Tag: stone

Howl Right Back (day 1277)

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If it wasn’t for all the time I spend
Laying in bed wild and free,
I’d have surely lost all my passion
To be here now with you.
For when the moon howls at me
And tells me strongly to:
“Avoid the day, avoid the stone,
Set your spirit free.”
I’m often inclined to howl right back
Singing my favorite song.
But my heart! How it rides!
How it holds my hands and squeezes!
I’m in too far, I’m comfortable,
And my coffee gets delivered to me.

How can I go on wondering,
How does time elude my plan,
Did I walk off with silly games
I’d never make it home to play?

A memory that comes to me
Usually sets me free.
Like Hindenburg, Heidelberg,
Like Huxley, Hoyt, and Hank.
Like one thousand soldiers
Returning home
After two years of endless war.
Like comfort that you give me
As I lay side by side with you,
I reach into my back pocket
And expose my satisfaction,
I’m home.

My Land | Chapter I (day 1124)

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There I would rush around the stone well, the little arch covering darkness and holding a squeaky bucket as it slips. I glide as the dog snarls, hovering just far enough away because it knows what’s good for it.

A deck chair squeaks back and forth like the broken weather vane whispering from the roof. I eye it slowly as sun peaks over my mystery horizon and look around for a glass to quench my thirst. Sometimes a savage I must be.

Small herds of livestock check their watches against the consistency of the grass, it’s not easy being a rambling herd. Especially in these dry times of year, especially with the river running so low.

My spurs rang through the air like the hot sun stung, not a soul around this dry place.

Cursing, I sat down at the weathered kitchen table; a hard seat and cold beans. A window and dusty particles distracting my angel heart, because I am here to love and the long coat isn’t my true calling.

I tracked like the Cheyenne, a good ghost. I could find a trail on a rock boulder. The wind spoke to me as it washed over the vista, and I was a good long shot.

[note: to read the full epic track my land]

Semi-Opaque White (day 867)

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This is me sinking into the glass that’s empty

Subtle tones flickering off the semi-opaque sides
Autumn yellows and oranges from incandescent bulbs
With smiling faces shifting about the vacant spaces
Of this safe-room-white walled habitation

I was wrong when I sang your song with my sad heart
A slow beating heart like footsteps in the snow
Alone in winter’s paradise
Holding your cold hand as the glass set to stone

And too, by then the glass was empty of mischief
Labelled fun by the secret-book-black marker
That always lay beside your handy-dad bed
Wedding-dress-white sheets and matching pillows

And I was sad about falling through this time
When my step moved with falling’s grace
I was sad about falling alone without you
An early-morning-fog around my empty glass windows

For I’ll keep you satisfied if I took the time
Forever and always inside the skeleton of an empty glass
Sliding down steamed windows
Labeled Heart with stapled messages

Damp autumn orbs of wind blown tears
Settling on semi-opaque sides of window’s emptiness
Emptying my heart and welcoming winter’s vacancies
Sinking into answers in white

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The Layers (day 515)

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The urge is to cry
To roll up my sleeves
And drag my knuckles dry

Pity that holds hands
Hugs deeper than your throat
Meaningless dripping sands

Innocence that’s bleeding red
Hunger rolling eyes
Still lying naked on black night’s bed

Cupping breasts cold as ageless
And sipping wine with fine dark chocolate
Slipping through my anonimical mess

I die with the tears of acid
Flowing freely from the stone
Black with ash smelling acrid

Don’t lie to me angel face
Licking your feathers and pouting your lips
Desire makes death tangled with lace

Into The Void (day 501)

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I cannot survive the pressure from these gates
The overwhelming burdens that punch their ways home
Swelling the pride and flattening its life
Conquering all warmth and allowing the cold stone
To slowly pass over my face and creep into my heart

Let the animals ravenously lounge about my body
Torn as it be, healthy as it was, gone is its fate
Let the maggots eat my flesh and sun dry my innards
I have let the cool fates of the jagged edge
Pull at my future promises and lay waste to my hope

Sleepily I make my way forth into the foggy pools
Asking alligators the way through the thin poles
That littler the fog like needles in a pincushion
Motor gently putting along as little ripples trail
With the smell of diesel slowly intensifying