Sitting up
On the shelf
Between the cucumbers and zucchini
Delicate vegetables in hues of yellow
Longing to be returned to the garden.

Gazing down
At me,
Little squash
Freshly taken from a crate
In the back of the refrigerated truck
On a long journey from what was familiar.
Far traveled, the linoleum strikingly different
From the warm soil baked by the sun,
Your kin next to you, safe and sprinkled
With the earth.
Plucked from the branch,
Swept away from the flowery buds
Unassumingly awaiting your same fate.
Dragged through the air,
Your once carefully placed existence,
Groomed to perfection,
Basking in the life of the warm garden,
No longer holds you to it.

In the market,
The mist sweeps down,
Reminding you of home.
Reminiscent,
You long of the same thunderstorms that captivate me,
Feeling the earth and her tears from heaven on my skin.
Absorbing,
As if you were
A sponge
Taking in your surroundings,
Holding them dear and flourishing
In your environment,
Only to be rung out,
Waiting to take in more,
Never of the same matter.

Befriended by a billowing beast
Who came a knocking on my door
Smiling in a bullish way
Was a fearsome minotaur*

'Excuse me sir, not to intrude
But do you have some sugar you could lend?
I've just moved into the neighbourhood,
I hope such Impertinence doesn't offend.'

Nervously i filled the sugar bowl
He regaled its pewter beauty
'Sir you are most erudite'
Gave a wink 'you are a cutie!'

This is why I'm on this date
I didn't think its wise to refuse.
I'm too much of a simpering coward
To upset a man with sharpened hooves

Oh— to be a Pothos vine
Crawling towards the light
Always takes her precious time
Makes every room so bright!
Oh— to be a golden green
With marbled fronds so lush
She, the thriving Houseplant Queen
Makes other flora blush!
But, lo— beneath her heavenly form
Her truest magic resides
For through the winter and the storm
She’s balanced as the tides
Oh— to have that perfect Pothos Power
Flourishing through the night
Oh— to grow and never to cower
No matter how daunting the fight
For it’s her courage that we envy,
Her fortitude that we fear
Her resilient leafy frenzy
That will suddenly appear
Even when you think she’s dead and gone
The stars will still align
A tiny sprout will bloom at dawn  
The mighty Pothos vine!

A cold beer sweating on a hot afternoon. I mean, it was hot, man. It wasn’t just hot; it was humid. We walked along the banks of the river that ran through everything, like how you used to run from me in fields of tall grass and flowers. We were so much younger back then. We were in love. I had the capacity to feel, and you had the patience to nurture and keep me surprised, wide-eyed. I slept last night with no dreams, finally, and my stomach only hurt mildly today. I’m calling that progress. Progressing toward what? Maybe happiness and health. Maybe death. I don’t know. I can’t tell you the things I thought back then, but I can tell you who I am now. I’ve changed just a bit, my darling. The old-fashioned words you loved being called—darling, dearest, lover, sweetie—I was your suitor. I’m still here, sweetheart. I’m still waiting. I will court you again, although I may run a little slower, my words may fumble and trail off into intruding thoughts. I may wake up soaked and shivering from dreams that come. I may not be the man I once was in your eyes.

The midnight moon
curvaceous with vastness
Sensuous as roses
and champagne
And women who love
like the rain
Intimate and luminous
As candles lit
The sweet caress
of deep skies
Robed with gypsy clouds
Adorned
With steadfast shimmers
Of fine wine stars
Ah midnight moon
Luminous vineyard
You waltz
WithIn
Our love
Like salsa dream
And
The universe
Is
All heavenly curves
And honey,
With women who love
Like the rain
The blossoms petals
That dare to sweetly bloom
The waves in december
april and june
That dance
with exotic romance
To the nostalgia
And sweet sanctuaries
Of moonlit shores
The love in a heartfelt tune
And women who love
Like the rain
With rose hems
And gazes all the more
Exquisite with firm compassions
That caresses one
Like the midnight moonlight
Tenderly
Through the blue
And velvet swoon
Sultry doves of its melodies
and flowers
And the well loved hours
Crescents
and waterfall coves
That goldenly glow
and flow
For a sweeter wholeness

Reynaldo Casison

Imagine, the whispers of love tainted on your lips – reading those
signs in your words; where your love is so desired, that once you
fell in love, it all descended upon the world. While man was made
from the dust of the ground; how quickly he sells himself so short;
just becoming dust that’s cheaply sold.

Oh, was it her, Wisdom; she knocked on his door, but nobody came,
from the raining despair of life, she came looking for warmth, as she
shivered in her overcoat. But you only gave her lip service, never
paying attention to her words, even as she handed you her quote.

Over the intercom’s speaker I could hear her call, “it’s me honey;
it’s me,” but I was a whelp who was more in love with the world.
“Let me in—I’m so cold,” still I chose the warmth of this world to
keep warm, but she’s a mistress that has no home. She roams the
streets to every man’s call – while wisdom is the sweetest kiss on
the lips, with a still glow.

And even though I didn’t accept her at the time, she still waited for
me to grow; to grow into her. She undressed herself, and took the
skin of my pen. Her beauty in my hand makes fools jealous of what
they couldn’t grasp then. As she’s the dividing rule, to separate the
boys from the men. I love her more now, better than I did then –
for she’s my lover, who stood as a constant friend.

An ode to Wisdom.

I'll cherish the sun
Wherever i run
I'll seek happiness
Guard myself from emptiness

I'll cherish the moon
Hoping to see it soon
Gazing on the stars
Forgetting my scars

I'll cherish the land
For helping my stand
Ever growing flowers
Helping many lovers

I'll cherish the oceans
For all the lovely motions
Soul soothing sight
Deserving its might

I'll cherish the world
For giving me these words
To express this beauty
Making running truly worthy