i feel very extra sometimes…
i feel very used sometimes…
i feel like a dandelion when it wears its’ coat of fluff…
people pick me up and admire then
blow me away, forgetting about
me until i plant my seeds for the next bloom…
more and more and more of me spread,
too many places i am in now.
i’ve been blown too far, so i cannot
find myself among the flowers. i am just
a weed that only people with childish innocence
would bother gazing upon and
and i wish that i could just die.
i feel very extra sometimes
and i wither with grief.
Flowers stole music
From hearts in this spring, therefore
Bees are now poets
Life needs love to live
Love grows poetry in hearts
Hearts are now so pale
Green looks like blue now
Blue turned into brown and grey
Black is the new red
Nectar lost its taste
Gras does not smell anymore
Spring with no love hurts…
Take me with you to summer
I am sad, this spring…
Please, dear butterflies
If you like in fall the leaves
Let’s together leave
I confess, beetles
Already missing winter
Let’s hide forever...
An ordinary springtide breeze
skipped lightly upon pungent
amassed trillium felicity
an arousing spring cadence
wafts lighter than yester night's
vague hope silently stirred
between ensconced memories
squandered dreams benumbed
by a chilling need to forget
what tarries unforgotten
in mending hearts broken
more than any practical sense
beyond fleeting lifespan :
for a candle burns more dimly
just before the wick's smolders rise ,
evanescing smoke dissipating ;
like tears that dry on their own
a candlewick gasping for wax
before vanishing into its own ash
a fading memory of light ― .
April 23, 2017
Thought of Spring cleaning tonight
took out everything which was
closed in my closet..
started segregating into
and for later use again..
And all these seemed
too much of work..
as with every piece of thing,
I had my emotions attached!
But suddenly a thought arose..
why not all seasons cleaning
for a mind?
Your touches are soft
like the brushing of a petal against my leg,
plants reaching over the street but never bothering me.
Yellow and purple fills my vision,
the vivid colors staining my lips with adoration.
I bite away at the skin to collect the remnants of pollen, and I feel reborn. Flowers fill my arms, my allergies don't seem to mind.
And what do I know about love?
The sound of the spring whispering
Like her sweet lips are pressed to my ear
Days get cold
But only for a moment
Spring is giving the winter the last few breaths of fresh air
That it has left.
Her arms wrap around me
The slow breeze
Just like it fondles the trees
Not for a moment to I feel the tiredness
The opportunities quiver within
Soon it is
I will feel the touch of her soft spring skin.
But before this time
I have to allow transition
And I'm just fine with that
When it's done
I'll have a rose like no other.
It was spring, my favorite season.
The trees gathered their color from when the winter took it away.
The flowers began to bloom, the colors yellow, and purple that hid with the grass .
The sun that shone bright, how the clouds stood the way they were late at night
The birds chirping happy to be back home after a long cold winter
Humid by morning, cloudy by noon, rainy by night were the days i was looking forward to.