It costs less than electricity,
But it lights millions of hearts.
1/6/2021

We've all got memes
Deep down in our genes
Passed down and passed out
Bursting our seams

There are memes in the air
Thoughts and feelings we share
Ideas spinning round
In the clouds everywhere

When was the first meme?
When two primates dared to dream
The same dream, the same things
Long before we had screens

I haz a bucket
A cheeseburger
A chair
I laughed and I clicked
I edited and shared

We're all forging memes
Fresh, new ones everyday
Memesmith is the role
That every poet must play

Memes are part of our soul
They're in our DNA

betwixt ivy-clad cinder walls
seamless, infinite darkness
leaves aligning,
tendrils twirling unbeknownst
whilst syphid wisps shadowed
tangled wilderness
nightly haze conformed
as sombre forms arose

amaranthine horizon 
tranquil mauve undertones 
sombre coalescence

I am counting things
at night numbers, dreams
hum of a hundred bells
soft harps to soothe
sweet with birds colored blue
in the tiger grass, big eyed cats
twitchy whiskers and paws
they sleep beneath tree limbs
branches wild and gnawed.

Do not wake me
while the garden is glowing
a thousand flowers in rows
I am fixed on violets
hydrangeas indigo blue
with fingers I paint thick
brick in red rose variants
on the lawn peacocks in resplendence
with monde blue-green iridescence
and a million gypsophila clouds pass by.

Colors so bright I swear I could smell them,
     a perfect kaleidoscope of hues.
Blinding me with excitement,
deafening me with their awe and beauty.

Roses curled up in a lovely kiss,
in shades of pink, white and red.
Tempting me with their ****** ambiguity,
waving like a stranger
in the wind.

Daisies giving me a friendly smile,
with their innocent, white petals.
Inviting me to sit and chat,
and perhaps share a cup of tea
to discuss our days over.

Lilies sprawling about,
with their elegant, flamingo pink flavor.
Drooping like a chandelier,
and revealing the secrets hidden within.

Tulips as purple as the plums
I picked from my grandmother's tree.
Mocking me with their vibrant personalities,
yet contained and uptight all the same

Their identities shine
through their wordless expressions.
I find more comfort here
than among the loud and thoughtless.

someday i’ll be too busy to notice the vampires
the sun wakes me up and i know who i am
maybe the chaos will always be there but
i’ll find a way to break it down into mulch and grow
pears and herbs and gardenias from what’s left of me
it takes a while to accept that the shadows matter
and i can’t pretend to know the watermelon lollipop
without the tongue that exists only to melt it away
to turn it into nothing until all that’s left is a paper stick
it might feel like freedom now but it can’t forever
i’ll pull down the curtains and never snooze an alarm again
the worst thing i can think of is writing the same poem
each day for the rest of my life and everyone knowing it
but me