"briers" poems
#*“Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to Me, and eat what is good,
and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to Me;
listen, that you may live.
I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
My faithful love promised to David...”
Seek the LORD while He may be found;
call on Him while He is near.
Let the wicked forsake their ways
and the unrighteous their thoughts.
Let them turn to the LORD, and He will have mercy on them,
and to our God, for He will freely pardon.
“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways My ways,”
declares the LORD.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are My ways higher than your ways
and My thoughts than your thoughts.
As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is My word that goes out from My mouth:
It will not return to Me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
You will go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands.
Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper,
and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the LORD’s renown,
for an everlasting sign,
that will endure forever.”
~ New International Version*#
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 12:43 PM UTC
I've Been TRULY SURPRISED ... !!!
In Fact ... " MESMERISED " ....... !!!!
By The ... Volume of People ...
Who Tell Themselves Lies ... !!!
These Acts I Believe ...
Give Liars ... " Relief " ...
But Liars Are FOOLS ...
Who Simply ... AREN'T Cool ... !!!
And People Like These ...
Know NOT What They Do ... ?!?
In Fact That's NOT TRUE ... !!!!
But Does Give You Some Clues ...
On Why These FAKE People ...
Don't Have ... SHINY Shoes ... !!!
They Walk In A Mire ...
of .... " Liars for Hire " ....
They Claim The Good Life ...
But Are NOT Richard Briers ... ?!?
They DO ...
Make Me Laugh ... !!!
But They AIN'T Richard Pryor ... !!!!
Their ... " Devilish Ways " ...
Will Earn Them ... " HELLS' FIRE " ... !!!!
This Thing Has NO COLOUR ... !!!
A Liar's ... A LIAR ... !!!!!
But That ISN'T ME ... !!!
Try ... Tapping My Wire ... !!!
"IT ISN'T JUST WHITES !
YES BLACKS DO IT TOO !"
To Think It's One Culture ...
Is Really .... " NOT COOL " .... !!!
DON'T BE ... " A Fool " ... !!!
You're Lying To ... YOU ... !?!
To Think That ... " Your Creed " ..
Has Always Been ... " True " ...
It's Time To Move On ...
And Give You Some Proof ...
That ... Loved Ones You Have ...
May Just ... TAINT Your View ... !!!
Those Who You Feel ...
Would NOT ... Lie To You ...
Does Your Family ... ?
Have A ... GENUINE Crew ... ?!?
Or Do You Have Relatives ... ?
Being .... UNTRUE ... ?!? ...
Who ... Travel Through Time ...
WITHOUT ... " Doctor Who " ... !!!
Their Ship Is UNStabLE ...
Their Life Is .... " A Fable " ....
Kind of Like Guys ...
Who Sell ... " DODGY CABLE " ... !!!
Yeah ... Funny I Know ...
But ... Who's At YOUR Table ... ?!?
ROCKING ... Your Cradle ... !?!
I'll ... Give You A Choice ....
These Two ... Cain or Abel ... ???
Marriage Is Something ...
To Give You ... MORE Clues ...
That ... LOVE Is A Word ...
That ... GOOD LIARS Use ... !!!!!
DON'T ... Get It Confused ...
This ... LOVE Thing's ABUSED ...
By Liars Who ... USE It ...
To Get Some ... NEW Shoes ... !!!
It's Money ... You See ...
That Gives Liars GLEE ... !!!
Emotions Get Played With ...
Right To ... " Pregnancy " ... !!!
LOVE Is A ... GREAT THING ... !!!!
When Given For FREE ... !!!!!
But MANY Now USE IT ...
To ... Fulfil Their Greed ...
Just Look At Divorce Rates ...
Or ... Watch Your TV ...
I Really ... DON'T Care ...
If You ... Don't Want To See ... !!!!!
THE TRUTH Is This Simple ...
It's .... REALITY .... !!!!!
