Yuka Oiwa Jul 2012

Spring comes
as grasses leap forth
and emerald hues are added to the landscape,
with wildflowers peeking up from the
dewy roadside.
The world smells
fresh like worms and earth,
while birds drift down to finish last year’s
Yellow rain boots hop
out of shelves and into the puddles,
while mud gathers and plays in the road,
gurgling with mirth at passers by.
The badminton net is resurrected,
regally looming over the lawn,
as the swings squeak joyfully in the breeze.
The fireplace gives a sooty yawn
and falls to sleep.
And in the kitchen, fiddleheads unfurl upon
a hot pan
as the old and sour scent of the earth
settles upon our plates,
spring steps lightly
onto the world.

~Yuka Oiwa
May 6, 2008

This is an old poem I dug out of my computer's memory. Even though I wrote this in middle school I still really like the imagery little me came up with.

how by chewing wildflowers
til your tongue turns numb because
you're enamoured by the way it sounds
when you slur your words.
your gums turn black and
when you smile all i see is
pips and petals stuck between your teeth.
oh you're so pretty.
you're a real loose cannon, tendrils
tethered to every orifice and
every breath smells a little more
like the grim reaper is sleeping
in your mouth. i can see he's
making quick work of your gums.
but it works.
better that than he move into your chest
or burrow into pockets of fat
in your head.

You know, this journal does not even contain half of what we know.  I hope we never forget.  

(sonnet #MMMMMMDCLV)

Now, while cicadas drone 'neath blue skies' pale
Glance, or to deeper shades of that, what hence?
Remember Starbucks' "Friends Day" for intents,
The prompt last night, as yesterday's detail:
We rode the bike path 'gain whose wildflowrs hail
As wont in clover's pink, and yellows thence
With brown eyes, thistles' purple, grasses dense
On either side, while goldfinch laughed t'avail.
I'd hated these auld trails we knew, as poor
Since Mum's death, but now I belong to you,
Oh! all's sae sweet like ne'er before as twere.
My car'mel fru-fru drink was tasty too:
Cuz I am yours.  That means I can't write fer
All that cuz evry minute's yours who woo.


I'd fully intended to ink that bicycle ride, sweeter than I've ever known before cuz of you, but you must captivate every minute; and to think I didn't realize Mrs. Sitz' prompt of "Friend" was on the same day as Starbuck's Friendship Day special.
Levi Andrew Aug 6

today i picked you some wildflowers
i saw them there on the side of the road
i flashed back to a time when i first met you
when my heart wasn’t so cold
i sat there staring at those flowers
they were absolutely breathtaking
just like the first moment i saw you.

the first moment i saw you
i instantly knew
you would be the one
to take this anger and this pain
and turn it into

absolutely breathtaking.

I think I gotta work on this one, but it’s something new to add to my list.
Lucius Furius Jul 30

No garden flowers for me,
no gaudy, painted flowers
(hotel swimming pools beside the ocean).
Give me wildflowers --
ironweed and jewelweed,
chicory and Queens-Anne's-lace.

Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem:  humanist-art.org/audio/SoF_008_garden.MP3 .
Leonila Jun 20

Daisies In The Fields
The simplest of daisies can leave ripples in the water.
In her simplicity she's not any less than other flowers.
She's as long impacting as the most elegant of roses.
As daisies in fields of wild flowers don't under estimate,
the value in your worth as a human being in this world.
We are all uniquely different, born to make a difference.
Born to leave a legacy in life and likewise born to impact.
Take the example of the daisy in her simplicity she lives,
breathes and exudes all the elements that bring beauty.
Still in her simplicity she's not concerned with the rest,
for she's fully aware as a daisy in life she's not any less.

Tab Mar 28

Oscar Wilde once said something about death that i can no longer remember, but I know it was beautiful.
it had something to do with how there’s no more today or tomorrow.
how time becomes irrelevant
there is no more past
there is no more future
it’s just you
the wildflowers
and the soft spring breeze

Brianna Jan 9

She danced through wildflowers and wove lilac in and out of her long hair. She smelled of lavender and pine and she never went anywhere without a smile.

Dancing alone to the harmony of the wind and the beat of the rain hitting the ground softly she began to remember a better time.

A time before the hassle of growing up and before the sun stopped shining just a little to bright.
A time before she was afraid of sitting at home and just relaxing.

Remembering the smell of coffee and peppermint throughout her grandmothers home.
The idea that one day she would grow into someone she could respect and love.

She was strong and fierce but also slightly soft and simple.
She was wild and free but contained by walls of society she hasn't quite broken through yet.

Yet she continues dancing through wildflowers and spinning daisies around her finger tips.
She continues humming to the sound of the ocean and  falling in love with natures secrets.

She continues to grow into someone she can respect and love- finding her own the only way she knows how.

Afiqah Oct 2016

for when it rains tonight
I'm hoping every drop would stay clutched to my skin
layer by layer
I'll sheath myself until it's enough to be feebly numb
no more unfolding can be done
but if it doesn't,
I shall wait
beneath the faded wall of wildflowers
for I'm always one who's good at waiting


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