Let’s flash the stars
In morse code
Let them know the news
Let them become the guardians
Whom we bestow our trust.
Let our days become lust filled hours
Awaiting tonight’s darkness
Where every single twinkling
Is a message sent home to us.
Tag: guardian
Four Winds (day 2230)
I want to be your cannon ball
Your matchstick in the night
I want to shown you everything
Is made just as it should.
For when wind blows to cool you down
A blessing from the North
And when our morning sun does rise
A blessing from the East.
When a tear falls from your eye
To rest upon your lip
A signal to me, your shining star
To be at your evermore.
Like dew drops on a morning leaf
Your heaving breast shall show
Your heart so strong and beating free
Is still about your soul.
When a bird calls to you upon its way
A blessing from the South
Your eyes, I watch, closing to this day
A blessing from the West.
So if your fright shall hold you back
Into my arms you’ll fall
To be at last, as I’ll guard you,
The guardian of my soul.
Footsteps (day 1926)
Let me go there
Without the torment
Of a rising sun, low
Crowded dusty road
And I’m swimming
Way out past my soul.
One day I’ll be there
A small lineup with a ten
Guardian on the rise
And I’m seeing signs
With footsteps leading in.
Asked to be An Angel Again (day 1813)
I was asked to become a guardian
Down low, down low, in a bottom of mud.
Too late, I said,
Coughing and excusing myself;
Toxicity had taken control
Of my asthma, uncontrollably
Letting my lungs flank
Sides of this yellow pole.
I smiled nicely
At the man who said something,
But to him, I wasn’t listening,
I was to busy snoring.
Excuse me, I said,
Under my breath
And a fly came and landed
Above my head,
So I moved on again, up high, up high.
Practicing Wizardry (day 1569)
Wizards are taking turns cracking whips at higher shelves,
A lost umbrella serves as a dusty stepping stone.
When did he ever know his heartache?
A landslide, at the base looking up standing tall.
Can the old boys help anybody now,
Since there’s a guardian knocking all them down?
There’s a wild side whenever anybody’s holding on,
Take a look now, tomorrow’s rhythm of any song.
Inner ambition’s little sister came to say hi amongst terrible rubble.
She cried big elephant tears until socks upon giants grew ears.
Dusty sorts, way up there, but important bits reside beyond the whip,
Enough so, that a lazy angel has taken it to be her resting place.
Leather bound and locked without a lock.
Page four houndred and seventy three.
Friday Night Shakedown (day 751)
Do not take your hands from the steering wheel and let it drift into unkept edges of city streets.
Make haste! Make speed, good man! Towards dotted lines of hope we must spare no time in pursuing!
But, mind your thoughts as you swerve here and there. Remember precious and delicate matters at hand.
Remember the gambling stone that sits atop at lookout point; sunsets and cityscapes that sweep the horizon so.
Can it mean it is so? Can the limits thrive against the collapsing opportunities of hope thrusting inside my veins?
I should think as you call out my name and shatter my silence that even in the darkest of hours hope should be flung.
Despise my bated breath as non-committal silence that burns down the doors of unturned and untrue thought.
I am a so-called warrior. I am a fenced in guardian. I am a dotted line on the roads to freedom.
I am an invisible sanctity on the lonely island of hope hidden far away from human consumption.
A straightened arrow in the land of many signs, sugar coating fantasy with bikinis and high rise-high cut jean shorts.
Count down my passions as we speed into the night; top down and music shedding our inhibitions like a Friday night shakedown.