Friday Night Shakedown (day 751)

Do not take your hands from the steering wheel and let it drift into unkept edges of city streets.
Make haste! Make speed, good man! Towards dotted lines of hope we must spare no time in pursuing!
But, mind your thoughts as you swerve here and there. Remember precious and delicate matters at hand.
Remember the gambling stone that sits atop at lookout point; sunsets and cityscapes that sweep the horizon so.
Can it mean it is so? Can the limits thrive against the collapsing opportunities of hope thrusting inside my veins?
I should think as you call out my name and shatter my silence that even in the darkest of hours hope should be flung.
Despise my bated breath as non-committal silence that burns down the doors of unturned and untrue thought.
I am a so-called warrior. I am a fenced in guardian. I am a dotted line on the roads to freedom.
I am an invisible sanctity on the lonely island of hope hidden far away from human consumption.
A straightened arrow in the land of many signs, sugar coating fantasy with bikinis and high rise-high cut jean shorts.
Count down my passions as we speed into the night; top down and music shedding our inhibitions like a Friday night shakedown.

Death and I (day 608)

Death walked away
In silence and in pain
Beaten and afraid
Death walked away

I called Death
By its unspoken last name
Stalked it
I called Death

Death turned around
Looked at me
Quivering lip raised
Death turned around

Death and I danced
We held hands
A deep romance
Death and I danced

Death didn’t lie
It cleared the room
Dimmed the lights
Death didn’t lie

Until I cried
While Death hurried
Death hung itself
Until I cried

On My Breath (day 341)

Perhaps it was lost that night I lay awake
Stupid with drunk on my breath
I saw what I have never been able to explain
Where the answers are to questions that have never been asked

Then, and only then, I was lost
Amongst my familiar things I was lost
Like the cold sun or the free bird
Before I knew what had happened
The lights had turned out and the morning was to early

I did spend the next 5 days stumbling
There was no equal for time
But there were counterparts that played the role pretty good
However lost my heart was that night

Without a word the silence ended
Out from nowhere the claws began to scratch
Reaching for the little spaces within my armor
To leave me a better man

No Silence (day 36)

In spite the effort, a skillful retreat
I’ve long forgotten what once was a feat
I’ve pushed the boundaries
Beyond all knowledge
I’ve pushed understanding
Into corridors long since silenced

But yet there belongs a chorus of laughter
Deep inside like spitting banter
Trying to ridicule what decent scent of abomination
Still left inside can sometimes whither
Unsuccessfully chasing
The glory days to reign
Amongst the eyelids who persistently clasp shut