Someone once said I was a fanatic of escapism
That I would never find peace if I never stopped moving
But let me ask you;
Can you name a creature that doesn't move?

Trees grow
They shake with the wind, and shower all below them with leaves
Further cementing their carved throne as the elders of our planet

Mushrooms, dogs, lizards, fish
I could name creatures and organisms that 'move' for days
I could give you a fact about each of them
And teach you why darwinism has blessed that specific species with its touch

They said I'm an escapist
Someone who runs from trouble and problems
Or maybe from life itself
Or maybe in circles
I say
When you're a pine tree in a green house there is no such thing as escapism

There's drive to live and acceptance of demise
The only two forms of black and white that's even remotely close to the chessboard you're picturing
My drive to live isn't escapism

So when my branches break your windows,
When my canopy and height topples this ceramic plated greenhouse,
Dont you dare say it was an escape attempt.
I didn't escape. I didn't even leave.
I did as a pine tree does
And I Grew.

Snow piles up against the walls, but thin clothes are all they wear
As the boy gardens within the greenhouses behind the school,
Red, bright tomatoes slipping out of his fingers, and popping into his mouth
That grins at the bursts of sweetness.
Inches from him, the man by one month pretends not to glance his way
Instead shifting through the bristling leaves to claim breakfast’s zucchini.

He would complain at the theft if the tomatoes weren’t everywhere
Making bland meals of packaged rice and canned beans a savory impossibility.
It isn’t like little indulgence will take away all of the red little briberies,
The secret keys to a reluctant community spreading its arms wide months after the pair stumbled in.

The man scowls, and the boy glances up
Not hiding his interest like his companion.
The solution to anger is always tomatoes,
So the next slip of fingers is against the man’s lips
As he bites down, the sweetness pops away mild irritation in the flavor of surprise.
Neither gives in to smiles, but their shoulders brush more than once as the tension seeps out with the heat into the snow.

We are all green houses,

              never let anyone throw
a rock though your widows..

As there just jealous that's growing
                                          within.

Some may be infertile within,
               cold and un-growing.
No seed of compassion sprouts within.

But you are a virtual rainforest of
                       creative imaginings..
            So growth forth and no rock
shall ever come through your  greenhouse...

If you look out your window-
Don't dare look up to my sky,
Cinders choked the sun to death,
It's a black and smokey night,

Our last trees: you set ablaze,
And the grass, your kindling,
The birds and bees are dwindling,
We're left in this steel maze,

Are the streets and city lights-
Enough to guide you home?
When you choke on cinder, too-
The sun won't be alone,

And when your last fire dies away,
And the ice makes it's return,
And my sun can't shine from the afterlife,
It'll be too late to learn.

music soft like honey
notes drops of nectar on the skin of your wrist
the bass is your heartbeat
and the warmth of my hands on your cheeks

could we stay here forever?
you and me and the ferns
sunlight drifting in
you and me and our greenhouse
this moment is a thousand years
or, i wish it was

i can see us in my mind
dancing to music
that's been stuck in my head
for years
you are my daydreams
and i am the whispers
exchanged between us,
two souls in a glass house

my fingers find yours
you fill the negative space of my body
i reach up to touch your face
you smile gently, and i feel it

the melody of our song is
the rush of blood in my veins
when i hold your hand
you press my hands to your chest
and i feel the bass of your heart

Every misused glass of water,
Every slight at sons and daughters,
Every successful missile test,
Cars idling, cows lowing,
All the chemtrails we don't see blowing,
Every dent, every theft, every lie and mocking jest,
Can't be held tight to the chest.

Distended stomachs, cardboard boxes,
Soup kitchens and needy churches,
Gay slamming and alternate choices,
These and more need our voices.

Add the carbon in our air,
Two-headed frogs warning, Beware,
The paltry state of our bees,
The fires devouring our noble trees,
The motors on our inland lakes,
These and more will not wait.

All that crawls, swims or wings,
All of us and everything,
Is everything to all,
There's no time to hesitate,
For I am the aggregate.

Greenhouse
Scaling flowers
A buzzing for pollen
Pinks and magentas stroke the space
Growing

Last night I told you that
maybe someday I'd like to
marry you if that was
ok with you

and then I said sorry
you told me not to apologize,
that the feeling was mutual

Since that moment my feet
have been at least an inch
off the ground,
maybe a foot

You described yourself as
Beaming

I could imagine light shining
from you, gleaming
glowing like through
the ceiling of a
greenhouse

Maybe one full of ferns
and black eyed susan's
for the colors
In your eyes

I think
Maybe
If it's ok with you
we could get married there

We could stand between the
rows of flowers and ferns
and the he light would
fall over us like a blanket
and everything would
smell fresh,
and new
and you would be
beaming