Dive Deep

20 Jul

 

Alaska inlet in the fog

She said play it again

and did not understand

that that sea was not all that deep

my heart only

it only has so many beats

when it’s you

I dive deep

and this sea’s not mine to leave

I said not this again

the same argument

my mind’s competency isn’t

only a sum of femur rings

because you I know me

and my sea’s well known topographically

I’m in places from when

I was not who I am

the memories I pick at the seams

this part of my life

well it feels just like a dream

when I’m with you we’re rewriting

these spots belong

to you and to me

https://soundcloud.com/mike-homnick/4-diving-deep

Tracking Dirt

24 Sep

Tracking Dirt – SoF

I sewed seeds and their harvests reveal,

the need to retread,

the paths in my head.

Ruminate while tending to plots,

I forgot,

oh, I weed a lot.

Captivate me quietly,

and take me to that place,

where the past leads the way.

I can’t slow down I am jumping between,

a bay side town,

and a swamp and a frown.

Culminate can I stop the clock?

I’m backed up at the block,

a metaphorical clot.

You can fake me perfectly,

I’ll talk about today,

in my regular way.

Step outside to a luminous shock,

with my feet in the grass,

and my eyes at half mast.

It permeates and by the time I can see,

cool grey sky has arrived,

tornado inside the eye.

Jar this ghost reality,

and take me to the place,

where I lead the way.

Rain falls down and this drought is repealed,

and it’s flooding my fields,

spring forth a bountiful yield.

I cultivate and I am present again,

you’re a delicate wind,

and you’re taking my hand.

Image: Lotus Carroll

Probably something about hands again

9 Jan

conckat 058

Michael Homnick – Moment

I’m going to blend, because the rest is blended. Only known because I’d descended, amended and transcended. Soon I’ll have those old man hands. Finger flexation result of a thought’s creation to end destination.
I’m going to blend the thing I lost and the thing I’d condemned. A long struggle come to an end.
But in the end, what will I defend?
What is false and what is true? The things in cinemas, what is staged and what is us? The difference between Lake Quinault and Las Vegas.

Same ideas, same old loops.
What’s the difference between me and you?
In between dragons and rains, remember?
I sewed seeds for complex floodplains.
I’m a new man of a different age.

Image by Pocket Images

New New Ceremony

8 Dec

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Harmonics – Gareth Dickson

Wrapped in the blanket we wove,

we’re waiting out the storm.

Sand sleet whips at windows worn.

The sands of time will eat our love.

The first tear in the fur of a bear

only after we’re bones and a pile of hair.

Thunder.

We witness the mixture of sediment.

And the ceremony is grand,

but love isn’t sand

and the process loses it’s target sentiment.

All we have is this wind.

We’re going to keep each other warm.

We cant protect from all these elements.

But we’ll leave this earth in finer form.

image:Mihai Balan

With my eyes closed, close my eyes.

17 Nov

Walk With Me – Moby

You’re all elbows and I was the soda machine,

dishing out what everyone needs,

the basket weaver ran back to the trees, and

I’m alright.

I didn’t buy cause there wasn’t bait.

He’s making these things that he hates

well it shows and you know what?

I hate them too.

Or that’s an idea from long ago,

tangled in the lost and forgot.

In this hail I love you more.

contrast wild like storm and stable ground.

A newborn and ghost.

I’ll keep you warm and an eye on the stove.

I hope there are no spirits.

Because if these dreams of mine are signs,

then who knows if I’ll see another winter.

and if there are no spirits,

I’ll build a house with you in it.

Somewhere unfinished

21 Aug

Portland Cello Project – Please Leave a Light On

Your impossible heart, it’s soft pace.

Strings of your hair don’t fade from my face

when I awake. No more strands of smoke

that fade then flash in crespular strokes

before falling in the grains of shade,

behind the bed where beauty was made.

I’m no stranger to killing in my dreams.

Fire in my heart and steel in my beams.

image: Jesper Hauge

 

I guess it’s been a while.

11 Jul

I want you to know.

You’re not the only one.

I just want you to know.

I’ve cried alone on the porch.

At some point we’ve never felt worse.

Maybe this time,

it won’t take too long.

I hope,

I hope it won’t take too long.

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