When I die
Lay me in a field of poppies
All I want is to feel whole
With the flower that made me feel alive
Even when I was already dead

I'm dreaming
of laying in a field
of wild poppies.
Their fragrance
sweet as sugar.
Their petals
softer than silk.
I imagine
them wrapping
around me,
soothing me,
singing lullabies,
as I slowly
drift up high
into infinity.
Where the moon
shines bright
guarding the heavens.
I will kneel
before her,
asking her
to hang me
as one of her
most beautiful
stars in the sky.

Too bad
Saint Valentine didn't weep
on the grave
you left in
heaven;

as you were
plucked
from the thousand poppies
of little lost girls
dressed in blue,
white, and
yellow.

and
even now, i know:
(that) you're not from here,
crying pink balloons
and little white
strings-

still attached to your eyes,
they
float right back up
and pop, when
they hit they sky,

and maybe,
maybe
it shows,
you just weren't built for
flying.

I am
just a daisy
A tiny flower
small and obsolete
In a Field of Poppies
Who smell sweeter than I
And are larger with brighter colors
but while they might tease me for my size
It Will be Them Who are to be Plucked Away
For showing off their pretty colors in the warm sun
So I Will Get To Bloom Larger Yet Because I Am Just A Daisy

Red Poppies grow
Upon lapels
Telling of
War's untold hell

Of green hills
Pristine and groomed
Marching crosses
On the tombs

Marching crosses
Star of David
Where Stars and Stripes
Fluttered and wav'ed

Of buddies lost
Buried in cairns
Of brothers. Sisters.
Thus disarmed.

Of need for morphine
To end the pain
Of bandages
To staunch red stains

To honor souls
Under white snow
Upon lapels
Red Poppies grow.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/29/2016

Petals of paper
for a stature svelte.
An opxum core.

Swindling willow
waltz upon a stage.
Tethered by the same roots.

A ***** moon,
an ascending tide.
Longing lovers without passports.

Army of emerald soldiers
seduced by ruby gypsies.
Ashen by a kiss.

Clumsy hearts vitrified -
never worn on sleeves.
Await a hummingbird.

roses are red
violets are blue
but we both know
that’s not true

Roses are red
but violets aren’t blue
they’re violet which
is a different hue

plus, roses are red
but poppies are too
and poppies are better-
they remind me of you

poppies are red,
but what is blue?
I’ll get to the point
before I go coocoo

Poppies are red
violets aren’t blue
I just wanna say
I love you

Here we lie beneath the poppies
Blowing in the Flanders air
Do not forget our sacrifice
Do not forget that we were there

Young men forged in heat of battle
Neighbors, brothers, sons
Lost in time, with just our markers
Lost to lie, beneath the sun

Remember us as men of valor
Remember what we came to do
We came, and died, do not forget us
We gave our lives up, just for you

Forget us not, beneath the poppies
Where the sky is no longer dark
Remember us as long dead heroes
We came, we fought, we left our mark

Forget us not, please pass the torch on
Forget us not, more than this day
Forget us not, we were all soldiers
And we remain so....all the way!!!

Forget us not....