Young Bliss (day 1873)

I’m young, you know.
Made of friendly banter
And anger so quick to jump.
I’ve a heavy foot
Along a freeway and open road,
A bypass of the byway.
My roots: growing,
Simple thoughts into
Designs and plans
Sewing a spot to exist in.
So I dance and weave
Hands held high…
Or beside
Because beside is with
And I’m young and in bliss
And coming home
To a fancy freedom
Upon my dawn
I’ll tie my shoes.

Frosty Morning Saunter (day 891)

A motionless saunter through the cold grass leaving footsteps every bloody place that I go and picking up my feet without tying up the laces because the gloves on my hands are too warm and the air is too cold but the path ahead is shaking and quivering in unrelenting uncontrolled mastery non-mastery in spite my insistence on leaving my hands out of their pockets to fight this urge to cower and shelter from the brutal elements hoping to bridge the gap between strength and toughness without too many frost bites but this is ok because I read about it in a book that told me I should and it told me it’s valiant and it told me I can walk on coals with bare feet too because the skin between my toes is too soft and could use a good toughen up but oh my look at that large dog walking down the now covered in leaves path about to jump up on me because I treat it like a human being and acknowledge it’s existence for who in their right mind wouldn’t want to jump up on me with such an acknowledgement but you know the dog is so friggen big it’s like a young man feeding must be expensive is all I can think as my steps trace up the frozen tarmac slipping on the thin layer of ice hardly visible and highly wavering but all is good because I’m about to peak this crest and stand for a moment on the highest point and survey my kingdom for it is my kingdom for it is my kingdom for it is my kingdom that I survey due to my commitment to walk the coldest slippery path in all the woods in the mornings before the dusk has settled in and after all of the leaves have come flying down to the maker of their fate named gravity and decay and decomposition and footsteps along the singletrack path between the naked branches of thinner than I thought birch trees awaiting the bounty of springs sunshine because I’m not ready to give up on the year yet I’ve got plans to formulate and materialize and time to waste and sleep to never catch up on and a nice warm cup of coffee around noon because I’ve begun to let down my guard for certain things as I raise my guard for garbage and consumption and waste and destruction of our land this land my land my kingdom I saunter through on this cold frosty morning good morning world good morning world good morning world get up and go now take it off.

And Peace and Trees (day 600)

Alone in the bush
I continue
With plans in my head
That smile
I step over needles
And cry
Fill up my basket
That weighs
Of burden and memories
But I
Step to the side
And put
My soul into knees
To feed
Life I live
With health
Of strength from battle
I grow
Deep rooted tree
To fall
Upon hands of a maiden
And laugh
Until my eyes weep no more
Sunshine
Fills up my soul
No more
Do I share tears with this earth
Now just
A love that has peace with itself
And smiles

Peace (day 530)

In the entrance of reality we are blessed with conscience
We each see the light that pushes us forth
The difference becomes when we fold up our socks
And pull down our pants to bend over backwards
To let the finishing touches be put on our shine
By the people we choose to let us be led

You choose this, this never ending pull
This never ending walk into our mind that sets us forth
Sets us apart from our brothers and sisters
The ones who also share the same exact stretches of imagination
That rupture our souls and pitch our chests upward
Necks alert and mouth and eyes gaping upwards

Our own unique plans allow us to differentiate this path
Undoubtedly pushing each one of us
It is I, it is you, it is us who choose to balance
The way the stars effect
Glimmering off the rippling evening lake
That blows as it wants in the stretches of time that glitter in our minds

Peace then pushes forth in our conscience
Emanating outwards from the beams of life
That stretch from the parts which have been nurtured
Lust fills us for a life that cannot be silenced
Rosy cheeks and picture perfect smiles
And peace, always in peace with nature and self

No Mortal Man (day 250)

The world wheels it’s sad plans, and little laughter
Without any qualms of repent or malaise
Yet holds dear what soldiers fear
And keeps repetitive patterns to our daily madness
In spite all the sin, in all the hours of distress
Sent hurtling through the air like scatter bomber;
No one near is ever safe
We find a serenity in a song played from a far away speaker
Slowly winding its way down the backs of a thousand year old men
Climbing the lamp posts in an excited chatter
Rattling the car horns as they whisper on through the bright light

Sweet angels come out then, with their faces turned down
Deeply focused on a task they care nothing at all about
Yet their patience controls their movements
Their virtues calculate the proper time to set forth
When once again the music from distant speakers
Curl down the ancient backs of the fathers of old men
Nothing can stop them then, with their time in front of them
For sin is within those who stop the proceedings
No man mortal can avoid the dance deep within

..and Then It Continued (day 249)

I have sat here some time now
Working out my little plans
And sadly I grow weary here
Without finishing the details
But alas, there is tomorrow yet
Where I can fight past these lines
I will make the day all mine!
I will complete more than done today
Perhaps then I will rest
Relax in my findings
But until that day does come
I shall be back again in the morning