#heartland
shirtless screaming through
the heartland and I used
to smoke cigarettes
too.
she never wanted
to stay: the youth
she had
left demanded it.
now, I'll wager
she's somewhere
in an apartment with
some dandy that
wears sweater vests
to Thanksgiving dinner.
maybe she thinks
about me and my little
twisted heart every
now and again:
like when she's away
from the sweater vest
on the toilet
behind a locked door,
"be right out, babe!"
or toting groceries
through a parking lot
to her car,
or signaling a
left turn before
changing her mind
and deciding to
go straight instead.
and
maybe I need to
stop thinking
about her
especially after
three years
incommunicado
but what can I say?
I've never slept on
a bed of nails
I couldn't
dream on.
Feb 27, 2021
Feb 27, 2021 at 9:34 AM UTC
As the crow flies south from capital city
With soaring moonshine he coasts into synchronicity
Highways below dissolve into forgotten whispers
Like a rear view mirror sees only memories in its disappearing
Visual ****** initiates and fills this polychromatic cruise
Starting with a quiet historic ruse
Contesting over which of the two
echo shadows for optical repeal
the many leaves of kaleidoscope hues
That keep a running legacy since time before our time
and / or
Buried horizon from endless layers of skyward hills
Hills that have been storing a primitive foundation for the growing of substructure foliage in order to be able to drop its petals and leaves
Resolve is left with the one true and unbiased impartial decider...
the wind
to form a fair measure of mediation
From the human view
All are merely a preview for the impromptu quest
In an attempt to catalyze foreshadow and paint memory for the drive out west
To approach from afar
The destination appears to be a resting
shape of an antiquated location
splashed with opaque aromas,
sensory weaving visuals,
and
Melodic tones of nostalgic definition
Emitting vibrations of soothing tremolo that quiver throughout the body
this multi-strip string of singular select shops
Is the alignment initiative in the countryside
forecasting a manifest
for the hazy occasion
Anointing inspiration over the heartland’s artland
That nearly only hope,
could create
Invisible snows sprinkle over roads like a magic red carpet of threaded tranquility in its coat
Enticing, Welcoming, and Lighting up this neck of the west
And opening into the
Woodland Hills of Little Nashville
———-—————————————-——————————
Oct 3, 2019
Oct 3, 2019 at 6:10 PM UTC
my true inner self
secret person of the heart
~ heartland of my soul
Mark Toney © 2021
May 17, 2021
May 17, 2021 at 1:16 AM UTC
If my heart pours out
If the rains turns to snow
Then my heart shall find rest
To the delight of the world
If a cry for blood burns like a fire
In the far land of kasheki, then the song of the heartland shall be sung by the hyena's
If the moon shodows it's beauty under the blue skies
A roar shall be heard in the sea deepth
To the voices of the earth
I just want to sing beneath the sun
beneath the clouds
Jan 1, 2022
Jan 1, 2022 at 5:39 AM UTC