Lovers, forget your quarrels and
Listen to the flower,
The breeze,
The finch’s tune,
And find the love in them.
Breathe
And win the fight within
Yourself
And then, lovers, your
Fight will be
A hundred miles away.

They say
Their morning glories have bloomed
With the rise of the sun

The look of a flower that will stay blossomed
The fullness of the flower
Looks to never
Lose that form

A continuation of sweet flavors
and validation
Now asleep
Only asleep
With the rest of the town

Now
With the moon lit
Mine must have
Fallen back asleep

But now there is nothing
No blooming
No whispers of kind comments
nor ear for reciprocation

The space now looking an awful lot
Like when the morning glory was just planted
Like the morning glory was never planted

Was there even a flower to begin with?
I simply don't believe so.

I'd promise to not anticipate it's bloom tomorrow
But I cannot make that promise

I'm starting anew,

taking shoots of my life: green –


that I'll pass around.

Slowly...
Slowly slowly creeping up the vine
How many ants will die in my lifetime?
How many crave the sun deep below the earth
And care nothing for the vine the mind is telling them to search?
Grapes grown over
Over over over
Crushing wooden posts and stealing sun from most
My watermelon plants.
How many questions circling uselessly...
And how many ants never get the chance
To see the end
Of a daunting, pointless task.

i couldn't be stopped.
rooted in struggle, aimed towards the sun,
set to defy the forces pulling me into the dirt;
i was born to grow.

Let yourself become
an elegant sunflower
in a field of thorns

5:24 PM
30/8/19

I like the ivy that grows in the stones
In every crevice it finds a home

A place it will find, always one to belong
A nuisance to many, but of them I'm quite fond

I wish to be an ivy plant and make way as I please
Riddle the world with my beauty, though my beauty is weeds

The condfindence of an ivy, such a sight and a treasure
I wish to be an ivy but to an ivy I cannot measure