We All May ... Fall Victim ...
of Those Who Proceed ...
To ..."Hide Who They Are" ...
Behind LIES ... That They Feed ...
They're ... LYING To You ...
And ... LYING To Me ... !!!
Some of These People ...
.... Recite Poetry .... !!!
Some of These People ...
Are Rappers ... BELIEVE ... !!!
They Really Don't Know ... ?
What It Is To ... " Emcee " ... ?
This Is A MASTER ...
of .... " Ceremonies " ....
These Are TRUE POETS ...
Like ..... " Talib Kweli " .....
or Maybe THIS NAME ... ?
The Brother ... " Big V " ... ?!?
Or A Guy Called ... BIG VIRGE ... !?!
Okay I Mean .... ME .... !!!!!
A Man Who Speaks TRUTH ...
In This Here .... " Poetry " ....
I DON'T Want To Be ...
Above ... Humility ... !!!!!!
I Just Want To See ...
More ... TRUE Poetry ...
That SHUNS Foolish Pride ...
And Liars Who Feed ...
On ... " Poetic Liars " ...
These ... " Fictional Writers " ...
Just Write For THEMSELVES ...
To Earn A .... " FAST BUCK " ....
From .... " Media Wealth " ....
PLEASE OPEN Your Eyes ...
Let TRUTH Be Your Guide ...
Cos' It Really AIN'T Wise ...
To Have A ... FAKE Guise ... !!!!!
REMEMBER This Poem ....
... " Don't Tell Yourself Lies !!! " ...
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
The bush that has most briers and bitter fruit,
Wait till the frost has turned its green leaves red,
Its sweetened berries will thy palate suit,
And thou may'st find e'en there a homely bread.
Upon the hills of Salem scattered wide,
Their yellow blossoms gain the eye in Spring;
And straggling e'en upon the turnpike's side,
Their ripened branches to your hand they bring,
I 've plucked them oft in boyhood's early hour,
That then I gave such name, and thought it true;
But now I know that other fruit as sour
Grows on what now thou callest Me and You;
Yet, wilt thou wait the autumn that I see,
Will sweeter taste than these red berries be.
3.3k
Past thick briers and dense thickets
Beyond inconsolable oceans and insufferable lakes
Amidst the roar of obstreperous winds
Within the abyss of calamity
I've let you past my obscurities into the forest of my heart
In return you promised your own so our forests would grow
Instead you left the seeds of hatred that grew amongst my trees
You used me as an exploit for your own selfish endeavors
Our love was made of rot and mold
The passion expired and you were gone
You left me to swim my way back
To climb past my briers and thickets
To bear the violent winds
To climb out of the dark abyss
So that I may find myself once again in clutters of debris
Spread out across the shores of what remains of me
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 7:35 PM UTC
( 2P or not 2P)
Poets and Pigeons,
two P's in a pod.
Some are very humble
Others think they are god.
Throw them a few crumbs
and they will peck at your feet.
They're a most grateful lot
That you will ever meet.
If the morsel is really great
They will eat out of your hand.
Wanting MORE MORE MORE
Pecking MORE than they can stand.
They jockey for position
on the feeding chart each day.
Numbers, NUMbers, NUMBERS
Is there any other way?
Some pigeons stand afar
not risking getting close.
Others land on your head
In hopes they get the most.
There are those who flutter by
and leave deposits in your hair.
"There are better morsels just ahead"
As they develop a pigeon stare.
They envision better food ahead,
like cows at the wires.
It's always tastier over there
Turns out more like briers.
And so it goes in pigeon world
Juking along making their mark
(or is that leaving their mark)
Showing others where to find
Crumbs in the vast poet (pigeon)park.
So there you have the 2P order
Oh! I think this could be me.
Or not.
