Beside the pine tree I asked your name
(You said you’d jumped before)
I looked and saw deep into your eyes
No lie I heard, none to be turned
– A raven, dark as night
Glistening while watching from a perch;
A sandpiper enjoying the light breeze;
A darkened snake with golden eyes
Making a long line in the sand –
I was not lost here, no need to be found
Not very far but away.
I took the moment to touch lightly
St. John Wort growing wildly ’round
Which danced upon my heart into
A memory I never knew I had,
And there at last, under the bridge
That spoke of childish games,
I found a rock to rest upon
Tranquil from tormenting rain.
Tag: game
Vine (day 2571)
What becometh of thy games we played
Sleepless in thy night
A distant glow of heart remains
Shall find me at thy shore
Take me to thy potters wheel
Forgive me for a skeptics mind
I’m always on thy vine
And in the richness of a students heart
In the hour of thy test
Plant thy seed to sow this heart
Grapejuice upon our hands.
A Path (day 2432)
I’m not trying to let you down
No, this isn’t me leading you
This isn’t a game
Where I roll the dice,
Make the calls
And you follow
Anxiously trying to grasp
The next move
To believe you had made
The better choice.
I’m here to talk to you,
To bite first upon your supple skin
To hold your hand
As we take each other higher
Upon the path of our desires
That anxiously awaits
To share our stories,
That believes so effortlessly
We have a reason to live
In servitude for each other,
While remaining unbelievably strong
In our hearts
So we can fully grasp hold
Of our purest magnitude,
Giving freely the most valuable asset
Of my heart.
Speedball to Portugal (day 2101)
I woke up nowhere fast
Speedball to Portugal
A painful memory state
Sin on my mother name
Let’s make a peaceful game
Nineteen seventy eight
Luxury automobile
And I am filled with golden rays of sun
Nurturing my breastfeeding heart
So I didn’t check my baggage
Left my panties in my purse
Kept the door behind me open
And kissed deeply.
– afterthought –
The man I left I had become
On the road and in my head
Aeroplane has come again
Touchdown I’m not the same.
Purple Pants are Right (day 2066)
My purple pants have begun to stretch
Into what is now a rich, royal blue
My teeth, they chatter back and forth
But in this wisdom: nothing more
I propose to block these three freedoms
For they each halt my ability to capitalize
On what has always been naturally me
Now I shall usurp liberty
A statue shall fall to build a wall
And my money God, you shall learn to serve
Until too late, for the end is near
Though I shall not call all so dear
This is a game, rags and all
For my warriors shall build as I say
And my plans will overthrow each day
I will make all Right again
I will make all Great again.
Moon at Midnight – Part III (day 1977)
(part II)
When I saw it, I slowly pulled my arrow from its quiver
A practice as natural to me as walking
Without hesitation I had one full meal,
A warm meal that hadn’t been had in two days
My diet primarily consisted of berries and roots
So plentiful on this wild land
But frequently supplemented with unsuspecting small game.
Before my knife entered the belly of my meal
I thanked its Gods for their offering
For helping to sustain me on my journey
For helping to return the vigor into my body
So necessary for survival
And with every bite my heart and soul filled
With a return to this earth
And I was reborn again, new.
It is eerie the silence after a feast
Such powerful voices circling around
Escaping, collecting, gathering, burning
It’s like a dizzying kaleidoscope
Caught up in a whirlwind
Mixing with my own heart screaming so loud
I walked along in silence for quite some time
Thinking about the changing seasons
And the cold that wasn’t far behind.
It comes naturally for me as a human
To push on, push forth
Push to get to a destination known
But when I see my next camp for the night
I know it without hesitation
And sometimes it comes before
Warmth of midday sun has a chance
To burn its brightest spark
And I take off my pack, sit down crosslegged
And observe the land all around.
I learned long ago that land speaks to me,
It tells me what is behind that tree
And what is under that bush,
It shows me where to look
Before what I’m looking at is there
The land shows me how wind swirls
And leaves bend off of branches
It shows me the light tapping
Of two giants married by force
And light nutshells crackling as they fall
From heights stored in safety.
There is nothing else that is as perfect
As these moments of pure clarity
Yet behind every breath
Reins the loneliness such a journey entails
Which the heart never expects
But always knows is there
And I pulled in this deep sadness
With my breath as it flowed
Memories that showed me how to move
Like a teacher that had kind patience
As I sat as a pupil learning.
My Sweet Game (day 1950)
Remind me of the garden I’ve floated in
Tea you used to share
Your laugh to my sweet game
With history on our steppe
I could mark every book full of stars
And still your voice through halls of love
Let me lose years since it’s been
So much to wish and to share
Let us find two handsome garden chairs
As dead leaves fall Autumn around
My heart pulls home warm cups of tea
And family speaks free in your hair
Weeping Willow (day 1676)
It is with this intention
That I grow into unique
But not a unique so unique
It looses it’s physique
For lost and alone
Was never a soul
To be borne or simply left
Just lost in the lagoon
Trampling skunk cabbage
And swinging aimlessly
About low hanging branches
Of a bountiful weeping willow
To find the end to gather up
A handful of bull-rushes
That I so delicately paste
Upon the small of my back
To become my wings as I carry on
Forward and truth,
Happy New Year to all
The game is upon us now.
East Hastings (day 1539)
I watch a line slowly trace a sidewalk
Up a wide street called Hastings.
Glitter trash slipping off
Into fuzzy life lessons in a tracksuit.
I plug my nose because last nights urine party
Leaves a sour taste that makes me uneasy.
But I like the back alleys
Where life is avoided and you avoid eye contact.
Alley walls make me think.
I look at them wondering how many years it’s been
Since the last painting was applied.
How much more graffiti can be tolerated
Before a shop owner thinks they have a more alluring color.
I stay clear of crowds gathering at bus stops.
They loiter and litter,
And ask bus drivers for free fares,
Assuming they’re sober enough to acknowledge
The annoyed union worker.
I’m not afraid to lock my bike here though.
I know the game enough to know when to be walking
Hand in hand with a lover who’s [not] scared.
I know my way home and I’ve got the good places marked.
Hope and What’s Lost (day 1213)
It’s no longer a crazy game
Of hand feeding hand.
Lust is not lost and
Games never end.
But look, it’s midnight.
My eyes have become swollen
With misery and trying,
And I’m loosing the edges
Of my bitter plan
For tomorrow.
I never hoped for you,
I never crossed my fingers
And bled questions into my
Well worn Tarot cards.
Here I was lost.
No. Here I wasn’t lost,
But it was here that
I began to remember
Who had soiled these sheets
With kindness and piss.
I cannot discover pleasure
Lurking behind bass cabinets.
I cannot look any longer
Into the abyss of your eyes.