Blue skies call on me
Clouds float with a toss of their fluff
Ripples ripple in the lake
Birds pirouette to their own songs
The butterflies tango with the roses
The hibiscus sway
A million leaves sashay
The wind taps at my window
Seems to take my hand —
"Shall we…
Shall we dance?"

I picked a twisted flower in
an unkempt garden.
I kept it for a while.
Without roots, the flower
didn't last.  I barely did.

There were many  
flowers in my younger days.
I loved picking them and
keeping
them close.

In the end, they
all died or blew away.
I felt empty, blood moon
sad.

Such a young fool in
those sizzling summer
nights.
Flowers make terrible
gods.

Somewhere tucked on a bookshelf is a book.
Dogeared, yellow pages with a hand written note.

In a box, lie trinkets — gifts, a pendant of Annie, a book mark.
Hand made cards, smudged with time.

An old doll almost intact,
Broken spectacles, pictures, a watch and postcards.

Some may call it clutter, junk —
And it’ll all go when I go.

But to me, they are the reason behind my smile, an odd tear.

More precious than collectibles or art —
They are pieces of my life,
My world and heart.

I complain about the way
There's a break in society
How their fall after all
Brings about a desperate need
A change of heart and change of plan
Needs to be readily seen
When the truth makes dry land
This looks a lot like me

A rebellious soul will take its toll
Keeping you from being free
Shackled to the worst of it all
All because of how you lean
Having no boundaries to your surroundings
It's not that easy for you to leave
With these facts I wasn't counting
This looks a lot like me

I've heard it said it's hard to see
The whole forest for the trees
Or the lies over time
That tend to lie just beneath
With a clouded one-way mirror
Whose reflection do you see
Couldn't be any clearer
This looks a lot like me

The copper bells glisten
Swaying in the sunshine
I pause as I listen
To the tinkling
Of the wind chimes

In the distance, they ring
A gentle melody -
I hear their songs
The unsaid words they sing

How sweet is their music
Sweet the joy they bring
Such is the wonder -
The magic of little things

A journey from a city to a small town,
And I thought... I would go down,
(I was nervous, not too many adventurous  bones,
Not everyone, after all, is Indiana Jones..)
A rickety-rackety propeller plane ride,
Tossed and hurled me from side to side.

Amidst jets that sniggered and scoffed,
The propeller plane, nonchalantly, took off.
The gall of the small contraption,
Of their majestic magnitude, just a fraction.
A take off with a war  cry,
A noisy leap  into the sky.
And though perhaps lagging in the race,
He chugged at his own pace…
He rocked and he plunged,
He plunged and he lunged,
He  shuddered and he swayed…
Rather unsteady all the way.
Bullied oft, by  clouds of turbulence,
That looked menacingly dark and intense.
But all the while, in tune,  in sync,
With the wind beneath his wings...
And though I thought he would nose dive,
We landed and we arrived!

Interesting it was to see him share space,
In the hangar, in the sky, while defining his own place.

Out-dated
Understated
Strange clothes and hair
That make some stare
Or all snazzy
And jazzy
Dressed to stun
For love or for fun

Whoever we are
And whatever we are
Fashion freaks
Cool and chic
Couldn’t care less
Overdressed

The one thing
We can all wear
Is a smile

Because a smile -
Is always in style

I died
A life worth living
is a life worth dying

or
so I was sold

I still smell you
in my brain

A dumpster fire
to re-train

And loose
Capitulate

For an absence of identity within

Wake up in the morning,
Grab my cap, tie my shoes,
Get in the car, can't wait to see you.
<3
Get dropped off,
Walk into the school,
Wait in the cafeteria for you!
<3<3
Wish you didn't forget your hoodie,
Grab mine, I don't need it,
Get some breakfast and go, I love you so.
<3<3<3

The spirit's board, a chess of silent grace,
Where goals, like pawns, find their appointed space.
Invest like rooks, in wisdom's sacred lore,
Mindful as bishops, what paths to explore.

Like queen, a heart that counsels, serves, and mends,
A gentle nurture, where true kindness blends.
Control your knights, your senses wild and free,
No overreach, in silent dignity.

Each day a gambit, new and bright unfold,
Accept the check, where patience makes you bold.
Forgive the captures, learn from every snare,
Humility's white king, beyond compare.

Black and white it seems, the boxes we stand
It's good, bad, all moves can't be preplanned
So with time, make the best of it
A soul is its very own mate.

Beneath the gulmohar tree
In flamboyant love
A tale of our desires
Coloring each other
A bright vermillion
Under his crimson spread
Shaded in blissful haven.

Reaching for his branches
Clasping, holding
Climbing, swinging
Chasing, laughing
Under a bright shower of scarlet petals
Of hearts and heat, of love and life
Blooms of a scorching Indian summer.

In flames, his vibrant burning crown
His canopy, flaunting festive tangerine blossoms
Crinkled teasing petals
One upright
Of quaint innocence in white
Splashed with  feisty passion's red
Celebrating and anticipating
In celebration of us, our love
Anticipating rain..
As his branches reach high for promising dark clouds.

Serenading with the music of the monsoons
Moist leaves of the gulmohar glisten
With wind and water, in gentle rhythm
Raindrops nestle for a moment
Before sliding, slipping
On damp, satiated earth
Strewn bright with scattered orange petals
Of the gulmohar
Drenched and soaked like us.

Now the day is gone
and all I did was dream
I listened to the sound
of the day that awful ring
that calling that dreadful
pushing and pulling
inside my dreamy mind
and this body doesn’t
want to move
I think it’s depressed
or something far worse
I saw my reflection
in shallow water
that cruel shave
of pointlessness
I heard a knock at
the door and I know it
wasn’t you
because you are gone
like this day is gone
I wrote a poem today
but it had no spark
it was dull like a
lifeless star
and you know
it was this one …
Clay.M