I’m allowed to fly.
I am going to grab a star so high.
I put out my hand
To feel your every move again.
Can you hear the wind
Let out its breath into the sky.
Can you love me any more?
Can you let your love fly high above.
Come and dance and spin.
Come and let the world take you in.
Walk into my arms.
Look into my heart that’s never done.
Tag: hand
Choir and Heart (day 1373)
Open your heart
And I shall remain in tune
As if high notes were my lifeline
Screamed out upon peaks of high.
Bring forth such fury,
Where all movement remains
Locked hand in hand
With a long winded choir.
Revolution (day 1361)
I’ve always wanted a new heart.
Not in the easy sense of amateur
Linger lust or unreasonable memories;
Recollect.
No, I’ve wanted new, unwritten rules
That my heart cannot respond to,
An itch in my left hand.
Take no meaning, my dear heart.
All of this is just in passing,
I am simply covering my tracks.
Inside Our Pulse (day 1350)
Hold me as we go out of our heads
And into stardust that
Continually floats about
Uncommon thoughts that live here.
Feel freedom with me,
Hold my hand tight
And sing a song
A little out of key.
Controlled by whipper-wasps,
Heavy in synchronicity
To our beating pulse
Through which our fingers touch.
Days of the Week Poem (day 1332)
Butter me on Sunday
Split my hands upon the door,
Call the lady Monday
At a quarter after four.
Lunnegan Lunnegan Lunnegan Sat,
Place your bets here and I’ll make you a stack.
Gone is my friend, night after Tuesday.
Biscuits and rawhide are left in the mud.
Every missed Friday
Is a Wednesday fallen flat.
For opening the windows
Comes Thursday tru-ra-loo lore.
Blank Slate (day 1321)
I fall awake into the absence of your hands,
Shaking dust into stray beams of sunlight
As I whisper back and forth
With my memory, so strong.
I pull your innocence into my heart
In every deep pull of Chardonnay
Quietly fluttering my anxious wings,
Slowly settling into unheard of figures
Delicately drawn by grand gestures
On blank slates of dust.
Sweet Aroma (day 1319)
Sweet romantic raindrops held out their hands
For my memories and heart splashes.
But I’ve already paid for the month,
I brought my warm sweater;
I’ve come for the show.
Two ladies danced into the night,
Slow waltzes around and around
As I sketched out the scene with dirty charcoal.
Hands in the air and sing out the song,
Pale spotlight in a smokey saloon.
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.
Wild Tiger (day 1204)
I scrambled into wrinkled corners
Flipping pages frantically,
Leading with my one good hand
As if I were demon.
Like tiger I was made a crowd
To pounce as wildfire upon my goal,
Shrieking loudly as I moved
It was my prayer come rounding zen.
Diamonds (day 1184)
Don’t believe forever ends
It’s a way to put it right
Diamonds in bright sunlight
And my savior sits on a weathered post
And my savior sits on a weathered post
A toothless grin I cannot see
Holds my left hand agape
A maker for my extra parts
And my savior sits on a weathered post
And my savior sits on a weathered post
Bending my will to fit your skin
Wrapped around with blood and sin
Design a hungry bird’s mouth
And my savior sits on a weathered post
And my savior sits on a weathered post