#13ways
I.
a wide open space.
empty.
except for a lone chair.
II.
a large variety of colors.
some yellow.
some blue.
all closed.
III.
the curtains
have been closed
for a while now.
it has solemnly
seen light.
IV.
it has stories
that have never
bothered to be
discovered.
V.
it is not
the stories'
fault.
VI.
the chair
has given up
on the thought
of being accepted.
VII.
the spines of
the books
are wearing away.
not as much from
being old as to
being ignored.
VIII.
there is no electricity.
the lights burned out
a while ago,
and no one bothered
to replace them.
IX.
the floor is shadowless.
it is opening,
but enclosing.
X.
the stories are
lathered
in dust.
XI.
even though
they've been
disregarded,
the paper cuts
just as bad
when it slices
your hand.
XII.
you can hear
the sound of
retreating
footsteps,
too afraid of
what lies inside
the binding.
XIII.
I am left alone.
encased
in the wood
of the bookshelves.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 9:11 PM UTC
I
When the firecat bristled over Oklahoma,
The green lushy bushes trembled and thrilled.
II
Did he try to find a tree in that night?-
When the valley candle converged upon its image.
III
I look at the dead tree
But I know
A green bud is finding its way out
From beneath the ground.
IV
The glossy leaves
Are bangles of an armed tree.
It fires out the life when the wind blows.
V
The green algae in the sea bed
Shimmers blue in the moonlight.
It's the ritual to summon the Sun.
VI
The barren winter is soon ending.
The green is shedding its weary skin.
VII
I look at the green leaf,
The green tree,
The green hill,
The green in my mind
And the green in yours.
Are they the same green?
Let me change my lens!
VIII
The forest green welcomes me,
May that forest forever stay in our blind spot.
May its green stay green
And not dusty of some underdeveloped road track.
IX
Outside the window:
The Golden Oriole and a Great Coucal
Sit on the faraway tree.
They came to see the Drongo's air dive.
Ahead of the blue-green endless sky, a swallow prepares for its 'better' dive.
The trees gossip on swallow's act,
And in the greener shade
A stream hums with airy beats.
X
When I see a dry tree
I lend it some of my green.
'I have seen you in glory;
it shall return.'
XI
Watching the green frames,
Change throughout the seasons
Is alike a flower blooming.
The winter night wilts it
And the spring morn teems it.
XII
It is the color of life.
A state of calm tranquil.
The trees in the hills
Moving in unison
Marks how alive the wind is.
XIII
While the valley candle kept burning
And flashing on the firecats fury;
I borrowed his lens of green.
It was broken.
Mar 21
Mar 21, 2026 at 6:41 AM UTC