Ending Sky (day 3013)

This is how I cried within,
But there was no trail to follow
So I held my breath
With open eyes,
And still goodbye came too soon
In my never ending sky.
A love letter unmarked;
I never found the start
Of the train I had so always yearned,
Watching dullening lines down
My mirrored window,
And I’ll walk home tonight
For I can see you tonight
In the sky so high above.

Foggy Mirrors (day 2601)

It’s a damn shame
You used to ride around with foggy mirrors
In my largely used mind
Spinning wheels that ran me up
To a hundred miles an hour
Your headlights were my exposé
Dangling freely from the eye
Of my rear view mirror
But now the brakes have been applied
Shifted back down to first
Greens and reds and stop and go
City streets commanding slow

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.

I Shall Not Walk Alone (day 2176)

Your gravity
Has been pulling me
Into a void
I care not to ignore
Anymore.
I care not to ignore
Precious angles
I’ve begun to run into
Lately.
Your mirrors
Will work again
Once I
Reflect long enough
To see
My reflection
Clearly.
Your house
Of angles
Has become the antithesis
Of a void
Which I’ve stepped into
Knowing.
I shall not walk
Alone.

Know Me (day 1600)

You don’t know me
You don’t know my pale blue eyes
Looking longer every day
Into this dusty mirror 
Decorated with tokens
Of some mysterious lust. 
You don’t know the color 
This silver makes at midnight
When I don’t know what I’m doing. 
You don’t know the whispers
I tell myself as I unlatch the front door
And check myself into society,
Knowing that two small words
Have the power to change it all. 
And I have three,
Just in case. 

My Red-Red Blue (day 1015)

Indecisively I shifted your heart into my hand
I lingered here a while, debating the weight
Massaging veins that beat uncontrollably

Over and over I turned the red-red blue organ
I looked for a way in – an answer or a keyhole
That would somehow give me what I didn’t know

What did I know? But did I know?
A reflection in the mirror caught my eye
Self portraiture for another day

Here I beat; lifelessly solemn, sublime
Another memory for those who began to fade
Where spots of sun traversed endlessly

Wisemen (day 982)

Silently I stepped out from behind the mirror
Took a moment to reflect, to look back
To think about what had happened unto my demeanor
My wrinkles shone like gemstones
Enlightening my visitors to the challenges I had faced
None, save the unexpecting, could reconcile the past
Not one of my curses could pierce through that thick veil
To snuff out the screaming badges
Leaving dormant Wisemen holding court above chalice’s hold
And I never remembered to drink

Forward [a Smile] (day 920)

I didn’t think I heard you right
Calling my name like a love bird
“Coo. Coo.”
My baited ear; bent.

But your eye, raised brow
Intrigued my senses,
Tingled my nerves, and
Shook my tailored cuff
Into a slow waltz,
A casual saunter.

Dimmed lights
And a smile that pulled
[Gravitational laws of attraction]
Which spit out the cork
And drank straight from the bottle

A blood red moon burned that night
As lovers made their way
Past steaming alleys.
Sleeping sidewalks glistening
In moonlit silence.
Clip-clop street talk with
Romance in a new nights air.

Forward to waking eyes,
Resting pants [still belted]
Carelessly draped over
A wooden powder-blue picket chair,
So tenderly close to that
Matching vanity with a mirror

Murmurs rustling through the sheets
[Down filled comforter]
And a familiar close to home
Written between
Those smiling lips,
But crying a hidden tear.
A soft memory.

What Could Be (day 571)

There are days when it feel like I’ve narrowly been missed
Like if I stare for a few more moments
I’ll catch your reflection in the mirror
Standing there beside me, as it should be

New age, digital sentences

Walk with fine breaths that catch uncontrollably
Upon the thoughts of what could be
What if the romance was sparked
Living a life inside a headspace

Old age, humbled forgiving

Books with notes clutter the conscience with a lingering smell
Dust rolls off the thoughts like dew in the sunshine
And life carries on, like time
As books multiply in the mirrors