"come on, Forget-Me-Not!" flirted emerald Snapdragon,
"tell me, what’s it like to have control over me, for once?"
like fire, the cerulean bloom did crackle and hiss
and walked away in a heated, dreadful silence.

"why do you call me that?" asked uncertain Snapdragon,
"tell me, why don’t you speak with me like you used to?"
like salt, the windowed flame did flicker thrice -
and was swept away by the threatening, stormy sea breeze.

"please, my sun-kissed Fox," begged hesitant Snapdragon,
"shower me in loving words like you did before."
like rain in drought, the elusive creature did rarely show his face,
if so, only for laughter’s sake, to break the horrid silence.

"tell me, darling Forget-Me-Not," pleaded melancholy Snapdragon,
"why don’t you love me anymore?" oh how she sobbed
as, like childhood, her Snapdragon self become part of his past -
he shrugged his pale, fragile shoulders, swaying in the salty breeze.

"dear seaside Sunset," wrote tragic Snapdragon, "I am truly sorry,
I miss our days in love. your presence filled a hole in me, now empty."
but far too long in blinded oversight, Forget-Me-Not had stood,
and much too late did adoring Snapdragon realise her mistake.

How beautiful you are to me
With your varieties of colors and such
I look at you with great awe
Your beauty is my inspiration

No thrones and hooks
Just smooth skin and good looks
Not to big and not too skinny
Some how you managed
To be a perfect balance

You stand tall with pride
You stand in unity with your family
With your chest facing toward the sun
Ahh your beauty is something  
i want to become

As time grows old
My admiration for you dies
You lose your beauty
Your face turn into nothing but old bones
Black as the night
As if you hold dark secrets
Like you've been through a rough life
A story untold

Snapdragon prints on a summer cotton dress
Your body gave them vibrance when you danced,
your laughter gave the petals sweet fragrance,
your bouquet
a shroud of decadence.

Marines call to say hello,
impress. I'm over 35 but my boys
19. They could go: Hide!

One moment spent tying a shoe,
another dying, gunshot wound or poisoned food.
Events in their mere chronology
                                                      ­ make no sense.
And the details of yr dad's life don't either.
                                                         ­               Late night
quiet cigarette smoker. But next day,
the butts cleaned into the can. Who does that?
Lady in a skirt or overalls rolled up - cigarette smoke.
Now it's yr dad.
                            Yr dad who
                                                 watches for war.

Even if Uncle Sam disbands, dissolves
we the people will still be here and stay involved
with North America. The purple mountains majesty
                           and shining seas
little people, big people, brown, red, and white. Addicted
                           to action movies.
Perhaps there is no choice. One must sit, sitting still
                           as a buddha, sitting bull.
I can imagine myself and all others - drivers, voters, runners -
                           little fetal muscles
at first. Metastasizing. What's it called when the cell
                           at the tip of the *****
or organism, divides, and the ***** grows? It's called
                           ******* a bicycle.

I find I make no sense. Her ****, a practicality to her, is
                           delicious to me
a miraculous sea lettuce or snapdragon. You've heard it before.
                           A moral dilemma
wrapped in robes and silks and odors. Yet, come close,
                           and business beckons
work gets done, life goes on, hair grows in, we go on
                           vacation
the Marine Corps calls, desperate for new fetuses to teach
                           purposeful workmanlike killing
I'll do my own killing, thanks, when violence comes to the
      neighborhood
                           if I've got your back
your back's gotten and if I'm on point, the point's taken.

One world under God invisible with liberty and justice for all who
                           Art in heaven
what the hell's his name.
                                          Nemesis.
        ­                                                  Hysterical.
The small war of an especially inept empire. The world's too big
to swallow as the Krauts and Nips found out. Empire
is self-correcting. Them dark-skinned mustachioed *******
who can't fix their own electricity seem to be kicking our *****
pert good. As did the ***** before them. All to the good. A
good lesson to know and then we all become friends following
the brawl. We apparently cannot skip the fight. It must
be fought, and **** the girls.

