Inspiration has laid waste
To a plethora of heart songs
And itchy memories,
Each of which stands tall
On the distant horizon
Glimmering in a sea of illusion
That makes it hard to look back at.
For the sun beats down so strong,
And ghosts most definitely do
Walk here amongst us.
There will never come a time
When they fade away,
For my last lifetimes visions
Still slide with me
And my future lifetimes
Still visit me,
But today I still do not look back
For this road forward
Still has clear recognition
To which I need not gamble
To play at.
Tag: horizon
Dragon River (day 3135)
Would you cross Dragon river
For an ancient vision?
A world so wild
It seems chaos,
Nothing we can comprehend.
But over there
The drink is good
So freely handed out,
And Horses sit
At card tables
Betting all or nothing again.
The Trees are big
– So gorgeously big –
They take up most the sky,
Very top of horizon!
Monkeys swing from branch to branch
Dropping sweet surprises
Onto hats passing Frolickers
In bed with Froliquettes.
Would you cross that Dragon river
To step upon the other side?
Or would you tighten up your belt
And square down your hat?
Gray Angel (day 3024)
I am not an angel.
My wings broke,
And the sky laughed
While sun spit pink
Upon both edges
Of the letting horizon,
And just as trees
Bagan to bend
Like wings of a crow
Moving again,
My two feet
So placed
Into thick layers
Of mud, unfolding,
Began to tremble
And quake
Further losing development
Of each gray spot of mind.
Frightful Moon (day 2963)
I woke up in a frightful moon
Glowing against the night
Forgotten where I had come from
Horizon on my mind
Spoke three words
That came to mind
Left no trace of my passing
Then, without much further warning
Snuck off into night.
Field of Enjoyment (day 2905)
I am slipping into a field of enjoyment
Clouds filled with brown eyed susans
Heat waves on the horizon
Dance with the butterflies
While my morning songs waft softly
Over the dewy tips of wild flowers.
Hello, my dear,
I am home.
Solitude (day 2793)
He could not remain solitude
Friends emerged from all around
One found under a toadstool
One behind a thriving red spruce
Even as the day waned
A coyote came strolling along
Until at last, eyes tired and closing
The moon bid farewell and peace
Then all at once a new day began
A sun stretching over the horizon
And with it, a chorus of white breasted birds
To ring the day begin.
To The Birds (day 2518)
I spoke in whispers I thought only you’d know how to hear
A call upon the window ledge that browns a little more each year
Three mountains on the horizon but only one brings you near
How many times can I watch, each time I see what I’ve never seen
Each time, each year the vision is as dear to me again
And sends drawing down my face one happily yet unspoken tear.
Life is Lonely (day 2411)
Life is lonely
There’s no getting around this fact;
There’s no bluer sky,
Or cloudless forever horizon;
There’s no cup of coffee
That can satisfy longer than it takes
To sign your name to a bill.
And when you feel you’re getting caught
In a wirlwind of unlonely,
A ghastly calm shall succeed
Like a dance that ended
When your eyes were closed,
Lost in sweet reverie.
Life is lonely
And the birds are really singing to you,
Or they’re not because they do go silent too;
Sun will inevitably say goodnight
Or hide behind a thick backlit veil,
Looking the other way
As the day passes by,
And you wont reach out
Because you are silently alerted
To your own lonliness
And it feels better, for some reason,
To speak without an audible sound
And inevitably pretending
That your next cup of coffee
Will solve all of these reflecting mirrors.
Secretely (day 2349)
Secretly I whisper to the eyes that hold but little space for me
An awareness that belongs not to my soul of desire
But to a lost alarm clock beckoning for another hour
A window catches a blinking light somewhere in the horizon
While a cat sadly roams about the hall with a limp it cannot heal
Desolation is a lingering affair amidst night before’s busy streets
Where once fireworks begged for mercy in the air like dragons nightly play
So I shall talk at odd volumes to hear my voice again
Though no memory shall recall the words that secretly danced
Amidst uneven sidewalks of a forgotten despair.
Worn Sun (day 2246)
I watched the sun set today
My worn legs took me to the edge of the world
Where I ran my finger over horizon lines
That achingly waltzed a deep pink hue of gold.
The last drops of sunlight are transfixing
They speak of ancient willows blowing in the wind,
Of ancestors who worked fields with their hands,
Of patio chairs rocking back and forth
Transfixed by the first sips of a perspiring cider.
Then, darkness calls;
Outstretched hands tracing my jawline
Caressing my sore back with nimble fingers
Jarring my consciousness with fading memories
Like static visions lifting stars into place
And a wind dying down for rest.