A lone tree languished
In the world’s oldest
It being the first
Tree whose branches
Had been butchered for a book
Creating clean, crisp, pages
And how the tree moaned
It’s voice infecting the wind
Howling throughout the night
And lingering on into the day
Causing the others trees to shun it
They were content to merely sway
In the breeze
Or basking in high noon
Concerned with nurturing
Their own nutrients,
Their sap preserving their old ways
Until the first library
First bookstore
First College
Came to claim them all
My gaze remains unrequited
Yet I spy smooth skin without ripples
The smile that arrives when you wave
Your hair that flows about in currents
Yet my gaze remains like statues
My passion seated in cement
Seeing what moves others but remaining still
And how the others, for you fall
As you come and then take leave
With amber eyes a flush in autumn
Yet my butterflies have been grounded
My stomach suspending their flights
So that emotional baggage is delayed
Pauper of Prose Dec 2018
On park benches next to the elderly wise
In the library where the University lies
At seminars hosted outside for free
Or lecture halls with Professors facing me
In all these lands
My mind expands
I lean in to learn where wisdom won it's wreath
And come away with a sword that knows no sheath
Pauper of Prose Dec 2018
Running within youth’s river
The water cold around my ankles
Laughter loitering in the air
My friends and I
Were fond of infinity
Our swimsuits were scented in it
Endless Days
Endless Nights
Endless Homework
Yet who could see
That youth’s river led to the senile sea
Pauper of Prose Dec 2018
She marched on herself
All battle lines and banners
Weapons reflecting one another
Horns howled
So that two sides packed into combat
Crushing, piercing blood splattered blows
Heaps of fallen bodies
And the mounting casualties
Castrated the confidence
Of the two sides of the girl
Who marched on herself
Pauper of Prose Dec 2018
I stepped pass my reason
As it writhed on the ground
And from it oozed
All the past voices
Howling with so many how’s
How to Love, how to Live
How to Dress, how to Deceive
How to tailor the parts of me for Society
But as it sounded I wondered
Why such reason
Ever was ever part of me
For I heard not a single note of mine
Being played from it
Pauper of Prose Dec 2018
In the cold seconds of the dark night
When a message from another is frozen
Does not solitude answer?
Speeding back to reply
With a smooth and resounding silence
And most would place this
Next to the bins that they empty
But I see it
As unblemished beauty
One midnight rose
Whose pedals blend in
So that only sterling starlight
Can define its edges
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