my
fascination
is
today
with
the
not
quite
seen
those
flickerings
in
the
periphery
visual
line
the
ye­t
to
be
thought
half
formed
nebulous
inklings
mind
wrinklings
the
words
balancing
precariously
on
the
tip
of
the
to­ngue
the
song
of
joy
or
sorrow
yet
unsung
the
dance
step
stagnati­ng
in
the
toe-tap
the
poem
waiting
to
be
found
in
the
shadow
of
t­he
corner
of
almost
and
rhyme
these
are
the
things
that
fascinate­
that
whittle
and
while
away
at
my
precious
time

one small leaf
set adrift
from the tree

torn asunder
in wind rain
and thunder

battered
by
life's storm

now balances
pecariously
on table's edge

not yet ready
to become
detrius underfoot

waiting
daring,
demanding
to become
just another
fond,
frail memory

pale
green
perfection

unblemished
bar the untimely
amputation

each cell
delineated
in cellular beauty

taken
far too
young

sometimes
you gotta
hate

natural
selection's
descisions

sometimes
mother nature
is dumb...

crushed
but
not defeated

they
leaf brothers
and sisters
will but
carry on....

for they
are
young and hopeful

ignorant
but
strong

one death
can be absorbed
and lost in living on

the tree
will
stretch
ever upward

for that
is the
tree's

everlasting
song

seek
the sun

seek
the sun

and you
can never
go wrong.

Sometimes I just want to go to a garden
And take all the flowers I can clutch in my hands
The sweet-smelling, luminous, simple and poisonous (when ingested)
Then scurry away before the gardener knows
Though I’ve taken bits and pieces of grueling work and pride—
To her or him—it’s far more than that, it’s happiness—
And a little bit borrowed from a friendly, flowery neighbor
Is hardly worth complaining about, maybe even worth a smile
And I press the gentle, fragrant ones
In the hard covers of my favorite books
They’ll last forever, I’m certain
And *** the radiantly eye-catching ones
In the places so obvious—
A mantle, pedestal—always in the corner of my eye
I’ll probably put the poisonous
Far away from any man
Hidden in the depths
Still covered yet, concealed to the end—
But the simple things in life
Are what I hold so fast to me
I squeeze the stems and sniff the petals
And know now to truly appreciate them

I hate people who trivialize any sadness.
If they're suffering, why should they be mocked?
You answer for me.
Don't tell me they're implying
They're suffering is greater than others
Or that they're intensifying
The flighting emotion that need not be exaggerated
Because you don't known their pain,
Get an insight to their thought,
Accept their pain into yourself--
Yes you have suffered, none can deny that
But if you don't respect the man
Comparatively weaker, or sound
How can anyone respect your position?
You are a parasite,
Lost in the host
You feed off sadness
You know it's a drought
Yet you remain cynical
So simple in your name.
Your life is filled with hollow anguish
You'll never learn in time

And in my dread
I know you are me...

here i am,
cold winter,
sunday morning...high.

my drugs.....
a predawn lovefest
lots of, little boy
giggling n' smiles
bannana berry pancakes,
made by my satisfied guy.
blucat purring at my feet.

and the sun,
lazily peeking in

god i love
the sunday morning high...