You have ripped bellbottoms a shaky smile,
The sandy curls that cascade down your back.

You smoke till your lungs go black,
You sit in the blazing sun meditating till you go tan.

You play the tunes of The Beatles and Jimi Hendrix,
That suede jacket you wear every Tuesday.

You decorate your room with blankets so the colors keep you company,
The daisies you wear in your hair till they go brown.

You let your cigarette dangle from your thin lips,
That gritty sound you make when you form words.

Your eyes are always clouded with memories,
You wear those circular shades to hide from people.

You wipe the tears off of people’s faces,
Smile when theres nothing to smile about.

Your hands are tatted with henna, and you wear the shirt of a tie-dye spider.
All you eat is trail-mix of pistachios and sun-dried apples.

You ride in a Volkswagen with windows down to feel the breeze.
Your peace sign is like “the healer” to all pain.

You take a pull off hookah and a bite of shrooms just to chase away the madness.
You create your own reality.

When the rain falls down you fling your head back and yell to the world,
The face you make when you see animals.
He’s like an eagle, ready to sore through the sky and bring positivity.

Don’t ever tell me you’re not a hippie, because I’ve never seen anyone as unique as you.

The bud feels a nip,
tender,soft, by naughty mist's
creeping fingers of desire,
defying the diktat
of  the  morning sun.
The flower within
folded under a cover
bustling to come out,
refuses to remain coy and inert.
She is unabashedly eager
for more intimate touches
by the swirling playful mist
that seems to have
a hundred fingers.
Each touch has
made her bold,
expectant, she blushes.
Quickly awakened
from slumber, she'll
wait till evening light,
fades in the garden,
when her eager lover
will again make waves,
in the air, drawing  
forms with smoky vapor.
Moving mist will tickle her
till the morning light
that has a keen eye
on this child of rose bush
in his care,
drives the amorous mist afar.

Flickering candlelight
Does nothing to soften
Knife-like silence

As seconds pass
Minutes disappear
Our blood rains gradually
Spreading into an ocean of black

I’ve stopped burning within your atmosphere
Somehow I’m not surprised
I suppose you aren’t either

Hours ran together
A few days turned into weeks
Time never promised to stop
Even for the likes of us

How quickly things change when egos come out to play

© 2014 Peach

They both wandered in to the night,
unaware that the other one too,
was in the dark labyrinths prowling,
itching to bury so many lies festering,
painful it felt, not even letting the stars
know that what it meant for their love,
that was a wild red flame creating hopes of permanence.
the stars twinkled above with fervor
night was the marsh, convenient for them to hide
every dead dream deep in to its slush, the past
but they knew this night, they would never walk past,
the stench of dreams forcefully buried would haunt
even if they pretend everything is pushed
too deep in to the mud and they are clean hereafter.
when they came out one by one, unaware of the other
drained and ridden by anxiety-
a pale moon was waiting for them to reappear from the quagmire
on her face was a quizzical look,
the moon has her rays driven deep in to their darkened psyches
yet he thought his secrets weren't exposed,
he sat looking at the melancholy moon,
and sang that song that pleased his love, without fail
it sounded like a ritual for the dead ones, dreams in fetus.
then, she approached on tiptoes as if she is a form of death
out to steal unfortunate lives
they stood face to face, everything was revealed,
the cadaverous moon looked on them both
they were felled as if eaten by past, a sleep that will never let them go.