My sky is blue
Broken-china-blue
Today

Not as yours or his or anyone’s
Not robin’s egg happy-hue
Or hopeful cornflower-color
Not rolling-ocean-peace
No endless expanse
Over a world full of possibility

But my sky is blue
Crying-eye- blue
Today

I don’t remember
The exact color of the car
That took you away
But in my mind’s eye
It should be this blue
My blue

Because my sky was blue
Teardrop-truth-blue
That day

Such a contrived color,
Overused metaphor:
Sad-blue, dead-blue
Burning-blue-gray like my hate
For all the words
We’ll never share
For desperation
For lost beginnings
Estranged from happy endings
And foregone conclusions
And decisions made
By a woman whose pasty face
Is still burned as

A blue-print in my mind
Of the person I
Never want to become

The woman who
Unknowingly
Painted my world
In red-fury and
Burnt-orange-bitter goodbyes
Thoughtless paintbrush
Strokes making sure

That my sky was blue
Crisp-autumn-cloudless blue
That day

When you and I
Were both too young
For understanding
Just
Children caught up
In the real world
For the first time

Yes, my sky is blue
Snapdragon-fire-blue
Today

When seven years later
I think I’m
Still not old enough
To comprehend

Why my sky is blue
Bittersweet-baby-blue
Today

Because they
Took you away
Because you’ll never
Know my name

Even though I’ll
Remember yours
For the rest of my life

Having not done the things I wanted to do
and the things I've done not being what I wanted to do
I sit here looking at lichen on the north side of trees.

Black-capped chickadees
cheerful and truthful expression
grouped in platoons, sharing the point.

The tribes travel together
first finches, then chickadees
following the squirrels every morning.

What luxury, abundance! Handful after handful
of grass seed thrown, into wind.
The corn ripe and the rye with it.

The other main families: pines, roses, peas,
lilies, daisies, heath, birch and oak.
Maple, honeysuckle, pink, mustard, cypress, mint, olive,
      buckwheat, primrose, willow, buttercup, saxifrage,
      snapdragon, cactus.

Truth may be ascertained by considering
the truth we feel, the truth we're told,
the truth we reason, and the truth we've seen.

It is so good to be a chickadee.
To tell the truth cheerfully and joyfully.
In a way that makes others want to live.

Brown conker shine
bluebell chime
snowdrops
drop

Yellow dandelion
roar

Feel the flame
of the snapdragon,
the brightness of
sunflower.

"Four - Breaking Even"
February 4th, 2014
Valerie Viele

I am a creation. I am a maiden. I am a creator. I am a crone.
I am dawn. I am noon. I am evening. I am midnight.
I am a girl. I am a temptress. I am a neither. I am a goddess.
I am a daughter. I am a *****. I am a mother. I am a lineage.
I am a sister. I am a best friend. I am a vague acquaintance. I am a messenger.
I am a child. I am a ******. I am a lover. I am a wife.
I am a princess. I am a beauty queen. I am a damsel in distress. I am a warrior.
I am a daisy. I am a snapdragon. I am a rose bud. I am a lilly.
I am a smile. I am a wink. I am a laugh. I am a snort.
I am a frown. I am a cold shoulder. I am a forgiver. I am a resolver.
I am a question. I am a questioner. I am a question mark. I am a answer.
I am a butterfly kiss. I am a bumble bee sting. I am a cicada hiss. I am a caterpillar tickle.
I am a cupcake. I am a box of chocolates. I am a glass of wine. I am a bowl of oatmeal.
I am a doll. I am a model. I am a celebrity. I am a infamous figure.
I am a game master. I am a rule-breaker.  I am a tyrant. I am a player.
I am a brat. I am a train-wreck. I am a witty retort. I am a knowing silence.
I am a ballerina. I am a dancer. I am a performer. I am a choregrapher.
I am a goodie two shoes. I am straight "A." I am a graduate. I am a mentor.
I am a tomboy. I am a mess. I am a fresh-pressed suit. I am a mumu.
I am a sneer. I am a red pair of lips. I am a pout. I am a broad grin.
I am a skinned knee. I am a bruised ego. I am a battered soul. I am a healed heart.
I am a piece of candy.  I am a piece of work. I am a master piece. I am a peace of mind.
I am a bubble gum "POP!" I am a whip-smart "CRACK!" I am a below the belt "BLOW!" I am a humble "WHISTLE!"
I am a kick. I am a slap. I am a hit and run. I am a sly trip.
I am a hug. I am a kiss. I am a ****. I am a cuddle.
I am a favorite. I am a nobody. I am a somebody. I am a everybody.
I am a challenge. I am a one-sided opinion. I am a worthy debate.  I am a open mind.
I am a bicycle. I am a fast car. I am a train. I am a stroll.
I am a pony tail. I am a bleach blonde. I am a practical bob. I am a braid.
I am a bracelet. I am a gold ring. I am a necklace. I am a bead.
I am a broken bone. I am a victim. I am a rescuer. I am a nurse.
I am a singer. I am a song. I am a composer. I am a listener.
I am a leader.  I am a runaway. I am a follower. I am a team.
I am a bubble bath.  I am a long shower. I am a quick rinse. I am a ocean dip.
I am a pond. I am a frozen lake. I am a waterfall. I am a river.
I am a castle. I am a tall tower. I am a skyscraper. I am a bridge.
I am a banshee. I am a blood-curdling scream. I am a yelp. I am a squeak.
I am a pretender. I am a liar. I am a deceiver. I am a revealer.
I am a sob. I am a woe-is-me. I am a wallow. I am a single tear.
I am a why? I am a why not? I am a no. I am a yes.
I am a sleep over. I am a house party. I am a coffee break. I am a tea time.
I am a today. I am a now. I am a tomorrow. I am a yesterday.


