518,400 + Seconds

Sage and hickory sprout in my lungs,
As weariness crowds both flesh and heart,
Settle me, let me dream a breath,
Silence be warmed on memory's hearth,

Treading on daydreams with dandeli-umbrellas,
Let me one duet with my dove.
Seemingly, drippling on leaf, and dreaming me,
Hoping a twilight, doubting a dawn.

Clinging to a plume, a sane chord,
Heart dying to a darkening pulse,
Fearful forever of holding and being,
And losing to the endless distances,
Dreams . . .


- Definitely 1994

One of my favorites (I hope that's understandable). I absolutely dread the reality that I cannot equal these earlier efforts. I know for a fact this was not long after I started the Leonard Cohen drip-bag through a clutch of mixed tapes that would rattle around in my bookbag, all day and most nights.

I remember being very fond of the scents of pre-dawn summer days in that edge of suburbia where the dark woods are within view, gardens are English by necessity rather than design, and the scents bitterly overwhelm all other senses, as I started the long walks back.

Less Than A Memory

Times of fools and passions fall
In pace behind a kiss
As tear and time stroll by
I saw these dreams only made me lie

Standing by a tip of pen
Less than a memory. . .

Now I'm less than a broken word
We lay prone to each other
And supine to the world
Oh. . . to taste the tears
upon your skin

Balancing on the edge of my mind
Less than a memory. . .

Can the mind forever remember
While the heart fades and forgets
Losing within the faceted faces
Life in lives and the blood of words

Here at the ends of means
Less than a memory.

Tyes

The heavy touch of a sweaty palmed sun
Summer kisses like autumn leaves,
First warming your flesh
Soothing your eyes. . .

They're smoldering, steaming
Hot pouring downs,
Like parachutes of torn, silken ghosts

Confusing your nose.
Battering anger at your lips.

Pouring into your swollen eyes
Engorged rivers of concrete soot,
Flooding your paper clip nostrils
With burning, boiling grass, bark
Sun©dried beers and stale smoke©breaths

Your eyes climbed to the fall
Like stone birds through liquid sky
Fallen on green tufts of shotgun spreads
On the mongrel back of a mangled earth,
Like jade ringlets heralding sickness;
The wasting wit upon dull skin.