My Heart is a Lemonade (day 1336)

Whisper to me in silence until rain forever stains.
I want to hear what your heart cannot speak;
I want to let bumps upon my thickened skin
Wash away with lines of another chance.
Wishes of a heart that came and never thence remains.
I can live here for as long as my number remains the same,
Until my idle thoughts formulate
What figures my fingers are much to scared to trace.

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Don’t Betray Your Love Letters (day 1109)

Don’t betray your love letters,
Long scrawls of ball pointed confessions.
Amnesty holds my widowed fingers:
A hearts feverish clutches
Tied loosely to my bangled neck piece.
This is my lover’s heartbeat,
This reverberation about the floorboards
Awakening the lone-hawks
Circling high above
In sensible entrapment.
I am insensible like a lone wolf
Howling at moonlit stargazers.
My memories don’t betray my written love letters,
[Eyes praying on weakened soul]
It’s always my intention to be true.

Transition From Hurt to Love, and then Back Again (day 1092)

..And there were golden letters.
[Can I finally tell you?]
Like streams lapping mossy brooks,
To which my gloss rolled over.
In spite my anarchy,
My self propulsion…
Towards your grace.
I left slipping,
Jumping to and fro
Unto my broken jaw,
Lifelessly turning me over
Into airbrushed aluminum oxide.
Geometrically tracing
My bloodless sorrow
Into triangles
[Non-conducive triangles]
That weaved my sorrow
Into perfect pitches
[Acute pitches]
Hallowing my desire
Into five unspoken pledges,
Five needle point succulents
Layering my borders
Like foggy rolling alcoves
Set deep amongst
Cool summer’s afternoon
Wheeping willow rushes
– faint memories about this seascape –
But my layered angles sheltered me
From petty hearts that soothed me
To make my sleepless nights
Ever lonely, evermore.
A riddle I can’t play just so.
But lighting candles
That broke into my bedroom
And watched my brow quiver
As morning wretched it’s yawning
About the dusty trails,
I traced an even pathway
In triangles, forever faster
Until my morning had at last come
Filled with ancient rhythm.
Eyes so better clearer
Than one thousand lenses focused
On a heart so muddy [clearer].
I held onto my breath
Until anxious had subsided,
For I could not remember
What words had come before it.
And in such built excitement
A heart did flutter on,
Lost but not forgotten
Into books of golden letters
– Bound with broken arrows –
That felt so narrow holding
Pieces of leather’d sorrow
[Remember bloodless triangles]
That wept a stainless trail
From deep within desperation
Into worn hands of a savior
Who whittled out a triangle
To feed alotted perscriptions
With ever nimble fingers
Soaked in rosé water
And dried with ancient scrolls
Written in a forgotten language
That told of a lost soul
Who pledged a life to quill
Written in golden letters
And tied with broken arrows.
Words he’d lost to scrolls.
A heart he’d bled for food scraps
To feed his lifeless voodoo doll
Filled with needled pin holes
And scarred with a single triangle
Between worn out eye holes.
And written just below it
In tiny golden letters
Was ‘dia de la muerte’,
And the eyes all turned to sun
That grasped their holy language,
Blinding them to forgiveness
In smokeless trans-am tires
With a golden eagle flying.
This was not the end of stardust,
Not a burning pledge for Satan,
Not midnight’s showdown in dusty boots.
This was the last redemption hour,
A stained wedding gown and laughter.
And two boots made of leather
Tied tight with broken arrows,
Tracing triangles in the dirt
At gun points scary tremor.
Written neatly in a book
In perfect golden letters
Signed only with a triangle.

Love Steps (day 1029)

What does it take to love you?
What does it mean to hold your heart?
Like a delicate silk perfectly folded
Into five evenly spaced sides
Without creases.

What kind of fingers dance, prance
About sticky honey-buckles?
Long strands of hair into the deepness of my soul.
For forever was a long drive
Straight West into sunset’s romantic heart.

What kind of foot pierces clear waters of a hidden brook?
What does the water taste like
After it drips off your tentative toes
Recoiling into giggles, riddling squirrels
Into silence.

Exactly 29 Times (day 988)

Mystically speaking, the proverbs are relating accurately;
Horizontally strengthened with the thinnest of threads
Circled around my baby finger exactly 29 times
In a very tightly strewn pattern, accidentally.

Insomniac. Running at top speeds with wild horses;
That old farmhouse sitting amongst poppies and buttercups
Where I’ve lived once before; a feeling from depths unexplainable
Leveraging it’s way amongst modernities.

So it was a callused palm that broke this frozen spell;
Alone upon a park bench of inner city, inner beauty,
Brook bubbling by with homeless and suits (much quicker)
An eye awoke to stretch it’s glorious wings wide.

To which I had never encountered before;
To who I had never held hands with before;
To where I had never stepped in and amongst before;
To here, to this home of a quietly broken fear.

Berlin - 25062012 (42 of 51)

Sharing Midnight (day 915)

Like it already has
I am on my ride
Through world by night
Where I glide, glide, glide

Spinning and whirring
And fabrics of gravity
Dancing, her fingers
Delicate to my touch

Sweet sips of laughter
Delightfully close
Who art thou?
Nay, why art thou not nearer

To the street
Brightly aglow
Feelings of danger
Renewed sense of triumph

Can you not hold me?
Ah-hah! There’s passion!
There is the fire,
Trust thrust from within

And by the midnight hour
Sweet sounds through darkness
Ecstatic dance, dance, dance
My fingers hold bliss

To my greedy eyes
Linked with your greedy urges
To your greedy eyes
Pulled by my greedy love

To a galactical quadrant
An octahedral ecstasy
Linking of energies
Indulged in pure essence; avail to no end