SSK<3

It takes some courage to eat a legume's fruit
knowing what is known of each poisonous part
of the locust (although the flowers may be frittered).

What's pushing up through the leaf litter
before the canopy is out, past the stone fence?
Wild lily-of-the-valley is my guess.

Of 140,000 soldiers, less than 1% have considered
the fruit of the desert surprisingly good and varied.
They have stayed and married women who are crows.

My own land is a land of wetlands but we too
have crows. We have waited and waited for this election
and now we're divided into just two factions.

If everyone votes and every vote's counted there will be
nothing for either faction to crow about. All will be
well with the republic and in the world what will be will be.

What responsibility does a citizen bear
for participating in a war, blowing the roofs
off houses, exposing the beds and clean-swept floors?

Warriors at the gate, you will not run,
you will not bargain. Dig in deep, feet
overhanging the abyss, protect your children.

I poured water into the dry vase of garden cultivars -
snapdragon, phlox, bigonia, bluebell, mint -
and have they not rewarded me with their collective scent?

Nestled beneath a bush so snug and warm
Waiting for the light of day
The little snapdragon sits so torn
While the fairies with the roses play
She wishes she could be like them
So free and full of light
She watches as their glow comes near
But then it's gone and out of sight

Excuse my bliss-trance
I've been seduced by the fragrant floral pheromones flooding the air,
The lilac-laced wind has wrapped my lips in splendor and
Left my eyes heavy lidded hazy
Enraptured gazing at the velvet vulvas of lilies.
The blossoming world casts it's spell of subtle sensuality
And I am left stunned in a stupor,
Heart oozing out of my orifices,
Falling in love with everything I see
Simply because it exists.
I'll caress every snapdragon to uncover it's mysterious caverns,
Stretch to kiss the slender necks of tulips,
And weave violets into my crown so our essences intertwine.
My collarbone is blushing crimson
And my head is drained of reason -
Tis the season for romantic abandon.

The Shimmer On The Blue
Dappled sunlight sparkles
Among the pinks and purples
Greens and blue.
Like the sunniest days in a garden
Where shadows cannot get through.
Pinks of a snapdragon, the rose
With its transparent  hue.
The lemons and the lime
With a clear water dew.
The speckles of white where
Snow in summer once grew.
The breeze dances on the leaves
Of the delicate bamboo.
Clouds dodge the rays
As the sun peeps through.
All in all a wonderful time in the garden
Watching the shimmer on the blue.

if love were fire
it lives in the forget-me-not heart
skipping across they keyboard, masked as rhetoric
burning through your cheeks on cold days
and at night
it dances on the tip of your tongue
and heats the arms (but not the hands) with which you hold me tight.

but if love were fire
it lives in the muscari-blossom mind.
your cast-iron heart, burning hot to the touch
your words, gently warmed
your eyes, brightly lit
your fire is contagious, it rips through me
never quite burning me out.

if love were fire
it think it lives in my snapdragon heart
it tries to to work its way out of me through my actions
to express itself in my words
constantly present but never sufficient
always prevailing but never saving
perhaps reflected, in the shape of a candle flame
in my flattered eyes.

