Mike Virgl Jan 4
With pedal's red flush
A rose grew in the arctic
Survivng to blush
How can on interpret a poem when no one has a clue who, what or where it is about? What if even the author is unsure?
Simpathi Nov 2017
Flower flower, on your stem,
Do you not worry less and less,
What you’ll be, like one of them?

Flower flower, in the wind,
Take my heart, take me in.
I’ve wanted nothing else since.

Flower flower, how you bloom!
You shine so brightly just to be in a room.
Time controls when fate is too soon.

Flower flower, where do you live?
You’re stolen of pedals and yet you still live,
Hoping there’s more you can happily give.

Flower flower, in the grass,
Are you not crying, are you not sad?
I’m already used to it with all I’ve had.

Flower flower, show me your face,
I want to be you, I want to have grace.
So I will always have the words to say.

Flower flower, please open up,
Show us your pedals, show us your love.
There’s no reason why you shouldn’t reach for the sun.

Flower flower, hold your ground,
Don’t be alarmed when you hear the sound,
Of others mocking and playing around.

Flower flower, release your scent,
Let us know you and no longer guess,
Of your colors, shape, or past.

Flower flower, tell me your fears.
I will listen to you whenever you’re near,
And hear your voice when you fail to endear.

Flower flower, show me how.
Do they not hurt, do they not gouge?
You were tried and forsaken, yet you make no sound.

Flower flower, hear my cry.
You’ve heard so many others so why not mine?
Seems all there is to do in life is die.

Flower flower, I beg you, don’t fade.
Choose to keep on, choose to stay.
Before the wolves devour my last words I’ve always wanted to say.

Flower flower, forgive my actions.
I faded away along with the ashes,
Holding the fire, holding the rashes.

Flower flower, I can explain.
I’m so desperate to say what I’ve always to say,
Waiting for that one miraculous day.

Flower flower, I made a mistake.
I know I’ll remember it all the way to my grave.
I’ve told you nothing, so don’t bother saying what you’ll say.

Flower flower, it’s not your fault.
You were never aware of this pain as I walked through the halls.
I kept my head held high, kept my shoulders tall.

Flower flower, where will you be,
When I’m buried and no longer can see?
Guess you were the person and I was the deed.
James Meyers Feb 2015
My fingers are birds
flying over white and black
taking steps, whole and half
My foot is a pedal
press it, change the sound
My eyes are a barcode scanner
that see repeated change
My body is a metronome
swaying side to side
While notes and chords fill
my head's inside
Inspired by The Secretary's Chant by Marge Piercy

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