Tag: thought

Lover’s Call (day 1487)

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If I had heard a lover’s call
Way late at night when all was well,
I’d sharpen up my sharpest blade:
To the rescue, enchanted all.

My dear would swoon and share her thoughts:
Deep reverence for all I brought.
Her mind aglow forever more,
Ignition for my dwindling heart.

Could then my peace be eaten up
By scoundrels and necromancers?
Surely all my wisdom been sought
Guard me strongly against such draft.

So here I grow forever more
A lofty place for perched gargoyle,
A view to lay the world away
Into night with a lover’s call.

Catered Driftwood (day 1383)

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I paused to reflect on waves
Splashing my reflecting peace.
I knew that twinkling waves
Were unspent thoughts
Still waiting for my fancy.
Yet here I was, clear of thought,
Amongst children thinking it funny
To throw plastic cups in the sea,
Unaware of volunteers
Cleaning her from bow to stern;
Amongst gulls pecking at my toes;
Amidst catered driftwood
Aligned in rows.
Yet my thought was still overwhelmed
By sweet shining sun:
Heavenly as she chose.
And I lay still here
Until memory aligned again with thought,
And the sea was ebb and flow.

Wind (day 1217)

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I alter the states of my mind
To allow the gusts of thought pass
As if they had just become mingled
In a thousand cobwebs
That had secrets and truths
And memories long ago
Been buried in my parents back yard
Along side Angus, the family dog,
And Winne, our brown and white guinea pig.
This is where the present comes from,
Shifting from side to side
Hardened pieces of driftwood
And last years decaying perennials.
Wind may bend and curve my states of emotional madness,
My shifting moods and sands and magical feathers
That answer all of my questions,
But time roots all of these gusts
Into solid memories of the old arbutus
Clinging to mind when I close my eyes
And let the wind run through
These states of my mind.

Gaia’s Birth (day 1066)

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And you crawl out
To where we sing.
To which we carry high
Lofty goals,
Lifting our honour
With romantically inclined love,
Like sweet mother Gaia
Discarding Winter’s white cloak
To dawn
Spring’s rainbow.

I cannot follow my empty thoughts
Through the havens of a darkened loft.
I live forever better
With your heart upon my hearth,
Warming every thought
As darknesses cold, cold moon
Falls asleep to Gaia’s waking sun;
Sweet nectar caress.
Alive like our emotion
Captured in long walks
Through Spring’s blooming alleys.
A landscape ere enliven.

Like sweet hanging fruit
– Summer’s lush temptation –
This lover’s ever clutch.
Anxious for turning seasons
As the fresh air soaks my dewy brow.
Can you not also give to great excitement?
I laugh and run wild a while,
For what is satisfaction
Void a lover’s yearning heart?
What worth is Summer
Dry from Spring’s never drought.

Figurative Hand Memories (day 1061)

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So the moon blinked and I saw what I had been waiting to see.
Like sweet flowers and long grass setting in the warm summer’s afternoon sun;
I saw that windows were figurative,
That Angels were literal,
That icons were forgotten memorizations,
And that caveats were the peaks and troughs of her supple skin
My hands caressed so.
My hands caressed so.
My hands caressed like wild winds flirting giant oaks
Drawing shadows as elixir cursed through my thoughts.
Here it danced amongst and on.
Where I thought I had begun, and knew I had rolled back to.
So I swam – figuratively – and saw what I had been waiting to see.

Teach Me the Moment of That (day 972)

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Teach me the moment of that.
The moment we collided
In an orchestral orgasm,
Ecstasy of fragrants and essences…
And soft music blowing
Leaves in a swirl about our thoughts
That hang like spring rainclouds.

Teach me the moment of that.
Where I walk on the balls of my feet
Through soft summer warmed sand.
Seagulls walking quietly, lazily,
Hand in hand with sunglasses and oversized hats
That smile at most all things,
And run home to.

Stubborn (day 969)

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There is nothing that I can do
To change the minds of stubborn fools
Even if I were to try
My wiles on their brute for a while
I’d find my thoughts stuck between
Their fist, my faith, all compiled
And to which end that I seek
Should make it dangerous, us to speak
I seek not, which not begs of me
But which the stubborn fool’s to gain

Recollections and Misunderstandings (day 852)

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I’ve heard those thoughts waft around before
Not likely reflecting untampered
Recollections filter absent minded memories
Speaking no evil for I hear no evil

And gods of the dance hall tighten their platinum toe straps
Lifting on the One-Two-Three avenue sidewalk

Until I misunderstand requesting minds
I say to my lovers: “I’m all man, I’m all man.”
Then in Hol-e-wood I’m left cement stiff
I’m left because I’m all that’s left