Homemade Desert (Just Tuesday) (7/2018)

Homemade Desert (Just Tuesday) (7/2018)

I write on an elephant.
Home, made. Desert.
Elephant’s alone with me.
It’s so warm, so they all stay inside.

Except the neighbors, they’re fighting again.
They make my moments rebegin.
Her car won’t start.
The other, she has no heart.
Spinning lights are movin’ in and
I’m headed to the grocery store.

I walked down an aisle.
Why does cheese cost five?
Why so many cereals?
Boxes and fake smiles.
Think it’s still just Tuesday.

I’ve walked for a mile.
Am I still alive?
Why so much salami?
Why did I just smile?
Think it’s still just Tuesday.

The fuzz was leaving. Quiet, soon, again.
They made my moment rebegin.
‘This tow truck starts.’
Today I feel I have a heart.
Spinning lights are moving out and
I’m back from the grocery store.

Writing on an elephant.
Home, made. Desert.
Elephant, music and me.
It’s so warm, the middle of the night.

I think it’s still just Tuesday.

Smile That Shuffle (7/2018)

Smile That Shuffle (7/2018)

Prickly green scenes.
Strings strumming strung out fingers.
Looking for his place, where there aren’t any trees.

Sugar coated foam.
Bee sting finger building boards,
Begs to build a home.
Walk beneath with memories, looking up at these.

Tired, friendly, worn out face.
Inside himself, tries to find his place.
Never sleep through the night.
Awake, gotta move, gotta leave.
Gotta get goin’ it’s already light.
Don’t know why.

Penguins pace playgrounds at night.
Short slides for miles, chainlink swings.
Sandcastle queens knowing everything.
Dripping. Fleet leaking from the stereo,
Like a smile that shuffle brings.

Geodesic domes, doubt, wind blows and
they wake up to the stereo.

Tired weather screens.
Wears green, grinning, he’s invisible, lingers.
Searching for his place where there aren’t any trees.

In his head is not how it seems.
Begs to build a home,
Because he’d love to sleep and dream.

Buried (7/2018)

Buried (7/2018)

In some ways, it’s already yesterday.
I don’t know how I made it.
I got buried.
I dug in. Got dug out by people I dig.
Pulled out by people I love.
Why do people get buried?
Wake up one day and for one year, more.
Buried.
More. It gets scary.
Everyday, being buried.
Surrounded by so much love,
You know it.
But you know knowing isn’t feeling.
Feel it?
The worst feeling is not feeling it.
I got buried.
I don’t know how I made it.
If I’ve made it,
Yet.
I don’t bet against me.
Or you. People who stay true.
They’ve been buried.
They say it builds character.
I’m surrounded by characters.
Seen both sides.
If you haven’t dug in, been pulled out,
Lost it, been buried, knew and not felt
New feelings they told you about –
I’ll just never understand.
No envy.
It’s so hard and it happens
And we make it and
It’s worth it.
We’re heroes and we don’t know it.
We feel it.
The strongest people I know
Got thrown back to getting buried.
Too many times.
You’re moving, they’re dying, leaving,
Driving, flying, work’s crazy, more driving,
You’re lost and found.
Buried at the bottom of the lost and found.
Your heart pounds.
Your heart beats so loud,
It keeps you from sleeping
And there aren’t enough hours or days
To do everything and nothing at all
And you just
Want
To
Sleep.
Dream of when it’s over.
Settles down.
Feet back on the ground.
And it happens.
Somehow, it happens.
People (you) pull you out.
Pushed them all away
And think you’ve gone insane, then
It gets clear and they’re all still here.
‘Happy you made it.’
Nothing ever makes sense,
But somehow it happens.
You wake up.
Mirror, own eyes, realize,
Open up, appreciate love you’ve found.
It surrounds.
You love how it all sounds
And it’s loud.
And you’re proud.
And that’s allowed.
No lights and it’s bright
You know? You feel it?
It feels like just yesterday
And you’re humbled.
In some ways, it’s already yesterday.
You don’t know how you made it.
You got buried.

