the leaves sway and catch sunlight
and i catch both against my cheek
and chase them down to my throat,
crush them into each other into me
into chamomile: a trickling summer

i drown in sword-shorn grasses and
in return for breath they write on
my skin in languages that have never
been spoken, only sung only felt
only studied with one dirt-painted
fingertip, fine hairs punctuating
pink brown imprints of trodden earth

ants count dozens of steps, climbing
the winding train tracks (and rocks
sleeping beneath) of my wrists legs
nose and untraveled stomach, and i
let them travel; let my body be gravel
become highway become interstates to
ugly and restful towns diners hotels

and even as sunlight burns my eyes
and bobcats stalk past forests beyond
the reach of my oven-warm wind-wound
open palm, ground allows its drinks to
seep into my sweatpants desert skin
and curls: an oasis i carry on my back

Shadows dance along walls
Cold, undulating fire
Threatens to suffocate
My thoughts,—I go on walks
Outside, the golden leaves
Know how to be better.

A dormant forest sees
Balance between forces,
Ever-changing seasons,
The purposeful movement
Of critters and giants.

Is the forest moral?
Wolves know moderation
Better than most of us.
My reason breaks:
Do humans still bother
With being good
These days?

I like the sun in winters
On cold cold days
The way it beams sunshine
So warmly my way
I soak in the light
As the day calls
Bright molten gold
That from the sky, falls

When I will die, the world will keep its pace,
Unfazed by my absence, in its infinite grace,
The sun will rise, casting its morning glow,
Life will move forward, as it always does so.
When I will die, the skies will still be blue,
The stars will shine brightly, in the night's hue,
The seasons will turn, from spring to fall,
Nature’s grand cycle, embracing us all.
When I will die, memories will linger on,
In the hearts of those who’ve known me, even when I'm gone, Echoes of laughter, whispers of love,
Will weave through time, like a gentle dove.
When I will die, let there be peace,
A quiet end, a serene release,
No mourning, no sorrow, just a gentle farewell,
As I journey onward, where dreams dwell.
When I will die, I'll find my place,
Among the stars, in boundless space,
A soul set free, to roam and explore,
In the infinite vastness, forevermore.

Pray tell, Janus,
how, does, it, feel?
Does, your steel's,
duplicitous, reflection, reappear?
When, the, officed, place,
your, only-thought, used to, lay,
it's, bulbous head,
blossoms, into,
a, tangible idea?
Does, the bedrock's, stele,
make, flowering mettle,
of, the insecure hay?
And, from, the ore,
did, a, garden-variety,
blacksmith, bow, kneel, and, forge,
a sword, for, you, to, falsely, slay,
the poltergeist's, of, those, evil,
sons, and, daughters, seeded by,
that, shiny, yet, mistrusted,
Monarchy of Fear?

So, pray tell, Janus,
how, does, it, feel?
Does, your steel's,
duplicitous, reflection, disappear?
When, your mettle, is, made molten?
Does, it, maim, to see,
your, valued core, first, loosen,
then, wobble, as, you, backtrack, sore,
and, falter, on hearing, the, magma mists,
of, you, hiss, and, squeal?
Is, cerulean, gold, scarlet, and, purple,
all, that, you, listen to, here?
Does, the, imperious, court,
within, your mind, reveal, only,
Knaves-Jesters-Jacks-and-Jokers?
And, does, the, gilded line,
(you speak of naught),
that, you, and, your; Kings, and, Queens, crossed, of yester,
split; all, of, your faces, in, two,
with; royal-blue, hot, i-ron, pokers?

The answers, as always, were; curved, and,
swerved. In, a, spineless, motion, with, gall, but, without, feeling, or, nerve. Pride,
watched on, unaware, of, the fall, that, lay, beyond, the cliff, where, evil, is, served.

© poormansdreams

to barter strongly once for hedgerows green;
where dry-stone walls entwine the bleating fields,
pray wander day to chance a badger seen;
near-timeless river flows 'round chestnut yields.

hear amber leaves fell blanket my path set;
spry squirrels dart along a mighty bough.
out woodland copse reveals serene vignette;
idyllic landscapes; bluff and heath plateau.

black crows' flock swallowed by the settled fog,
gales undress oak in endless leaf supply,
to witness season on moss-covered log;
as water falls with thunderous rage from high.

now dreaming to restore a muse sublime;
of flourished natural beauty braced in time.

I walked my path up to the skies,
Where wonders unfolded before my eyes.
I suddenly beheld boundless seas,
And the sound of the ocean was a sweet breeze.

It sounded so sweetly in my mind,
As if beckoning me to stay behind.
But I flew on as if in a dream,
Unwilling to part with the its gleam.

Rising high beyond the clouds' embrace,
Where only dragons soar with grace,
Dragons: children of wind and flame,
Eternal dancers in fate's game,

I witnessed humanity's strife,
And a horizon engulfed in fire's knife.
I beheld the impurities of the world,
And realized, Earth's end unfurled!