Day 305 - Do You Hear What I Hear?

Day 304 - Cup

Day 303 - Lean

Day 302 - Blue

Day 302 - Men In Suits

Day 301 - Monday Is Free Coffee Day

Day 300 - Mirror

Day 299 - Clouds

Day 298 - A Different Shirt

Day 297 - Old Dog Poem

We are old but still living,

The colours are changing.

We watched the colours change

As the year died.

Trudging knee high

Through fallen leaves

On rotten afternoons,

Lugging heavy heads

Bar to bar,

Like old dogs

In the face of cold winds,

To stubborn to move along

From sniffing the same old street.

Day 296 - Workplace Guide to Meaning

Day 295 - Cold

Day 294 - The Winter Fly

What good does it do to complain?

The fates are as blind as these winter flies

Lying dead upon the sill.

This morning I swept up at least three,

Their vacant bodies still intact

Like cars abandoned on a roadside.

Simple as that-

Life a light touch,

A mere forty eight hour

In the light of a dirty window.

Still what meaning is there anyway?

Besides an overarching sense

That all matters must be tied together somehow,

That even now a spider is unpicking itself

From it’s station

And stepping silently this way.

Day 292 - Cat Poem

Though he won't succeed

The cat will try and convince you

To think better about your life,

There's something 

Noble in the manner 

In which he continues

To pull you from the page,

Clinbing aboard your desk

To lure you into his furtive game.

His agenda remains so simple,

It's like the moon 

When it comes peering at your window

Trying to bathe you

In its plated glow;

Motives so pure,

They work only in scaring you half to death.

Day 291 - Cat

Day 290 - Recline

Day 289 - Specks

Day 288 - Girl

Day 287 - The Stream

Day 286 - What I Need To Do

Day 285 - Max

Day 284 - Street

Day 281 - Thought

Day 280 - Scrap - Fine Day

A fine day, 

Warm winds nestled like birds in corners

Of sleeping buildings.

Women sprang from the pavement

Like poses on a first spring day.

We drank coffee on tree lined street,

The kind in photos of old Europe,

Laughing and debating past noon

About a far off war.

Day 279 - Note Book Poem

All night sadness drifts

Behind my eyes

Like tattered clouds across the sky

I think of reaching out -

How lovely the earth at night

My mind run away

Like a reel of old film

Across many continents,

Where horses jump through dreams

In a flash of light

And an engine weaves through darkness

On cold steel rails

And the ocean turns upon itself

Rising and falling

Like my chest in the darkness

Of an empty room.

My mind gone blank

Like the first darkened theatre

At the birth of cinema

Day 278 - Street

Day 279 - Invisible Man

Day 278 - Every Morning

Every morning I play this game

Of placing my rucksack on the seat

Beside me to ward away the same man

Who climbs aboard the bus

Talking to himself and

Smelling like sour milk,

No, it’s not good to start you day

With an act of dishonesty

Towards your fellow man

But nobody wants to look truth

In the eye at 6.45 am.

Day 277 - The Big Sleep

 

Day 276 - Skeleton