D**id you know that when Ceres formed the moon, and hung it in the sky, it shone for you? That Apollo races his chariot across the skies because he wakes to see your face? When the seers see beauty in the bones and rocks, they see your eyes shine back at them. When the witch-men in the darkest, deepest parts of the jungle wish to bestow beauty on their callers, they invoke your name! When the Delphinewhi Oracle rocks her body, possessed with the wisdom of gods, she smiles savagely, and thanks Olympus for fashioning her in your image. When the roses blossom, and the honeysuckle blooms; when the violets show their beautiful dress, and the magnolia flaunts in the sun, they mimic you! When the lilies swim their graceful circles, and the snapdragon ushers forth it's sweet scent; when the lilac spreads its musk through my nostrils, or the dogwood dances in the wind, they devote their lives and beauty that it might stand in the shadow of your presence! Rocks crumble, and sands shift because they know you will need soft ground to tread upon. Thunders clap, and wild things wail because they envy any other that looks upon you but them! The stars themselves cast forth their light and burn themselves out because they know you will see their long-dead light, and appreciate their token of praise to you alone.

     Did you? Did you know that when Shakespeare wrote about his beautiful, mysterious woman, he thought of you? Did you know that when Horatio sung of woman's beauty, he had your face and figure upon his eyes? Did you know that when Beowulf slew the seven serpents, he fought them in your name? That Helen of Troy, and Cleopatra are your ancestors? That when Cockney resolved to fix the language he spoke, he did it in the endeavor to accurately describe your beauty?

     Alas, my littless, there is no man, nor beast, nor god that can comprehend your beauty. Save those you smile upon, all are lost in life, trying in vain to grasp the extent--the breadth and height and depth--of your immaculate form. Oh, if one could describe your smile, the earth would narry need the sun again! If man could describe the pools of color in thine eyes, man would be happy to look at a grey world to keep the memory of those prisms of light. If only one could touch you, caress the silk you wear for skin, he would be happy to never feel again....

Listless airwaves
wreak havoc across
my sun scorched
landscape.

I bend into
snapdragon
position,
lilt like August wheat
and regroup,
regenerate
my amphibious
limbs.

But I am not bold
or strong
or any of those things
that you said
when you were trying
to talk me back
from the precipice
of my jagged mind.

I am pigeon toed
and meek,
stuffing sticky sweet
secrets
into the cracks
of my palms
and turning my face away
from the lights.

I am not,
I am not
any of those things
that you said,

but I'm trying;

what will you bring away with you
when these ribs remain eclipsed by
the cresting oblong bed of
the wildest purple snapdragon?
will you take the smell of hay that
remains above the sound of hungry gasoline teeth
and dripping dismembered sap?
will you bring away this empty field
so full of passing pollen?
will you bring away these chasing thought
so lost in maddening wonder?

bring me away with you, please,
as you lift above in feathered flutters
with eyes of earnest authority.
bring me away, with you, please.

With a hint of death
mingling in the air,
the nocturnal snapdragon is
digging wells,
not just for water,
but also as final resting
places for friends back home,
in the garden,
deep within the soil.

Callous hands and feet
speak of insufficiency
and misery under the sun,
the one lone solace comes
with night,
and the partaking of
her body's delicacies,
bringing her innumerably
to the helve,
as she sings heavenly things
about the architecture
we creatures fall
so easily from.

Snapdragon expel
unpleasant perfumes of my
**** old tenderness...

The driveway's looking more like a rattlesnake
with fangs hanging halfway over home plate.
There's barricade tape draped around the landscape.
'Garden Gnomes like, "It's for your own safety."
Diamond dazed by the street light's preacher gaze
when a great escape turns into "The Great Escape."
More in common with a bucket of maggots  
than scabs in a satchel scared of the fabric.
So I went from hobbyist to a full fledged addict
with the mindset of "let's see what happens.''
Sat back and sprouted some wings like a snapdragon
then proceeded to prep the bandwagon with laughter.

How we trade passions throws for securities, and build fortresses around our hearts, losing a little of ourselves each bit

Like the way she made your soul smile with butterfly tingles in courtship.

Don't flutterbye butterfly

When last did you take in the awe of a garden, the snapdragon flowers , or with its boastful song the vibrant colors of the beautiful songbird.

Don't flutterbye butterfly

Like going to a safari park and being so disappointed for not seeing the lion and it's **** but seeing the hundreds of swallows nesting in the wall of a riverbank, or the sheer beauty of the flycatchers and bee-eaters.

Don't flutterbye butterfly

How we forget to live and love it all! Why else would God have given it all to us! How much less do we give of ourselves by not looking at life as love! Love cause God gave it all to us in love!

Don't flutterbye butterfly
Drink it's sweet nectar

          Life yeah