At works end, a chef returns with new hope,
a finished crew-mate, ground up, he sings,
brazenly flung to fire, grows ice to cope,
bags slung back, packed and repacked his strings,
back to grind, brings home far more than things,
post-its to pages on red pennant seas,
fortitude mashed with what missing her brings,
phrases by learning which stung by degrees,
his home will leap to his life all anew,
the nimbus recedes relieving the haze,
proud of real build-up, new skin there grew,
turned back again, saw his ship in a daze,
lines cast away, they replaced him today,
chapter closed, work done, headed home to stay.
Thoughts A Hundred Different
From that idea I read some more, and thought about it still, til before the sun went down on me, I put the grist back in the mill.
I marshalled lexicon as generally things begin, I forgot my first words unrecorded, and had to make them up again.
From there I slept, so wearied then, I crawled back up worse for the wear, and started out again.
I groaned and gathered, purged and spout, I can't remember why, and gave my heart an extra beat, and stumbled towards the sky.
The jets trails choked me, just enough, an engineering dream, but cracked my head upon the plan, so alluring did it seem.
I played at war with friends long lost, it bores me to admit, I lighted up a match of glory, and though without me it stayed lit.
By pride I played with daisy chains so fragile with nature's glory, and stumbled into peers a-peering disapproving my appearing story.
Behind curtains were called to sobbing, every last of us, applause lit up a painted face, a recital's glory garnished thus.
Fast-forward stop the picture clears, don't weep for sadness borrowed, the strength of us is what is lost and how strongly we remembered.
Eighty-nine I started playing, what famous never was, a child with fingers and a marvelous toy, better at playing than practicing because;
A piano has a theory larger, visible above the water, but sound plumbs depths as deep and red as oceans or a millenial martyr.
So hats I wore, and hats I sold, what was visible upon my head, a thinking cap lay just beneath, still marked with blue and red.
Grand places filled the halls of grand ideas in my head, while my feet were journeymen to the apprentice making bread.
Through toil won was one or two, experience I mean, from contact eyes learn meaning hidden, through glistening they glean.
Smiles be-gleaming, kept decay at bay, while laughing, running, hoaxing, cunning, hoping, pining, sitting, talking, becoming graduation day.
But where? and how? what? just happened, where'm I gonna go, look back they said, and forward then, and so I wandered to and fro.
A love that found me, who had a place, she held us firm while I gave chase.
We wound around astoundedly so, and I sat not hearing, but knowing she cleared my old to and fro, un-rusting those old bearings.
But I had to eat, I needed sleep, I wanted little more, replacing myself off the grid, my red-blue stamp bought less from the store.
I'd learned of ancient tribes who suffered pains unknown, how to this life would it compare, to trade in pain for a manufactured home?
Twenty-two, a nice round number, a good time too, though every bliss was traded in for the suffrage of staying blue.
I sought out scamps and learned from them, the strut I needed to feel, to conquer demons forged arcane with sorcerous unfamiliar steel.
Somehow shone through all of this was mighty joy and jury, good friends held tears like chainlink fence when frost is followed by Sol's great hurry.
In this link we held us fast our weight and water carried, so soon we sought a post to plant, we dug the soil with those we married.
Must I mention it stands to reason that no two are alike, we're all the same that we all link fences blazing trails where others hiked.
So wide awake yet weary wandered I into the dream, into confusion that often fell like leaves upon my stream.
Conquered I with thinking streams the pollution of the past, in the birth of whole new children we saw our lighted path.
Sacrifice we condescend, can't fool ourselves to love, but clear to us when newborns cry that their needs shall be above.
Untroubled forward steps were taken each smaller than the last, through dance or stumble plans mistaken for the real path of paths.
Into the world a mighty nation with mighty riteous goals, too bad the sons and daughters died for unworthy truths never told.
Too bad indeed because to there from here we'll always go, until the light of worldly minds know how we reap and what we sow.
Advantage we say lies in hiding all the cards away, but games are played more advantageously when all the cards can be in play.
True you'll lose some time, and such is luck for winners too, but up in heaven the rich won't last because it's common through and through.
Now I don't gamble much but small wagers are A-Ok. Give me all vacations and I'll bet the rest away.
Six times six I'll likely be, once I make it to that year, when my bets pay off as proof of all the things I've said in here.
Lancing Freelance Folding
It's an effort to stand up tall
I school myself, it's in there still
back when eyes raised high in quest
arose questions unanswered best
that way predisposed implosions
separated best by loss of neurons
farewell connections, intimated host
projecting quests where inward folded most
wandering he might weight his steps
unfolded, stopped, beset, and rest,
one side to many, to many the best
gave voice to body, ennerving behest.
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