Untouched, by human hands
it grows strongly.
Uncultivated, by human means
it exists freely.  
Untainted, by human instruments
it lives purely.

To its very core,
it embodies originality.
To its deepest roots,
it remains unrestrained.
To its brightest petals,
it emanates splendor.

Untouched, by social influence,
she grows strongly.
Uncultivated, by social expectations,
she exists freely.
Untainted, by social conformity,
she lives purely.  

To her very core,
she seizes independence.
To her deepest roots,
she wanders uncontrolled.
To her brightest petals,
she radiates beauty.

Leaves me out to graze
wandering aimlessly on fields of
'When are you coming back?'
Left to lap from streams of
'Will you call?'
Just a pathetic pet wallowing in its basket
looking longingly at the door,
hoping every passing noise
is a sign of her.

I am not one to treat a beast decent
but I've fed that demon as of recent
this creature eats my peaceful pieces
with hate increased, my whole decreases

why a poet?
because a poet
hears the words
which sing the
purest harmonies
because a poet
paints their portraits
in pastels
of phrases
because a poet
dances their agonies
into leaps of faith
and pirouettes
of passion
because a poet
sees
the beauty
in the commonplace
and captures
the moment
in a snapshot
of ink and white
because a bloodless world
cuts itself
a thousand times

and the poet bleeds

a crooked ugly man walked up
and said "all hope is spent
i'll build a wall and save you all
and be your president

believe me, i can cure all ills
and make all merkins proud
if you'll just take this oil of snake
i sell to every crowd

for any lie becomes the truth
if you but scream it thrice
so plant the seed then others bleed
and you don't pay the price

come spend your vote to buy my line
of prejudice and hate
ignore the churl of all the world
we'll make our nation great"

a machinating woman comes
the way her husband went
"i've done no crime i'm next in line
to be your president

you see how he goes off the rails
and nothing said is true
i can't shoot straight, i fabricate
but never lie to you

lost last time when set to win
this time did what i can
and worked my scut to undercut
an inconvenient man

we're dealing from the bottom, folks
the country's gone to ***
i may not be the best there is
but i'm the best you've got"

so laugh about it, shout about it,
when you've got to choose
your **** is hoist on Hobson's choice
the poison or the noose

Not every caterpillar
wants to become a moth or a butterfly.
Not every snowflake or drop of rain
wants to fall from the sky.
Not every petal of every flower
wants to tilt its face towards the sun.
Not every second of every day
wants to die the second it's begun.

Slowly dressing.
Silently regretting
this parting of bodies
our hearts and minds have broken up.

Tastes, scents, movement and touch;
contours, fluids, warmth and such.
Our bodies knew best
every stroke, kiss and caress.
At least they said their goodbyes
with fondness
far better than you and I.