Archive | June, 2018

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29 Jun

Reading tales about the dead

Why would they care about the legacy they left?

Do across the void we carry caring gifts?

Surely love is lost after the veil lifts.

–

In awe the way the kinder ones persist

Projecting love through the grey mist.

The others get forgotten though.

Forgotten lives of the so-so.

–

The cloudy bits I left for free.

When you go and take your memory

Leaving words to some bored entity.

A whisper ripe with ambiguity.

–

Will all the love and hope I leave

Touch my children’s children’s children’s sleeve?

Will I give storied forests or will I give scribbled leaves

Based on my disinterest in my own family tree?

–

When I fail and die

Where will my values lie?

I always felt my life was mine.

Privy only to the mind that sits behind the eyes.

–

To be better than us who came before

Is my borrowed motto at the core.

Maybe with a little swirl

Of “not everyone will change the world.”

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29 Jun

And in this cold desert I love.

And if I lived on,

When this cowboy moon shone,

I’ll dip my toes in cadence flows.

–

Or if in that blue moon I shouted

of a glass beach and tap shoes,

Oh, I’d shout words that movies use.

I’d rally all those goosebump crews.

–

And when you’re cold,

If I lock eyes

when fortune’s thin

I’ll dip my smiles around you.

–

Or in the spirit of the open books I flaunted,

in the harvest hall I’ll tear my shirt.

Buttons scatter in the dirt.

My words they shoot not coy not curt.

–

Oh if I spoke my mind not with a glance,

But with some interesting and badass dance.

Oh but when I speak at all,

I say, I say, I say it all.