Tag: rusty

Legs of a Newborn

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Chilling me, my bones;
Solar vision of a home.
Leave sense alone,
For good can be struck
Gathered at
Legs of a newborn.

Forgive this faintest vision:
Whelping at green gates,
Unable to return this burden
To a rusty hand that remains
Steadlock,
A wooden helm,
For sorcery:
Electric sounds gurgle on.

Mission of lost specifics,
Vague and cold and distant offers
Scrawling deeper into well lit halls
Piano key footsteps;
I’m an anarchist loosing it
Blessed closing song
Holding a chord
Of a subtle melody
Breaking my consciousness.

Growing (day 2783)

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I don’t walk with a swagger
I’m not a callused hand
I don’t wish for stars
Or four leaf clovers
I sing with a guitar that holds a tune
But my voice is held under water
In a rusty tin can
So I sleep in a cold corner
With a sore back on my side
I run out of gas
When I’m driving too fast
And my knives all go blunt
So my pencils aren’t sharp
But I’m still trying hard
To grow something again

Salt Water (day 1951)

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Restless wrestling into oblivion
Spiders crossing midnight’s hearth
Locomotives blaring alarms
With an overused burden
Tucked deep inside a minor piano chord
Snapshot time frame over zoned
Freshly unground inside an attitude
Crawling blue veins starving
Window forever fogging
Death knocks at Love’s rusty gate
Salt water streaking pant cuffs
Boot prints trailing off

The Ruin (day 1742)

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Empty pill bottles slammed into the rusty cages of my heart
Leading my hopelessness on a two part story,
Part 1: The Ruin
Part 2: The End.
I’m sympathetic to wasps that buzz around my head as I divert my pure thoughts,
Only had I known their tapping of my consciousness could harness heaven,
For I was scrubbing furiously with a wire brush
To scrape every last bit of rust from my hopes.

Letters with Hearts (day 1735)

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I remember the golden letter
I signed my last goodbye with,
A script I was particular proud of
With a rusty ol’ dipping pen
Tied up with lies and eternity
And how many times have I chosen to
Wave goodbye to you.
So I stuffed mixed emotions
Into a ball into my pocket
Sat on it for two days
And mailed it with no address.

Letters With Hearts by Ned Tobin

Rusty (day 1546)

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I put into words the last drops of sunlight
That left my supine soul wandering alone
Face up on an old two-track dirt road
By a rusty water reservoir
Near the outskirts of town.
For me, I couldn’t understand the capacity
Of one single ray of sunshine
That drifted on from that barren landscape
Of my calmly coiled fingers.
I drew a large circle encircling my two nipples
Nearly touching my navel
– Which had the mark of an ancient blood line –
In order to continue calculating
My numbing heartbeat’s instinct
That would lead me from this enclosing darkness
Into a fiery nether region
I had witnessed during a tremor.

Rusty by Ned Tobin

Old Favorite Sweater (day 930)

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I’ve unconditionally surrendered my old favorite sweater
It’s ok, I like her
But… there’s something about it
There’s a beat-up-rusty-truck memory
With worn seats – yellow foam surprises
You know, a once-was-navy-blue bench seat
Shift-knob-black that knows my sentimental touch
Caressing like I’ve driven her well
Like I’ve taken care not to drip gas-o-line
Checked the oil twice a month
And kept the tires at an even thirty five p-s-i

Perhaps the memories are shared with
These in-animate things
These pieces of fabric and steel-workers toil
That warm those chilling days
That don’t quite sit flush the whole way down
Letting familiar drafts rush up the back
Hands in my pocket

Perhaps this is why I smile when she’s wearing it
After all, it’s alright to let these things
Live a life of their own
To sit me down and coo in my ear
Hot chocolate and unconditional
Kind of love