stress filled swollen veins
worries crowd in between neurons
tight and taut- explosion

up the mountains
past the tall, proud evergreens
and the bashful dots of flowers
look down:
the world only appears smaller
than it seems

in the bloom of the moon,
tears of a fragile lamb,
whispers of the oak trees,
and the flickering lamp
of life-

a Snicker
of Magic

in the beach in front of me
clear white sand shifted

The waves embraced the shoreline
was sent away, again and again
behooving the other

I smiled at the sight
a breeze ruffled my hair
the sun kissed my eyes
I tripped over
a half-buried shell
into my majestic artwork of sand

Laughter only colored the picturesque sight

I am fearfully rubbed, smeared with dark, drying black blood
The Huntress smoothly takes the arrow out
the creature, crumbled up, looks as though in sleep
The Huntress picks up, slings her over her shoulders neatly

I hate her
I cherish and mourn the blood that stains my peaceful green
I vow to mark the place where the graceful deer had lain on
But as I vow, a big set of doe-eyes peer at me through the dark gloom

My friend's only child
a young fawn

pour out
your emotions
poem a poem
a soothing balm
hark! the cry of an young infant
disrupts the calm
and peaceful night

Stood there, in the rain
a fluttering sensation
wet hair, bright spirits

The light I see
isn't the sun's kisses
or the dancing artificial lights
strung from post to post
on your back yard

It's the smile of a young one,
it's the bashfulness of a teen.
The wise grin of a senior
and the dancing of the willow trees.

It's in your bright, dark eyes.
Your soot-covered white shoes.
The fresh power of the season
and the heart that you unfold.

It's in everyday mysteries
riddles, histories.
The puppy from the shelter,
the sweat of a med worker.

The dying but strong gleaming eyes
of a strong lad sick in bed
no one in his family can be there
but the nurse, his senior by decades
is right next to him, close
enough for
warmth

In the drops of dew on the shards of green
the broken but perfect pottery on the swinging chair.

A white butterfly perched
on the tipping plastic cup
discarded in a field.

Light is "light", it
may depend on what we say

said that girls were the weaker gender
needed a man?
Perhaps
perhaps
you've forgotten
That women were created
to be men's helper

emotion
Moisture fills the room
Water droplets paint the humid, dripping glass
It's 99 degrees!
The broken AC screams:
corona
rejects strangers in the house
Nevermind technicians
Life
is just peachy

Right from my fingertips
into your smiling face

it was his silence that
ripped open the rest of the faltering stitches

swirls of crumbled up trust and hesitant leaps of faith

We are foolish
who are we to think that we will, must
live until we're well into late digits?

life
is a far more precious gift than we think

My dna
is not genetics
It's a free-spirited, unheld laughter
a ecstatic twinkle in my eyes
It's the loving smile
the humour dripping through my words
Was it passed down? Like my eyes, my hair?
Or is it all,
all just me?

I made a wrong turn
traveled down the line

I made a stop at the bakery store
came out leaving my bag inside

I marched up the golden path
thadt Dorothy and her friends had took

Chatted with the fairy and
kissed a frog, too

I dived into the sea
saw the ruins of the ship

I mourned the losses and cried
at the sight of coral, white

I evaporated into a mist
enveloped the clouds,
danced with the hymns
sang with the hounds

Until I landed back to bed
out of breath
and sighed,

"what a wonderful world
to find"

One eye held up to a leaf
where I see the same creases on my hand
a drop of dew collects at the tip
the green is almost blinding

I know it does
everyone knows
and want it,
Their dreams of
or dreads
                of the eventual,
inevitable pain

but don't throw yourself too far
                 away
because a person has been fair and cold

shudders the swirling depths
swallowing echoes, fear, and broken blood stained chips
the resounding silence
duplicates,
                    -cates
                              -cates
underneath the looming shoulder of iron

slip slide
a sheet of snow
edges razor sharp

punched with ink,
stained
A hunk of noisy metal and plastic
violently vomited
a flat panda

was a mixture of blue and green
Everything in it was frozen.

As I gazed in fascination,
the clouds moved
the seas raged
the earth shook
the hills laughed.

But the tiny sticks,
tilting in shades of
sunlight in doom, bright teal, and raven
were still as stone.

she stood on the stage, shivering
a harsh light awoke her
we watched the fire, ignite within her
I felt her indignant words
deep inside of me
ignited, along with her

I walked up to her
tapped her shoulder.

she turned around, surprised.
"thanks,"
I said.
"I felt that"

Sing His praises
beyond the sea!

The fire jabbed at the night
trying to find something to hold
it tasted the fresh air
and tried
to find
more sparks to throw

But wood is wood
and fire is fire

when the rest of it burned and died,

the fire lasted but a spark longer

rumbled greens tossed in the air
glittering in the light
returning down down down to-
a pool of mustard yellow

Adorned with square blocks of bread
a radish slice dangled over your head
onions dance around, prance
as dots of light green dots the darker shade-

as slices of chicken square dance, double-time
as a rumble, a tumble, greater than thunder crackling is heard-
alas!
a flash of metal striking faster than a cobra rears its ugly head, barrels in ouch!

<We have a lost several comrades: two greens, one chicken sliced, one mustard sauce, four lean radish slices>

We
We are in a war.

trodden upon by the graceful creature,
bruised,
but I could not complain
I tickle her hooves


bang

something heavy, soft, and delicate falls onto me,  
I am aware of a dripping, sticky sensation on me
I have seen it before, in wars, in accidents, in births, in genocides, in ******-
blood

Her doe-eyes round and glassy
I weep, shaking the dew off of me

Something two-footed, sure-footed stomps on me quickly, quick-breathed
I peer up
A huntress
with her bow
with her arrows

I examined the creature carefully-
a black, smeared arrow jutted out from her side
I wept, unable to do more than sing
waving my arms, up to the trees

The glistening gleam in her eye
Knew that she needed one person
to hug her close

swirling green in those swirling blues

the opulent corners rotting,
pieces falling

polluted by rotting flesh and glassy shards and
swarming black hornets

the teardrop hisses from the sting, then
blackens