100th post

A is for the apple in a bowl of oranges

L is for lucky charms marshmallow thief

I is for the most important person in the world ever

S is for short...

O is for an octopus whose sixth and seventh legs are obsolete

N is for... nobody beats alison

new skies.

well if these new skies come down like the last
i will shield my eyes like the past
and look at the ground again

instead of my mouth, i'm gonna use my pen
drop a couple thoughts that won't come again
not soon and not forever

sputnik.

"An intense love, a veritable tornado sweeping across the plains-- flattening everything in its path, tossing things up in the air, ripping them to shreds, crushing them to bits. The tornado's intensity doesn't abate for a second as it blasts across the ocean, laying waste to Angkor Wat, incinerating an Indian jungle, tigers and all, transforming itself into a Persian desert sandstorm, burying an exotic fortress city under a sea of sand. In short, a love of truly monumental proportions."

from Murakami's Sputnik Sweetheart

leaving.

when time runs thin, we will come back here again.
the questions that we leave behind, they remain unanswered.
we'll pick them up again.

my cave holds warmth, my cave holds hope,
my bed stays firm, it is strong, so it can hold me,
through all of this.

if we don't feel the same, i won't be surprised.
remember me in various spots, with various words in my mouth.
when we return, we will do it all again.

book.

the ocean creased between your brows,
you looked through me to the window pane. drops,
of the selfishness we embody
rise and fall in your chest.
and i see how you are like me.

borrowing from me my lifts, my gentle daily riffs,
you made me travel to retrieve my book.
having read it with your preconceived hate,
your hair danced while your head shook.
and i felt the wind we ate.

the road.

Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its beginning. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.

From Cormac McCarthy's 'The Road'

nature.

a violation of nature, but you are my nature.
i bow out of fights. turn on the red lights. turn on the sun overhead.
i am no warrior. i am no man.
i drew some water from the lake, poured it out for you.
a desecration of the soil, but you are my soil.
i step out of time. turn back our clocks. turn on the sun overhead.
and the grass will grow beneath our small feet.

-------------------

in my head, i go out walking with the surf,
the water crawling in to my bones,
bringing this dried out figure back to life.

my days here hold no number,
dawns and dusks colliding over pavement.
in my head, it is always raining,
i turn my face to the sky, and hold you close.
i open my eyes to find you’ve slid away,
lightly running towards the horizon.

i want to chase you, find you in the shadows.
but my feet won’t leave the ground.
and my throat won’t make a sound.

in my head, I wade in to the flood.
empty, head to toe. let go.
a man floating away with no blood.

---------------------

give your heart away to those who will take it.
give your life away to the wind.

= )

if your life is a song,
then play it as you hear it inside you,
when you lay your head down to sleep.
if life becomes a poem,
then write the images that come to you while you dream.

april.

buried in a bloom of feeling,
i don't find this appealing. take it away.

i could be the buds, the tree,
the ones you thought were me.
i could be the rocks, the stream,
the leader of a team.
but i'm not.

the night is kicking it's cold,
they call this feeling old. take me away.

falling with a hot desire,
april and it's rain inspire. take me away.

i could be a hero, a saint,
a smile so strong, though still so faint.
i could be a child, with a mighty stance,
i could dance, and dance and dance.
but i'm not.