Written Down the Back of my Neck (day 934)

Lines have been written down the back of my neck
Ancient scrolls, unintelligible
In a language spoken when men and women
Lived together in deep respect and love

My throat has begun to burn
The ink has started to bleed
Where once was smooth innocence
Crawling with anticipation of the turning times

Return to a fantasia built upon sorcery
Filled with myth so blood-soaked and deep
Memories flood the virgin landscape
And the Oracle speaks once again

Without (day 771)

Without words no man can swallow
Without ideas no man can think
Without legs no man can follow
Without heart no man can provide
Without hands no man can support
Without eyes no man can sympathize
Without toes no man can wade
Without fences no man can defend
Without green no man can spring
Without skin no man can feel
Without hair no man can mind
Without voice no man can speak
Without you no man can be free

Thee Traitors Guilt (day 770)

If I should sing to let it out,
Let mine heart come before my throat.
Should I to throw it all away,
My guard so closely held to me,
So tight thy clutches keep it by,
That even I can scarcely cry.
It fills the rivers, flowing high,
With demands; spent at last.
Where should I take to plan again?
If never again to hold thy hand.
But my sorrow does not weigh thy down,
It chases thy mind, late at night.
Curling it’s distant cries tightly
Around mine enemies to bring them near.
For you have neigh been gently to
The brow of which is mine to frow.
Like dandelions reach’d a state decay’d,
A tiny orb of gone with the wind,
Gently swaying to and fro
In the cool mornings dewy glow.
For now thy knoweth why
I sigh into the songs I sing,
Why I shall carry upon my back
This choice of burden, this gunny sack.
It holds the damage done afore,
It bleeds the blood that once before
Bled about my conscious’s sleeve.
But swept away like wind that’s come,
It’s found it’s way: burden upon my back.
For when I speak to hear mine words,
What beckons my mane to question thus,
Are simple words, beseeching thy:
If not for I, whatever for, dear?
For if not for I then what is left?
Surely there must be something abreast.
If not for me, what good is thee?
Have I becometh thee traitor’s guilt?
Have I been loved by an unformidable cloak?
Damaged doth my thoughts become,
Left to stew about in gloom.
So out! Be gone with it then!
Let love be gone, at once have truth,
Make speed to return here once more again.
For I shall find in my path tomorrow,
A heart that fills my heart still more.
So let it end, this ghastly sorrow.
Be off with it then, gone in the wind.

You Cannot Hear My Screams (day 718)

I push you into corners
And suck out all your blood
I watch your face go pale
And feel the taste of life

You look at me with wonder
And speak out not a word
You flirt me with a smile
And hold on for your life

I cannot understand
And feel not for what I see
I have an urge for deliverance
And I will not let you cease

You flicker and wave in conscience
And fleeting memories flow free
You flirt me with a smile
And release all I’ve ever sold to you

I lay you down in sorrow
And unsure of what I’ve done
I will not survive another
And am lost in what’s begun

You shared your stream of life
And trusted the words I laid
You laid down now in harmony
And cannot hear my screams

Distress Signals (day 136)

Cannot I lift you
With the words that I speak?
Cannot I hear you
With the ears that I append?
Cannot I see you
With the eyes that I focus?
Cannot I feel you
With the hands that I extend?

When will I know
About the weight of my words?
When will I learn
About the error in my ways?
When will I feel
About the lost lovers night?
When will I remember
About the battle of my days?