A callused hand is my tomorrow;
You’re never far behind.
Leave alone the matted mess
That flirts with every question
For in the envelope of time
Was never sort of guessing, no,
All that was ever called
To surface of the law
Was packaged neatly, sorted, drawn,
And placed into a manilla – shut
Stamped with half ones love
I forgot my song when I sang today
Though my fingers they played on,
And here I sit, all played out:
Content as one can get.
Though my walking stick’s become
A little worse for ware,
Heart and mind’s been strengthening
To build on my tomorrow.
Billowing out from beyond my belief,
Strangling the storm windows
Which turns me blank with divert.
I cross out
Little errors that shape my tomorrow
Without missing a beat.
Yet here I am,
Following little sounds
Towards curious places
And letting my soul speak and be heard.
How curious these rays become.
It’s no longer a crazy game
Of hand feeding hand.
Lust is not lost and
Games never end.
But look, it’s midnight.
My eyes have become swollen
With misery and trying,
And I’m loosing the edges
Of my bitter plan
For tomorrow.
I never hoped for you,
I never crossed my fingers
And bled questions into my
Well worn Tarot cards.
Here I was lost.
No. Here I wasn’t lost,
But it was here that
I began to remember
Who had soiled these sheets
With kindness and piss.
I cannot discover pleasure
Lurking behind bass cabinets.
I cannot look any longer
Into the abyss of your eyes.
Forget my tender roses that grow
Beneath the hearth, so warm.
Forget I promised a thousand tomorrows
As one day never arrived.
Forget purple surges amongst our veins
Late when the moon lit our hearts.
Forget crimson skies, tomorrow’s disguise
For lifeless I’ve never remained.
Forget my whispers as they echo on,
Alone in your daddy’s penned name.
I had feelings that ruptured
Burst
Strangling and expiring
Vaulting our secret existence
Hard wild abandon
Into tomorrow
If words like these did sting your ears
If flowers no longer blossomed in your eyes
If roads began to wind for you
Forever may those distrust in me
If I spoilt the love I have today
For a love I won’t have tomorrow
Then let a darkness be the bearer
Of steps I do declare
If my virtues contrast my ways
If my habits exceed my grace
Then let my name ring out in laughter
As a man who toiled his life in vain
If a blade took my life tonight
The ice pulling down my being
If an end does finally come of it
And sets my soul to float away
Which pierces through your heart in pain
Then let your suffering be felt by me
What my dying breath shall whisk away
Stars stretch from the middle of undying hands of a lover
Crisp and bright and forever in my eyes until tomorrow
The day that never arrives, that holds fast in the horizon
One moment at which is always averted with longing eyes
Starting with scraps of freshly cut hearts laid smooth
The outside pieces of a perfectly carved out heart
Three spots of glue to forget the damage done
Pages that now have the attention cold hands didn’t have
Tugging slowly at papers
Falling
Wind
We return
It is earth
Laying alone amongst the flowers
Is the only company I should need
Bees flower my conscience with honey
So thick it should root my evil
In unfounded depth of a mothers milk
Meanwhile, dumbfounded maidens
Frolic carelessly in the garden at night
Trying to escape the eye of delight
If anyone catches them they’ll let out a yelp
Like the nymphs of the wooded lands
The maidens of the garden who look about in fright
Carry me into dreams I’ve dreamt once before
Follow me into depths as I’ve crawled through the door
For now I shall rest here then
Amongst the poppies, buttercups, and paintbrushes: zen
Then I will fall away, lost in a cause
Then I shall dream again
For tomorrow always comes again
Tomorrow I shall be in a whole new land
One with infinite possibilities
One that smells of freshly baked bread
That encourages red wine and cheese
I will pack some socks, for Ill be gone a while
And I plan not to return
I’ve arranged my things, said my good-byes
I shalln’t see them for some time
I’m flying there, on a little commute
One I’ve done a few times before
But this time’s different: something has changed
Perhaps it’s the air up here
I have no plans, no place to stay
Only one road that I must take
I’ve heard before, that the traveler who
Has no plans is he who is happiest