Welcome to an ancient seed
Lost into a diagram
Sold into a paradigm
That missed one houndred marks.
So then the ancient seed becomes
Lost into translation,
A whisper of diagnosis
Spread out onto sheets.
Then when all is lost,
When all notes are acquired
Seed will grow, continually,
No matter stretch of road.
Tag: houndred
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.
Windshield Wipers (day 961)
My eyes roll sideways
Like the criss-crossing trademarks
Scraping the residual, back and forth
Back and forth, while I,
Lounging through my toxic caffeine
Rattling at 128 beats per minute
One houndred and seven miles per hour
Kiss the seawall goodbye
And plow my way forth
Into the great North
One Houndred Days (day 302)
We paddled and paddled
For one houndred days straight
Neither rest nor sleep
Was our friend all the while
We came about falls
We came about rapids
We came about bears
Finding winters warmth flapping
We passed by the furs
Of the coastal regions
We passed by the spruce
Of the swampier interiors
We passed by the pines
When the river twined
And we never complained
For our destination inclined
Not a single soul to speak
Not a diverting path to take
No energy was lost
In the battle we fought
We all had our children
Our warm wives back at home
But our socks they were warm when
Our backs they lay cold
Our knit caps, they
So red and so bold
We paddled until
Our paddles they broke
Then paddled some more
With the spares that we towed
And then, in the distance
As we pushed through the night
First one, then another
Then tens of houndreds they did burn
The fires of our friends
The fires of our family
The first of the First Nations
As they sat along the bank
Celebrating their season in the sun
The drums we had felt
Many days before
A pace threatening saunter
A force for our driving
As we came to the landing
We were swarmed by the tribe
We had always come here
We would always return
We were family here
We were friends here
This was our home
The land of the free
And after we shared
With the children all around
We welcomed the tribes men
We embraced our dear wives
We brought out our treasures
We had bargained for at the market
One houndred days paddling
One houndred days to the east
They sang songs for us
They sang songs with us
We brought out our fiddles
And we sang songs for them
We danced through the night
And we danced all the day
We hunted with the men
And we slept with the women
But then, when we saw
The leaves turning colours
We packed up our furs
And loaded our pelts
Carved out our paddles
And sorted our gear
Sad and long faces
As the morning progressed
We paddled on silently
Into one houndred days to the East