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 1:22 PM UTC
It may surprise you to learn
That I cannot return to my genesis
Quite simply, I have no fail safe
It may leave you wanting for a whisper
But, when I open these frail, chapped lips
I have no fail safe
It may be that I am a savior in disguise
Hidden behind briers in the garden
But still, I have no fail safe
It may trigger a memory from nothing
To feel my fingers graze across your cheek
Yet, I have no fail safe
It may be a splintered crutch
That I lean on as I take the last train home
But, I have no fail safe
It may be that your delicate kiss
Is a beautiful straight-jacket
But, I have no fail safe
It may be that your unforgiving eyes
Are a glorious pair of fetters
But, I have no fail safe
It may be that the combination
Is within a world I no longer exist
Because after all this time
I still have no fail safe
.
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 5:46 PM UTC
Eyes
that know no religion , morals, nor mercy
Looked my way
Opened the cage of the little flapping bird in my chest and let it fly away
Bird keep it quite calm down
Hopefully I pray
Or love will rip you apart, burn you to ashes,eat your heart.
I make it stay
Oh bird, Her eyes are
spears, they're
Cold steel metal, don't bend, slow down, or waver .
Oh poor bird still singing hold yourself
apeice
Her eyes are
briers,
disguised as roses, claiming peace.
Peace left us for years now
this land is conceived with fear but it's knights are feirce
At times moans of torture
at times a sweet song of lust and Tease ,your love
All is fine when it doesn't reach your
Ears . I
was never one to surrender or lay back with ease. A rebel
stubborn rebel this little bird a beauty that leers.
My dear,
A bird will always sing.
A poem
That you shall never hear.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 10:23 AM UTC
who let you in
who let you back
where've you been
you used to sit around
with your feet in the weeds
I used to love you
now you're on my hands
you left me for brighter stars
parties with nothing to do
I'd look away
I wanna be around people like you
I don't think I mind if you don't
you sat in the blackberries
now you have briers at your throat
I built my shadow up from dirt
so you'd know where I'm from
if I fell and kissed the ground
at least I know you'd still come
I like to sit and wait around
for what you want and what you do
I'm the thorn in your finger
I wanna be with people like you
you stood out on the porch
you let your lungs go wild
I don't eat the fruit since you left
because you're the prodigal child
if you wanna be replaced
you can
if you wanna be replaced
you can
if you wanna be replaced
you can
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
I can only infer you
speak of my skin
this beautiful brown
this lovely melanin?
Yes. Father’s no more,
now long gone, but before
he departed he worked
himself to the bone
straying not a day
from home.
As for my colour
you must be blind
the contorted
black darkness
you perceive
has never been mine.
Why is this hue such
an affront to you?
policemen, judge, jury
school-teachers too?
Now it is said
we’re real-good actors;
for we play many a part,
but you pay no mind
to such sentiment nor
proverbial heart-to-heart.
No sah!
Mistake not my
composure for failed
advance, blink once
*& I’ll lick you down
given half the chance!*
But then you, your ilk
and your briers sown
would just rise again
with sated verbal abuse
& agenda obtuse.
Lawd O’ Mercy
I want off this
deadly semantic
merry-go-round.
Go home!! N * * * * r!!!
Seething; they scream!
...there goes another
coloured criminal
KILLED
for being created
a shade of Eden's
dust of the ground.
Divine-rich-bloodied
melanite brown.
So, when you insult me
I can only infer,
you
speak of my skin;
this beautiful brown,
this lovely melanin.
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 4:21 AM UTC
Whiskers stir on dandelion stems
While dawn departs on fragrant winds.
“We see the sun, his shadow’s falling,”
from the treetops, cried the waling-waling.
Wink awake oh dreaming rose
Brush your trestles from the briers
Till the soils of your tactics
And climb the trellis to all you aspire.
Your roses wait another day
To see how green his eyes.
Ruby hues will take their queues
From the orchids when they cry.
Dream you’ll hear a swinging gate
While working in your garden
There past the fountain, you’ll catch an image
Of someone lost within.
