One
Birthday to birthday
Chained to memories
Evolving as predicted, and how
The claws of the seas
The truth can be felt
Revolving on tongues
Sometimes swallowed
Sometimes leaping from the jaws of songs
Whatever we are
Slowly fading
Everybody moving through
Ever masquerading
The man, a man
One with no name
Out there somewhere
Part of a game
For heaven's sake
They don't return
No chin to shoulder
Behind you burns
Exquisite eye
Feast upon
The humour of
Watching where the river goes until it is gone
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Two
Dearest nameless folk,
For having no name doesn't mean one does not exist. The memory bank and truly odd games. You are out there, similarly ageing, grey hair appearing, the days grinding you down. Doubtless there are highlights, flickers of joy, memories of all the toys, living lies, because that's all there is to survive.
Turn off lights. You try the darkness on for size, see how it fits. For those who know it too well it doesn't come recommended. Remember the tunnel.
I could wish you happiness but what would that matter. In foreign places little can unite us. But, that is just perspective. Somebody's narrow perspective. Tunnels without light. Strange ones indeed.
You once spoke words and I forgot your name. They met me like arrows, clawed their way inside, rattled around and caused damage, changing a man forever, but somehow that isn't allowed.
But today is a special day. I suppose they all look and feel the same, but it's special I'm told. I wish you well, perhaps even for a dream fulfilled to exit from the wishing well, find you and comfort you, even as we age we need the comfort kids knew. Turn the light on. Like a nephew's night time light. Darkness is for going nowhere. Nowhere at all.
Eternally,
The Hobo Artist
