Shall I paint you a picture through words
Your heart the canvas, my pen the brush
Can you see the Buffalo herds
The wide fields and foliage lush

Trees full of scarlet ibis birds
Mangrove roots drinking water
A portrait made from so few words
Poetry my true alma mater

Watercolor verse stain the page
As landscapes take shape and form
This style of art all the rage
Where wanderlust is born

today i saw a thing,
something that caught my eye
i was shuffling down the sidewalk
as
c o n f u s e d
as could be,
when I saw a dull like flower
just.. staring up at me.
this flower had been abused,
fooled by its own love
it had been brutally stepped on and bruised from some careless person "above."
and you may find this funny, but maybe you'll understand
but i*  *heard  that flower

when i speak its words, i speak them for a few
some harmful things in life just don't make sense
**and i can only hope this flower's story can help you.

Bright yellow, sweet smelling flowers
Surrounded by leaveless trees under grey winter skies
I want to cut them, keep them for my own
Dazzle my eyes and my eyes alone
With their brightness
Their yellow colour of hope
Hope that spring will come again
That leaves will sprout green and whisper secrets with the breezes
Too cold even for the grass to be green
But the daffodils, burst forth baring the colour of the sun
Promising hope.....

listening as the
                          sea hears the
moon and sun
                    cascading flow or
pulling away
                               melded in
*******
                       tortured ecstasy
creating
                      a thousand words
for every birds
                                eye view
my body giving in
to
                               my mind
my soul somewhere
                                   in-between
silent worlds
                             of unseen eyes and  inward probing

               these neurotic bodies
swaying visceral waters 
                                 deeper currents not
complying  as yet in
                               this cosmic
****** of
                       light & darkness matter & void
                      affecting only the surface
pulling back
                          only waves
pushing them back
                to the ever-changing
shoreline
                       when affecting
only the surface  
                              it appears to
be dull monotony
                           at the beck and call of the
moon's every whim...
                                          oh  
and other orbs play
                    their part with her

but infinitely deeper
                   dramatic ebb and
flow
cannot be witnessed
                          by the seagull's gaze

the thoughts of the soul
                           are faint or nil
in the patterns of
                               vision-mind 
our bodies
                         listening to this galactic
dialogue seethe
                            in stagnant waters
when the mind like the
                       moon is all she
hears
or whatever brings
                          in a stronger
signal

we have taken her away
                            kept her estranged as
mutated cells eating away
                     conformed to the
image of an empty shell
                               of a neutral network
caught in a degenerative loop
                                    a dense
gravitational pull slowly
                                leading her along
into the vortex of the
                                   absence of light

yet something our minds
                               cannot understand as
yet is developing
                     out of sight-mind   after
the imploding of her
                                  beautiful
mass

after
                  the burning-out of
countless worlds
                                     beyond
even the furthest reach
                               of the poetic
eye

a genesis beyond eden
                     attempting with
greater resolve to
                          orchestrate the divine
purpose of the
                       primeval garden
rearranged
                           and tuned to higher
******* harmony
                                  the new
birth of soul leading
                            body & mind
her voice
              being the gravitational orb
swaying visceral
                     waters and deeper currents
complying this
                              time around.