You know this scented presence
Though its logic reveals little
Until he steps into the garden
Of long awaiting petals.
The orchids shout to the dandelions
“time to close up, it’s after dark.”
While two cool cats curl up to nap
in the cradle of an open heart.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
Laying among the saturated soils
Amidst the dry leaves and briers
The wood around me sturdy
Tulips urgent in growth
How can everything around me be so brave
When I am not.
When I am but a tightened voice, a hushed mind, I lay still and do not have the courage to whittle my way through the frost.
Resilient and beautiful in the decay of rock and withering thorn
As these things close in about me
I could only wish the transference
Into my own doubt.
Justification is a long-spent nightmare
Wasting closely by, sinking into the earth of my skull.
Catkins and the spines of gum trees hesitate in the sky
With no breeze, and no self-fulfillment
Never searching or wincing at another open sliver of bleeding heartwood.
It's funny how the moon has always been there, perchance
As it dangles now in the evening air
Full and light like a swan breaching a blue lake.
Almost breakable, almost surreal in strength.
Things grip to life in these woods.
Under my body thousands of dances for survival.
And here I feel it the most
A yearning that is not there, was never there,
Never born into me and never settled in my marrow.
Turning upward,
I speak my truth.
I can only be so much these wires of thorns
This tumult of leaves
Until I acquiesce to the night.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 9:51 AM UTC
what is it about this landscape
early angle of light
bouncing from flat of glass to glass
in clean and eager cuts against
the visible shrouds of exhaust
expired breath of automobiles
darkly herded
swimming in their lanes
light still so separate from the dark
in the long arc of a hollow sun...
this dissonance the chilled shade whose eyes
close to brace the rising retinal burn
of an overbright disc resurrecting
illusions of warmth
what is it about this landscape
rimed with gold
that draws the wilderness in my gut
to grow hooves
to stamp and dig among the briers,
to eddy an inward sudden
too much a wayward compass,
those spooked adrenaline horses...
until I can answer this question
I cannot write the poem.
Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
~
Tangled mass of briers
chokes the trailhead leading into
a dark forest with echoing calls;
a ****** ***** wildly and their
chorus fills the valley with song
both frightening and
exhilarating to my blood.
A chill creeps through me
as the mountain stream nearby
has entered my body at the neck
traveled every inch of my vein and artery
before leaving me at the ankle
and rejoining its own meandering body.
Is it the distant buzz of chainsaw
or simply a concert of crickets, each
tiny violin poised and ready to launch
that leaves me holding my breath? /
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 4:42 PM UTC
rooster-crow and the repetitive tap
of a hammer like the tick
of a clock in the distance
woke me and I followed what
was left of your voice like the tracks
of an animal to the edge of the copper
water. Though I knew there were
Cottonmouths thick as ropes, I waded
into the cool shadows and then up
a hill where trees grew, preordained, laid
out in perfect rows like headstones. When
I had reached that place where
we had left the past, and shed even
our skins for love, I saw them:
the blackberries surrounded
by briers. Supple and sparkling
as jewels. The same ones that we
had subsisted on, with bleeding
fingers, for one afternoon
of our lives. And though
I remembered all the fears
we shared like sackcloth
and ashes, and I knew
the danger of reaching
into the unknown, (it seemed
like there were serpents waiting
beneath every beautiful thing)
blindly grasping for the sweetness
that everyone longs for, and I too
have always feared those things
I cannot see, I put my faith
in the innocence of nature. I tried
to believe in the benevolence
that exists if you go beyond
the fear, and so I found
them again: the blackberries,
the fruit not forbidden
to those who love, huge
and succulent, and so full
of grace, they were almost
too heavy to bear.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
In vision; a small girl
She scurries
Scratches on her face
From the thickets
In a yellow dress with white front
Drips of blood fall from her cheek
