2017, POETRY, Syllable Tapestries

ticking of the clock

There’s silence
except for the ticking of the clock.
can you hear it.
the weight of it.
yes the weight of it;
simply put;
the heart’s hiding a tick here
and another one there.
And you wonder
where those seconds went

I remember the days
when there were hands on the clocks,
and I could sit there
watching those shaky hands
slowly tick around the face.

as often as you gaze through me.
I can only ask from you
is the truth.
and the time.
confused and stumbling
down the sidewalk,
just knowing
there’s no way
I’ll ever get
to the end of this street
without falling on my face,
with those hands
telling me it’s time.

2017, dreams, notes, Syllable Tapestries, thoughts

Beautiful day

Beautiful day
The sun was open
Shining down
Dusk was the same
Took a nap
Had a dream
of something coming on my face
Dragged myself in the house
And to the bed.

At work the next day
People kept asking
Me two questions.
Did my power go out cause of the storm?
And what was the cut above my eyebrow?

What storm?
The day was beautiful
From my perspective.

And as for the cut above my eyebrow.
Well didn’t know it was there.
Not a mirror person.
Can a dream hurt You?

The next morning
I went out on the porch
To drink my Apple cider
Before I got ready for work
I noticed a broken plate
Where I had been lying on the porch
Gazing at the sky
The night before last
And the potted plant
That had been on it
Beside it
Dirt everywhere.

Then I put it all together.
Dreams can hurt you.

2017, Domina, notes, POETRY, thoughts

You say goodbye

You’ve got stars
moving across the sky,
a little too close
Forcing you
to open up your eyes,
That this was the moment
You had to say goodbye.

Broken dreams cower to the side
They could’ve conquered you,
But you let ’em go hide.
With all these things said
You must realize
That it’s time
you say goodbye.

She paces the floor
Screaming at you
Cause you won’t
give her money for more rock
And you know
It’s time you said goodbye.

The cigarette is snapped to the sky
It’s ember circling the eye
And she steps into the alley way
I reply
It’s time I said goodbye
Time to say goodbye.

2017, A Mythological Autobiography of a Wolf, notes, POETRY, thoughts

Annie and Mary

it’s funny what pops in your mind
while you’re working.
for me
it was Annie and Mary,
a pair of Aussie sisters I had when I was a kid.
they had totally different personalities.
Mary didn’t bark nor growl,
she just bit ya.
And there was Annie,
she was the sweatest thing I’ve ever known,
she was my best friend,
we played baseball together,
hiked together
even slept together.
But tonight I was thinking
of us swimming in the creek on the farm.