Starred tar tears from the night’s wheels – hunkered over rows of roads as my minds eyes gallop to their next scene.
Their next gig of reflection.
My head stretches like burnt plasticine from screen screen, from moon to moon. The minnows of my windows swim to the jeweled breeze of trees. Leaves at their knees. There’s a broken beat to the frozen heat, panting for a sexy sun to smooth its way to breathe another day.
Hiking clouds of clouds,
Skipping groping ropes of sandy shade.
The lungs of my soul spill out over a stranded stream of stunned summer scenes starved of oxygen. My wrenching winter wraps me in this endless night! Dang it. I need to sleep. 🙂
“Ten Years Later”
The sun hiked mountains of clouds, skipping ropes of shade.
“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is God’s gift, that’s why we call it the present.” – Joan Rivers
Summoning soothing memories has breathed life into the lungs of my soul.
Today, a page of the past turns over new meaning as I learn my childhood neighbour’s mother has passed from the physical to the metaphysical.
Nina Budman’s energy energizes my paving my past paths to my present ponds of thought.
Once stagnant. Now flowing.
“I was so much older then; I’m younger than that now.” – Bob Dylan
Football and kindergarten. We were all so much wiser then. Selfless sacrifice and meaningful manners. No stop signs required. Just a soul. A non-pasteurized soul.
Starred tar tore from the night’s wheels – hunkered over rows of roads as we galloped to our next gig.
“Don’t Forget Your Ocean” I forgot my ocean While sipping at your bay Your eyes.. They swam to me – Warring waves of sand.. They hardened me – Your hand, my hand And tiny hands They try to understand.. Why I forgot my ocean While sipping at your bay I’m begging me to stay The sun’s turning me to clay While I forget my ocean, While sipping at your bay I’m begging me to stay I’m begging me to stay Climbing out my mouth I’ve headed down south Where I forgot my ocean While sipping at your bay
“Nigh, nigh” Beneath the floorboards of the sky, And through the wings of evergreens, I hang my dreams within the seams of low-strung streams That feed the mouths of my wide open heart that thumps it out whilst the sun readies to fly, as the moon draws nigh..
“Day to Day”
Shuffling from moon to moon
A jeweled breeze of trees, leaves at their knees, slyly swoon
To the beat of the trembling feet
Of frozen heat, tucked away
Until the stolid sun finds its way to breathe another day.
Ancient warriors signed the sands with their flowing hands.