They stain her beauty
Her blonde hair is free
Her eyes; as pure as the sun
She runs from the world
She runs from the hate
She runs from the war
She runs from the bullies
She runs through the stabbing briers
Despite the pain
She saves her innocents
Even if it's just for a moment
She knows
Evil dwells beyond the tree line
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
Looking dead and empty from the outside
Every window dark and overgrown
A picture perfect not-so-sweet abandon
Standing long forgotten and alone
Beckoning to me with secret nothings
And stories each of us may never tell
A place that life and time have long forgotten
A place of death not far from living hell
Twisted vines tattoo the sides like cancer
Cataracts of dust enslave the glass
A jagged smile of railing slats now beckons
Waiting for the worst to come to pass
The steps, askew and incomplete, sustain me
As do the missing pieces of my mind
With every step, a creak that echoes louder
Than the silence that will fill the end of time
The door, now long ajar and slightly canted
Much like my eyes, half open to the truth
Sees through me, as I gaze into forever
Caressing every shadow of my youth
The surface, cracked and scarred like distant memories
Much like the hide of demons yet to be
Becomes as braille beneath my trailing fingers
And whispers, “Come…,” as fate opens to me
The corner shaves an arc on dusty floorboards
Motes now rise and sway, as if entranced
Every footfall landing past the threshold
Conjures more to join this ghostly dance
Etching upon stillness a reminder
That even the forgotten tend to change
Emphasizing time as an illusion
Every passing moment soon estranged
Traversing through each room, the memories linger
Linger but a moment do I dare
For in each dusty corner lies a shadow
Lying not, while hungry and aware
Every hallway stretches on eternal
No trace of salvation upon the stairs
Nothing here but promises now hollow
Forcing me out into fresher air
Wading through the overgrowth and briers
Working my way ‘round this haggard shell
The cellar door awakens now from nowhere
Hinting both to heaven and to hell
Standing here in waiting, not in wonder
Not knowing how I know what soon will be
The cellar door extends its invitation
As it opens ever slowly unto me
Stepping into darkness disillusioned
Emptiness extends its open arms
Embracing me despite the separation
Beckoning me further in its charm
Crying, not in fear, but in elation
I stagger through my tears to my demise
The death of everything I had forsaken
Forgotten like the past I had disguised
In the furthest corner of my conscience
Crouching in the corner of the tomb
The child of devastation smiles sweetly
Driving every darkness from the gloom
Fighting not the chains that hold him captive
No longer forgotten and alone
For I have come to free him from the memories
And together, we will find our way back home
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
Slave of briers courts
regal, purple, velvet robe
Picture perfect rose
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 9:04 PM UTC
They said passing by me that they would put out their eyes,
The clouds did as they died across the battlefield,
As the gauzy horses stanched the wept blood,
As the thorns, gnats, and briers, wound into
A dove’s nest of bayonets and knives,
The clouds died in insurrection,
And the night breathed freely and the stars cleared the mud.
Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 1:54 PM UTC
We. Wallow. In our degradation. Until. Our hearts become. Callus. Within. ,
Love. the. evil. We have become , and hate the good.
". Bar ram you to your clan , your. Fleece be true. , sheep be true bar ram you "
Buckingham. Palace. 1837. a. Young. Queen. Victoria. Salutes. her people
". Never let them know how hard it is to bear ma'am. ' Lord Melbournes words ringing in her Majesty's ears.
'. But. You. My. Friends are a. Royal priesthood , a chosen people , nation set apart. ".
" never surrender ""
Though. Friends mock , and Pitt. May call. , loneliness. Rear its ugly head .
Wondering minds persist ,
my God is ever near ,
Abba. Father never let my heart tepid be .
It's 2002. Ashford. Railway station one Saturday morn
How late. My train would be.
'. There's more to life than work Phil '. a. Fair. Maden said to me.
How right she was , that Sunday eve my heart. Danced for joy ,
" two lost sheep " sat. Side by side , and bound themselves to thee.
