Madness Passing (day 2919)

Without eyes passing vision
How speaks the mind to soul
Flapping lips and no one cares
Passing judgement uninformed
Mind is lost
Reign supreme
Democracy
Vote for me
Life without a leader
In every spotlight searching
Calmly walk the gangway
Calmly herd a memory
So that digital flips
Can recollect
A madness uninvented.

Joy of Life (day 2827)

What windows open up my mind
To whom I speak so soft?
What vision is, I cannot say..
For laughter washes all
Into a valley of design,
Making each symbol remain the same.
Seeds of which photosynthesize,
Cracks amidst the soil,
Teeth so eagerly chattering,
Rain so vibrantly,
Gaia, she knows all secret things
Our eyes are not our only sense
Oh Joy! Oh Life!
Cometh my way.

Line (day 2623)

There’s no line to draw,
Fence to climb,
Curtain to open,
Or purchase to make.
There’s only truth.
There’s what makes truth.
There’s living truth,
Speaking truth,
Believing truth,
And being truth.
There’s you,
And you’re truth.
Should you choose it
You can become it
Since there is no seperation
From one truth to another
Just truth
From you to me.
And that matters.

The Bane of Fullness (day 2470)

I don’t want to hold onto this enormous feeling.
A Skeptic once said the past isn’t present,
So let us believe that a fullness isn’t real
(A limit we reach where we can no longer give, share, believe),
Let this feeling take us on a tenderness stroll
Like sheer cotton shading giant pillows we lounge upon,
Meandering through ancient streets and wild forests
Where we stop at every third park bench we pass
To sit closely and pretend we’re still consciously speaking
In syllables that reason can understand and explain,
For to me your words speak in gestures only my ears
– And perhaps the dear sweet Cupid who so cleverly pinned us –
Can fully grasp at, mingled so heavily with vibrant lips
My eyes cannot escape being entranced by,
And breath mine hairs can feel so warmly upon
With your gentle yet firm fingers ever so delicately
Squeezing a new pattern into mine palm of eternity.
I want to hold onto you, the back of your neck with softest of curls
As our lips mean to share what we’ve intoned of a feeling,
Forgetting for brief moments our shooting star madness
And living a while longer by the bane of our senses.

Moon at Midnight – Part XXXXXVI (day 2030)

(part XXXXXV)

We stayed for five days
With Amy, Frank and Clarinet
As expected, it was really quite enjoyable
There wasn’t enough room inside their cabin
So we set up in Frank’s barn
With some fresh hay we had helped reap –
Clarinet and Lily shared a bed inside,
I was happy to see them getting along so good
In spite their obvious cultural differences
And, truthfully, hardly able to speak to each other.

We were all thankful to have the horses
For the ride home
Amy forced us to take some of her jerky again
And stuffed our bags full of baked buns
Fresh from her oven
But, it was nice to sleep
Under the stars again
Around a campfire
The night was warm and clear
And we all felt happy,
Warmed by the socializing…
By the friendliness Amy and Frank
Always made sure to shower us with
They were really becoming quite good friends
To think, only three short years ago
I had first walked up to their front porch.

The next day we were up early again
And before we had ridden too far
Moon Cow saw a deer and had an arrow through it’s neck
We camped close by, at a creek
And spent the rest of the day dressing it
To prepare it for the remainder of the ride
It was nice to eat the fresh meat that night
But it surely wasn’t as good as
What Amy had packed us, smoked.

The rest of the trip home went
Without much to excitement
I was happy to see how well Willow was doing
On account of her broken ribs
It still hurt her to do long days on the horse
But she was so skilled on the horse
That she was able to avoid much pain
Still, we kept the next two days of riding
Slow and steady, without pushing too much
And enjoying the wildnerness we explored
Lily, of course, was all eyes everywhere
So excited to be on a journey
But a little melancholic about
Having to return to our village
After become so familiar, spoiled I guess I could say
With Amy and Clarinet’s hospitality.

part XXXXXVII

You’re Perfect (day 1958)

When I say you’re perfect
I mean it from the whole of my essence
From my tingling toes
To each breath I excitedly (and deeply) inhale,
From my deepest lost fantasy
To each lightly placed finger tip
That crawls every imagination I’ve got.
Your perfection seeds my stillness
That captures me in your grace.
Your wrong is not a wrong,
Your wrong is effort in my eyes
That nurtures your blossom,
Imagination takes your fancy
And lifts your spirit,
Infecting me like a perfect vision,
A serpent,
A sun rising from the horizon
Inch by inch warming my open eyes
To the miracle of a new day.
Your perfection isn’t in your perfect action,
Or your perfect features,
Or your perfect voice or perfect success,
Your perfection lies within your being.
Your perfection lies within your effort
That dances as you know how to dance
Over obstacles and through conversations,
That listens and speaks and shares and fights
And bruises and hurts and feels and bites.
Perfection is you, not the sum of your doings,
It stays with you as you go,
And returns again tomorrow,
It follows you into your messiest of days
And shadows you as you run.
When I say that you’re perfect,
It doesn’t hinge on how you treat me
Or what you bring me as a gift,
It doesn’t depend on your generosity
Or how close you hold my hand,
No, I mean it without you even knowing me
And I mean it as you walk upon your path,
I mean it as you say goodbye
And wave me our last kiss.

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