Tag: ground

Old Entrance Door

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What is wrong with crumbling ground
Dirt building up and softening corners
As messages to my former youth.

I met a truth I should have known
Though long ago I had forgotten then
Stolen by a bass kick drum.

Trim around my old entrance door
Has worn a little more since,
Stars still there to light my heart.

Don’t let me see it
Or I’ll run away with my low E chord
When this silence is unbearable.

Cracks again begin to open up
Time can test and I’ll whistle along
Nail and hammer I’ll carry on.

Shut Down (day 2929)

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It is hard to know
When to shut down,
When to turn away
From this machine.
One becomes
All consumed,
All stuck on the tool.
But then,
At long last,
A little inkling
Draws one on away,
Like warming of a fire
To take to rest
To take to work
To take the mind
To physical
And find what has been lost
Out on the ground
Nature’s finest mess
A bivy full of uncharted.

Rock Picking (day 2873)

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We scowered fresh cut grass
For uncovered rocks to pick
Hidden boulders ‘midst the ruff
Half sunken in disguise
Some so deep, so gargantuan
More than 5/6 buried hard
That one must scratch and dig
To get a good firm hold
And then with all one’s greatest might
Pull and pull some more
So that at last
A fissure developes
Besides the edge of rock
Back and forth some more one grinds
Loosening up the stubborn stone
Until at last, triumphantly
Emergent from the ground!

Saddened Parts (day 2854)

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Each saddened part of me that looses you
Slowly falls to the ground;
Anarchy amongst my body parts,
One for one is what it’s called.
There are no cryptic memories,
Just scribbled pages of a book
Bent at the corners and stained oily grey
That clearly show a worn use
Only my friendly pair of shoes could wear.
The manner at which each part falls
Leaves no question in my heart
Rummaging my old box stored away
I’ve left to dust beyond.

Root of Man (day 2853)

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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
Transformational energy
Harvest moon howls night.

Enslaved (day 2828)

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Moral resources grow stronger
The more thy soul does learn
Envision what this destiny
Could look like all around.

For in the skies, no longer streaking
Would be what Heavens divine,
No act of God unspoken for
That lacked full consciousness.

Upon the ground, each footstep taken
Would be of a more focused breadth,
One that swept with kindness, outward
Approaching the day with care.

Amidst the air would be pure waves,
No abstracted vibrations lost in space,
Each word so designed for to reach our neighbour
So kindly thought and presented.

Our eyes would see true meaning
So that no deceit could enter near,
No vagabond, no trickster magician
Could spread fear we didn’t know.

Yet depth amidst our pure resource
Grows weaker every day,
Though we know what kind can create
It falls away: enslaved.

Ground (day 2777)

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I am the age of an ancient warrior
Inspect me from the ground
Grind my bones to dust around
That build you a new throne
Take me to Olympia
To seek ritual truth
Take me from the goats up high
To bury me in sound
Fashioned from steel and stones
Forever in the ground

Pencils (day 2651)

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Tracked time to lose myself
Two pencils and a measure
Which broke down each snapped line
Dull blades and drill bits.
Like settled dust
The wind blew over untacked down recycling
Snow began to fall
And the ground I had become familiar with
Turned hard and markedly frozen