Looked Like a Lover (day 779)

She looked like a lover I used to have
Who wouldn’t let me hold her tight
Though she’d lay naked on my bed

She looked like a lover I used to know
Who would sing a song to my keen heart
Then tell me not to listen to a word

She looked like a lover I used to love
Eyes so wide, figure so heavenly
But she told me not to smile again

She looked like a lover I used to believe
Words weaving dreams and harmony
Till she blew out her last plume of smoke

She looked like a lover I used to praise
Elegant and beauty deep and divine
Then she spoiled my words with one final goodbye

Anderson the Tender and Marianda Hamphretta Dalsento (day 753)

Mom, will I ever be able to fly?
-no dear, you do not have any wings
But, you can climb better than any bird

Mom, will I ever learn to sing a song?
-no dear, not like the birds that you hear
But, sounds you can make is music to my ears

Mom, are we really the devil’s animal?
-no dear, not anything near to it
But, it will do you good to be cautious of your ways

Mom, will I ever become bad and devil like?
-no dear, you’re heart will always be where you place it
But, that is not to say you can not become

Mom, will this tree always be our home?
-no dear, humans will cut these trees soon
But, we will move on and build a new home

Mom, will I always stay this small?
-no dear, you will grow up to be a very fine sloth
But, you must remember to eat your vegetables to ensure it

Mom, can we stay here for a while?
-yes dear, I like it just where we are

aSloth

Anderson and Marianda can be purchased here.

A Calm Exhale (day 725)

A peaceful song pulls at my thoughts
Sweeping my soul through a meadow
Filled with low hanging weeping willows
And a gurgling brook
With tufts of grass flanking that stream
Fuzzy colours all around
Like a post-impressionist dream
Filtered through the eyes of societies insanity

The only thing trampling the mood
Is the outside world blaring from a tube
Shucking the calm that flows within
Into a frustration so pitted it groans
A casual breath turns towards forced
Focusing on zen, the art of happiness
Resisting the urge to call out and reform

With one simple application of a minor force
Sounds die out, echoing in the walls
Crafting witty remarks amongst the plants
That reflect the incandescent glow
A warm glow of a settling mood
Relaxing within the peaceful song
Sweeping my pressured edges towards their sheaths
And collapsing my insanity into a calm exhale

A Bird In The Morning (day 431)

The bird awakes as the dew is still fresh
Clinging to the little hairs that sense danger
Shaken at once to ensure all is still alright

Wouldn’t that be something
To set oneself into flight upon a new day
And find out too late about failures

All along the country side
The other little birds also wake
Repeating the same ritual from evenings slumber

Through the valleys it is heard
Such music that only nature can create
Like splashes deep within the forest
The birds morning is always in chorus

Perhaps the other wild animals
Rely upon the bird for mornings glory
Perhaps they also revel in the song

Pixies (day 380)

I dance the dance of a thousand maidens
Through the woods and flat lands with flowers in my hair
I’ve grown accustomed to the birds and the bees
Around here there is no more sadness

And with the ides of seasons that come
The winds they carry all messages I hear
Of love, of song, of fairy tales I deluge
Merry making I do wherever I do roam

Late at night when I rest my head upon the feathers
The animals all around settle too
We breathe a collective sigh and remember the sky
Stars, full of life, watching over

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

My War Song (day 192)

Rebel! My gangly warriors
Adjust your masks and ready
Brace yourselves
Against all time
And prepare yourselves with knowledge
Fear not the chief
Of thine enemy
Who claims to have valor
For we all know
Those colours clad
Lack the strength we carry in ours
Unite! Great men,
Hold your swords up high
Rebel yell!
Reach down to hell
Let the strength and fight begin!

Rolling (day 118)

It happened together of awe-struck stride
While wheeling together the untied bride
Alone, at last, the house guests blast
And sing in unison, my brave and married son
Call birds, call deer, call your mother near!
Leave doors open for angels to swing
Lovely breezes on untouched wings

And for god sakes man!
Blame not him, it’s simply the plan!
The call for truth was left before
The aim for gain forever more
A bride in stride, a game in play
A whore alone with stained tears
An arm, a leg, a fire brigade
The wheel begins it’s long kept song