I have lost my edges in a red racer
I leaned out too far
Forgot a weekend of fun
Down a long dirt road
I didn’t think had much luck.
This is turning into a solo trick
Dancing with midnight
Of an half empty glass
Melting in the tune of E flat.
But wind blows through trees here,
Heavens sing here,
And visions keep reminding me
I’m not a poor man anymore
I’ve left my home and I’m moving on
Down another dusty road home.
Tag: glass
Dusk (day 2158)
This is the spark that sets seed
A jubilant setting free
A sunset beyond every sea
With a new day the grain that grows.
And if each sign these clouds do point
Expose a pasture fit for rose
Should a foot that heals the earth
Lay thin dust that bitter burns?
Nay, each dusk a seat be found
To hold each glass, a little worn
A ritual many should be warmed
At last, sweet moon, a gray cocoon.
Intention (day 2056)
When did we lose the underground
The deep devils that wrecked things
That spray painted innocence away
And held up dirty slogans
On hand written signs
That didn’t follow general consensus.
I don’t understand you anymore
I hear words that make sense
But it doesn’t help me understand you any more
And like my shoes I found in a department store
That squeak like the others
I’m floating down easy street
With intention on my mind.
Am I this made up?
I’m growing angry at the devil’s draft
The experience I’ve left behind
Dry and balding, a sour glass
Chew me up and spit me out
Slap me with some beaver fat
I’m growing old and losing time
And I’m putting each sequence on a list
To burn up in tomorrow’s fire.
Knee Jerkin’ Jamboree (day 1942)
This sunshine in my sky so high,
Oh Lordy, sit down and sing me a song today
I’ve got little dancers raising glasses in my heart
And the whole town’s coming down
For a good ol’ knee jerkin’ jamboree!
Have you thought about bees on a Sunday?
Bending fullness of a flower top
Slowly wrinkling it’s cheeks saying: ‘Hi!’
Waving lazily in the afternoon sky
Cause Oh Boy! I’ve sure got some cheer!
You know, I sure know this old barn door,
And today there’s nothing more I could want;
Squeaky hinges and drying wood,
And the smell of it all goin’ back to earth.
What’s happening to my soul? It’s a damn good day.
Down Turned Reverberations (day 1912)
You know, it’s ok.
It doesn’t matter that the sky seems to fall when you stretch your eyes wide at the beginning of a new day. It doesn’t matter that the tangle in your heart matches the tangle of your long, curly, brown hair drooping about your itchy nose as you fling from side to side with a worn out cactus shirt reaching down to the same legs you rest your morning coffee on.
I’ve found a reason that doesn’t rely on these silly momentary things. I’ve found the silk road, pock marked by moths with an unsettling history that left a lot of sad pages in the brown covered diary I’ve never re-read. I’ve begun to maneuver this silk pressing just as I would walking through busy streets or desert, dry mouthed and heart fleeting as beats reverberate off of every single thought.
It’s ok.
It’s a revolution that cannot get taken away, it’s the dull side of a newly sharpened axe. How many rows have you planted to become the star lit sky we all look up to; arms are better for hugging then the cold glass walls modern giants embed their soldiers within.
You’re not the only one with down turned memories of what we could never see, never hear, never even share from the distance we watch each other from – but our morning smells seem to remind us of nothing but the closeness we have; but evening silence is a feeling we so easily forgive.
It’s ok, and I’m never really very far.
Full (day 1669)
I waited up to see my full moon
Shining through my full glass
Satiating my full desire
Hidden deep within my full belly
And kept warm in my full house
Decked full of surprises
For a full celebration
About this full Christmas tree
We’ve emptied of life.
Sunglasses Eyes (day 1598)
This is a liberty bell
Frolicking in the grass
With wicker glass bottles
And those sunglasses eyes
That parquet their way
Over unbeaten trails
And itchy noses
To a checkerboard picnic blanket,
Kisses on her mind
And a hand down her skirt.
Necromance (day 1523)
How can hallmark decay such strength
That whips about this storm?
A glass amongst dewy grass
Strays memories into this ‘bow.
I have called out to where I’m deeply lost,
I have called to whom I’m sold,
I have called upon a Prince
That left me floating in a sea,
Upon a piece of pixie dust
That was soaked into a cube.
Laying ‘mongst the willows in
A lost state of reverence,
A charmer came and held my snake
And fed me necromance.
Sunset Swim (day 1492)
Horizon-scape
Reflecting glass
Refreshing serenity
Santa’s Merchant (day 1306)
Window shopping down an alley in Hell
The Keeper found one perfect device for all’s demise.
It spoke to him through double paned and tinted glass
Covered with festive snowflakes and cheer.
It sat beside the fat Santa and eight reindeer,
Each one much smaller than Santa himself.
And two cute little stuffed mice that squeaked as he stood there
Calculating and eyeballing the end of it all.
It wasn’t until the merchant smiled
And waved The Keeper on in
That he realized it hadn’t just been him watching in,
But destiny and patience had laid this plan many snowfall ago.
And all he had to do was smile
As the jolly merchant carefully wrapped
The perfect device into an old newspaper
And taped the loose ends together
Before he kindly asked: “Cash or credit, Keeper?”