one waking moment

this house is cold and I’m frozen to it
two steps away from out the door
and I’ve finely found something worth the world
and the words
the moments within
the hours
and other increments of time
but I have an oblivious habit
of stumbling straight onto the tracks
resting my head on it’s shoulder
and running the train off it’s path

this house is defiantly and icebox
preserving all within
and Id like to peek behind those doors
runaway with the cat
and o’ a bottle of thick red sin
shout at the sun for waking me up
and the heat rain that makes me dance
and the peace and stinging toes of the snow
and the part of a flame that’s blue
making you wonder
how blue can warm anything at all
and the trees that whisper seduction till my legs throw me up,
(weather I want to or not )
to hide at the top
and see all through a mess of green and growth
and the wind that rustles a butterfly loose of a long enough land
and the pride of a mountain as it steps onto your path
and the little rivers delicately carving trough them,
always on their way to ending the pilgrimage
in Great Mother Ocean
and that fucking ocean, just like the whales within
tossing and turning and playing with you
till she swallows you whole
or gently rolls you back onto the land
and the sand that sticks around
all over everything
for days and weeks and months
till Grim eventually pours it over your dead head
and the music that’s strong and will forever live on
and the dreams and children in the stars
and the moon that smiles and wont let me.....
wont let me
wont
let
me


Sleep


so if you can see through
this wonderful haze
of distant disaster for sure
grab yourself and a smoke
hold on tight
cause this ticket never expires
and you bought one at the door
boarded the train heading for chaos
stowed luggage and all
and somewhere down the line there’s a girl
making love to the tracks and the trees
cause the moon is out along with the wind
and she can’t even think about sleep
and there’s a chance she could wreck the train
or just hop on
heading homeward
instead