(2)
I guess it’s about that time again time for another pointless relapse Time, like a dusty album record Spinning, around and around on end I want the needle to break or veer…
Why does music speak Without line or threads of time We plug ourselves in Forming an echo cocoon Never wanting to come out
To grasp at the root This longing for the seasons Hidden deep, deep down To say it’s just “Natural,” Would only scratch the leaf-tops
Bickering tree frogs Endless croaking back and forth Dream a soothing song One where two branches can meet In this capital forest
Tiny flashing lights Figures entwine together Closer and closer ‘closer than ever’ they say Beside our computer screens
Anticipation Generic butterflies swarm Twists, knots, fluttering They find no golden nectar Only number two pencils
Fresh Seattle rain Cleanser more of soul than streets I envy that sound Such simple pure harmony Don’t forget that umbrella!
Delicate surprise From behind blind-folded eyes That glint of glitter Sprinkle, sprinkle, floating down We reach out, we grasp, we drink
The darkest of nights It is on these nights I turn To these keys, clicking Fervently beyond reason Behind safely shadowed doors
Archaic toiling Through endless character streams To drown deeper still Beneath black and white waters Until I breathe symbolly
Seasonal ill’n Ado, ado, soft achoos Cool wind seeps through me
Flickering between The realms of light and shadow Why not close the shades? Sleep’s alluring charm welcomes Despite such early hours!
My Grandfather’s last dream In a deep sea of white, heavy thun… Until a peaceful respite blinks What will it bring? Will the rain… With their piercing showers, will…
The end of the road A distance we all travel Darkness as moonlight Spreads over stone and flowers That litter our path ahead
Words without meaning An open mouth seems empty Trying to express Something that dances lightly Forefront of a clouded heart
