my hand
Finally demons shall arise
Lifting heavy weights from boredom’s gates
And fall down deep into desire.
My faith lies in unopened bottles of wisdom
Set aside for perfect occasions,
Fermenting away like the apple cider vinegar
That cures every single one of my problems.
I make tinctures and rattle them bottles
Until sediment and health
Expels my deathly energy
That filters down through ice cubes
It’s been two years since I last heard from you,
I’ve been wondering if there’s been some trouble
Flirting the edges of your peaceful existence
I’ve always known you to have.
How is Martha? Cindy and I always chat about how lovely
Of a woman she is – and of course you are, my friend.
I frequently think back to our college days.. Do you?
Do you remember that night we sat on the patio at the Gate
And drank ourselves silly?
I think you were going downtown to some punk bar
Which I accompanied you on.
Do you remember jumping into/over that tree, down the drop?
I’m surprised we didn’t break bones doing that.
How big was that drop? Must have been about 5 feet or so..
Of course you have memories. I think we’ve talked about this before.
My heart is humble these days, perhaps it’s my inner peace,
Perhaps it’s also my slow submission towards some light.
I see that light in you when we come and visit.
Do you know what I’m talking about?
I find myself believing more and more in the spiritual world,
In listening to energy around us.. I think it’s only in my nature
To want to also influence the energy around us,
But if you ask me, this is dangerously close to necromancy.
Well, that or being God.
We’ve never talked about God before. What is your God?
Hope all is well my friend. I look forward to hearing from you.
Your ol’ friend,