It was the day several years ago. Sunny as it is today. It was you sitting at the desk, outlining the halo deflected from the words. Tranquilness fell next to your feet had the sound of a tropical ocean when you stepped on it.
It was the day several years ago. Rainy as it was yesterday. It was you dashing out of the awning, pounding the haze to the beat of the laughters. Drops spilled on the cup rim had the color of a stayed-up night when you looked at it.
It was the hill flamed with red flowers. Blossoming as it will be tomorrow. It was you lighting a cigarette, standing in the pure white clouds. Particles colliding with one other. Ruptures being exposed. I stood in the shadow underneath the gorge, watching time flowing by with sparkles floating on the breeze.
You were up there smiling at me, unaware that it was even darker when you spreading the petals on the stream.
SUBURBAN CACOPHONY is a mother yelling over the sound of the dishwasher hanging grapes that dry against the yolk-orange wall the local boy with mud under his nails and the girl that smells like new york city loud sunlight upon the hush still river brown rust eating up white paint father's office suit in the back of his dusty Jeep screeching tires that tear past red-light lines blood red sprinkles on the roadside's white daisies birthday cake swallowed in tears
don't let these worlds collide, they say - for it only brings chaos suburban cacophony hurts your ears with a truth ugly to the eyes leaves an imprint like a sharp pendant pressed to the chest
2006 A stark lesson. (Beware not to give it all away. ) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A stark lesson I now relate. If you put all into life and fail to withdraw Your happy philanthropic nature giving more. Men will arrive and take n never show remorse Your coffers soon exhausted standing empty Stripped by those you helped when you had PLENTY. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Never throw away a poem draft. You may lose the computer but a paper draft you may find 11 years later.