i find myself exhausted
by pushing forth and back emotions
like tides pulling oceans
i am drowning in the notion
that you can deny the divide
paralyzing you and I
brush it behind the door
as we brush past each other nevermore
memories of spring
while gazing on falling leaves
cracking crumbling beneath the feet
that walked so effortless over me
who i then tripped
and you fell to the bended knee
of a mellow heartless fellow
who in fact divided seas.
Moving through the pastoral serenity of rolling fields
with forests, hills and dancing streams,
Calmly flowing in golds, greens, and mists of blue
we were captured under the moonlight beams.
A winding stone path led to a wooden porch
that kept the home and heart philosophically one,
For it was there where poetry and dreams were shared
spoke by candle but forged by midnight sun.
The aged patina gently warmed the heart of pine
that lay beneath the fireplace of stone,
With an artistically hand carved mantlepiece
that held our textured book bindings as their throne.
Yes my dear we are finally home……….
You can still be
What you want to
When you first met me
Ever get that feeling of being cheated
Of being forgotten and excluded
Just because of your past?
I'm sure the blacks in this country
Feel the way I feel
Slip out from beneath the covers
Land on the floor,
Be stepped on
Time and time again,
People are creatures of habit
They slip a lie here
Put in a lie there
Hard to tell the difference
Now a days,
I just stick to myself,
Knowing what could've been
Leaf tips drip dew of the mornings hue whilst their trees release a secret into the breeze, as a siren would lure you to her depths your nature leads me home. An exhale of relief as fingers trace the contours that lay beneath tough skin, though pale and bruised as once was internal. Melancholy has ceased in a rainforest scene; a lush foliage of greens thrive without constraint, just nurture. Your canopy is of a higher being who shades violent rays from penetrating between any gap or space as we have conversation about the finer things.
Do you want to live forever?
said the Gardener to me,
tending to a creeping thought
and watering the sea.
I replied, no, but thanks, you see,
I'd rather be a tree.
And spread my branches out
shelter creatures underneath.
A tree? A tree? He whispered tentatively.
Why, I can't remember what it be.
That word. That thought. That memory.
He shook his head and shrugged at me.
(So I scratched a crude drawing in the dirt
and The Gardener squatted there pondering at it a while,
robes lifted up above bony knees)
But I do that too, said He, jumping up quite suddenly.
Pardon me, but I just see no need - No need to be a tree!
Just beg a princely role of me
and I shall fill your fantasy!
I said, thanks, but well, you see..
I'd rather be a tree.
He paused for quite a while.
Then said okay, a little hesitantly.
Then said that he would not be that okay
until he sees these silly things called trees.
And until he sees the purpose of the thing it is
that means so wonderfully much to me
want to be a tree.
So He turned me to a tree and put me in a park.
Where couples came and families
and cuddling lovers in the dark.
And colored birds were friends to me
and I sheltered all of them beneath.
And spread new life through little seeds
and quenched the world its need to breathe.
And in the autumn dropped my leaves
to feed the insects in the weeds.
I stretched my roots in
luscious ground and saw such beauty all around.
old and happy as only a tree
could ever wish or hope
And then one day I saw a face, quite out of place, was watching me.
And He said..
You are very naturally a tree
and have done so extraordinarily well in green
that I will leave you be to live your dream.
And as he walked away, it seemed
he smiled happily back at me.
be wary of the boy whose smile
doesn’t reach his eyes;
of the boy who touches your body
before he touches any other part of you;
of the boy who’d rather stay in
than take you out
and show you off.
don’t fall for the boy who swears
up and down that he’s changed,
that he’s going to put your first,
that those other girls don’t mean a thing.
stay away from the boy who doesn’t
write you love letters
and slip them into your bag,
the boy who doesn’t lay
beneath the starlit sky with you,
the boy who doesn’t compliment
you when you’re at your worst,
the boy who doesn’t keep you on your toes
because these are the kinds
of things you deserve, plus more,
and you’re way too young to feel
"oh, by the way- i didn't do it- but
the other day when i was doing dishes-"
(i heard his voice hollow out and bounce in an echo out of the kitchen sink)
my expression dropped immediately from the other room
"noooo" i cried "which one?"
he prefaced his answer by pacing a few pointless steps.
"i think it got crushed from all the other days worth on top of it or something- it was totally shattered at the bottom of the sink when i found it.."
"Which one?" i repeated..
( i already knew which had broke. )
"..the one you love."
i laughed weakly out of disbelief.
"i'm sorry mack-poodle, swear it wasn't me.."
his voice trailed off.
my care quickly waned
"will it come back in 8 months?"
I said beneath my breath with a smile
he rounded his head around the door frame and smirked down at me
Deep and dark.
Your eyes penetrate mine.
And only when you blink do I dare.
Brown beauty that greets me.
Invites me inside.
Carries me gently as a baby, but disquiets me with their story.
And the imprint it.
In cold tattoos. Hidden.
That she wears underneath.
Sad eyes that save me. Restore me completely.
Grieve not that your burden be lighter to heave.
One day restored and entwined in love's beauty.
The sadness shall no longer be.
She sits half full of optimism, half a pessimist
sometimes happy and seldom blue.
Lay your head back she persisted,
Such eloquent charm to be resisted,
All the times she's helped you through.
Follow her tail wherever she leads,
and lay your head back once more.
Through your lips she softly bleeds,
And quenches all your desperate needs.
Until you need once more.
In the sweetest whispers never misconstrued,
all she confides you keep secluded.
All the while she sings softly to you,
Assuring that you'll make it through.
Until your time here is concluded.
With the world now off balance beneath your feet,
shes the only one who stops to greet you.
Mixing clarity with deceit,
And keeping her from angels teeth.
How could they bite the hand that feeds you?
Drink more then old friend, perhaps you will see,
that her affection is distilled in misery.
But whilst she fills the glass in your hand,
Its anything but a tragedy.
Eyes of pale celadon
refulgent in the dusk
lips of skin so thin they grin
around the tips of tusk
Jagged saw-like teeth
beneath a sagging beastly jaw
the putrid reek of flesh and cheek
he's gobbled - nights before
His pointed nose will point his toes
when he snuffs you shuffling by
the fright enough will be so tough
your legs will lignify!
And once he's done he'll click his tongue
his mood enhanced by food
he'll walk home late and ululate
his deepest gratitude