At least that’s how I felt.
Partially buried, now, myself.

Ball of Twine (7/2018)

Ball of Twine (7/2018)

Widowed paws, pause – no Stop.
Play with my mind.
Cats, skylines, women,
Songs scratch this little ball of twine,
It’s mine.

Sax stranger, drive me wild.
Play with the night.
Love, roses, women.
Pick me up and leave it behind,
It’s time.

He spent his own money
For a little more of his time
And I didn’t park where I wanted to.
Our poems sang, spoken in the same spot.
Thank you,
For a little more of your time.

Years ago, stood right there.
Jammed with a knight.
Time, no dimes, women.
Fly away, it wasn’t my crime.
My life.

Stella sang, soul so blue.
Played it just right.
Storied, Wolf, women.
Fix it up and make me feel fine
Tonight.

Mister,
Thank you for your time.

Oven (7/2018)

Oven (7/2018)

Third story, oven,
Looking out at the trees.
Thinking of things I thought I would be.

Dust swirling, oven,
Castles latched on the breeze.
Traveled at night, so far from the sea.

When all the dust settles, we’ll laugh about this
Over coffee and wine.
I dream of smooth sailin’.
Leon’s singin’ Shine.

Over coffee and wine
Inside, out of this oven.
Leon’s singin’ Shine.
Outside, out of this oven.
Dream of smooth sailing.

Rain falling, oven.
Little lakes in the wind.
Rinse me. Fill us up, we are worn thin.

Green sunset, oven.
Your color’s in the sky.
It makes me home and it takes my night.

When all this dust settles,
Old puzzles over coffee and wine.
It’ll be so easy,
Everything will shine.

Somehow Have Me (7/2018)

Somehow Have Me (7/2018)

Skipped stones and steeped thought.
I walked for years before I got lost.
And I never knew I’d be alright,
If I slept all the way through the night.

There is a light inside me,
It gets so bright, it blinds me.
We speak through song
And I don’t know what I’m sending.
Just liked how it sounds.

I didn’t know what I was sending,
Now I’m singing in my head.
These songs, they whisper
While I’m laying in my bed.

There is a spark inside me.
It breaks the dark, it starts me.
We speak through song
And I can feel what you’re sending.
I always liked how it sounds.

You seem to know what you’re sending.
Like your heart heard what was said.
Your songs, somehow, have me
Feeling home in my own bed.

Your songs, somehow, have me.

Only your songs.
Have me home in my own bed.
Send me your song.
Send me to sleep,
There are dreams in my head.

Your songs, somehow, have me
Feeling home in my own head.

Denver to the Desert (7/2018)

Denver to the Desert (7/2018)

The leaves changed with the terrain.
Leaves left and came with the terrain.
We listened to the Cities during sunset here.
Years ago.
So I gave it a spin in the dark.
Thought of you and then everything.

Her crazy drives me wild
Her insane makes me smile.
Maybe she just amazes me.
It’s been forever since anything has.
Will you wait for me?

Right now, to me, love means everything.
The weight of waiting.
Find peace in creating.
What does what you do mean to you?
What does it bring to you?
What means what love means?
Nothing.
It feels like everything.
What means more than what love means?
Nothing. It’s everything.

Paul and June were singing songs about waiting.
The day was fading.
Tom was breaking, but it’s alright.
Tires weren’t moving, I was tired.
Fading. Feeling crazy.
Let’s go.

Crazy.
Make me question me and then learn.
A lesson with myself without a chalkboard.
Relax, water and breathe.
Hope I get to me in time for you.

Leaves left hours ago, I did too.
All these things we’ll overcome
Before we find we’ve just begun.
In my head, I’m already in bed
And I’m not alone.
We’ve had so many beginnings.
I could have sworn I took this turn already.
In my head, I’m already in bed
And I know I’m not alone.