Though I walk through the valley of death ,
With thicket. And thorn on each side ,
And briers on either side .
Light. and love will. Follow
1757
'. " Prone to wander bind thy wandering heart to thee "
I find myself a traveller in a stage coach peering
Over my fellow travellers. Scroll .
and weep over what I. had once wrote. , and bemoan
What I had become .
If. The mountains be carried into the sea ,
and I. trust not in chariots , and gold ,
and friends who mock my God ,
Or flee to more pressing. encounters
take refuge in thee.
I. Shall. Hate evil and cling to the good .
Don't. Be lonely ,
Iron shall strike Iron again ,
and walk through my Saviors. Open gate full of rich pasture ,
And turn my eye from shallow things .
It's. 1779. and the Greyhound. Sinking fast
" Oh Lord have Mercy I. Cry as a sailor is tossed over board ,
In front of my very own eye .
Save a wretch like me "
With the spirit of Redmond in 92. To Finnish his race
May our fleece be true bar ram you x
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 9:51 AM UTC
why do i keep questioning
thorough the shadow and the hollow
are we talking about the orbs?
the nocturnal things in the welkin?
the radiance we see in the night while we're looking up?
what are all these about?
no
don't stare at me
don't you dare narrowed your eyes at me
these are pensioners
after those briers and numbers;
of prickly snatching shrubs upon the wanderers
(belly laugh)
yes
the shore laps
and that river banks
were once grilling to burst the blue,
to make me sue
as the sandpiper repursue
to eat the crumbs of Swiss cheese fondue
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 2:00 PM UTC
I like the lycianthes there, although I know they’re weeds
I like their pleasant purple hues, and watercolor leaves.
The Daffodils were simple things; yellow, later white,
Little puffs of breeze-borne smoke, ethereal at night.
The wild briers stabbed at me, as I walked out that day,
And yet they were the first to bring the green into the gray
I like the weeds, though others don’t, I realized it just now.
And to think I only realized it under an arbor’s bough.
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 11:13 AM UTC
Fleeting flashes, crashes, of a desperate end
entwined into the fibers of my mind, the essence
of my blood, of my mere
being.
Tiles blinding, the grin of a mindless maniac
upon the greedy grasp of the grim death,
yanked into the oblivion
of eternity.
Melted crystals, flowing, bubbling, calling my
name, so attractive, a sultry dessert, in a way
a sweet ending to a melancholy
before.
Take a chance, dip a foot, gamble with fate
a sea of possibilities it is not, in the end
of the day, it is a pocket within it
a knife.
Fabric as satin to a human's touch, the feel of basking in
the brightness and hotness of the scorcher, but I ask
how, then, could the silky smooth, upon the call,
unveil a thing so sharp, morbidly used?
The graveness and grim of a place quite dimly lit
the pallor of the pretty porcelain stark against
the ripples of transparent silk afloat;
inviting.
The satiny tub awaits so patient and kind
as the river's waves morbidly sharp sway
me into a merry wager, hand the despair
for a shiny-wrapped contraire, attractive.
Perhaps shall I dare for a taste, the thrill
but before, slimy tendrils curl around me
limbs encircled in a ruse of freedom.
How could I be a fool, enough to believe then
allow myself to fall into a bush of these
luscious roses, rusted, singed petals and
daggers for thorns underneath the surface
of a sublime promise and statuesque?
And thus I drown, and drown, and drown,
into a stormy ocean full of prickly briers
and as time crosses into the realm of
nothingness, vacuum, the truth sinks in;
the emptiness spans endlessly, and I will
forever float, eternally exist, nowhere else, only in the screaming white,
alone.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
I am innocent, so I run
Their pursuits are foolhardy
I catch briers
On my clothes
On my flesh
On my soul
At last I stumble into a clearing
My lungs expand like a supernova
Senses disconnect one by one
Losing my sight
My taste
My smell
I collapse into oblivion
The memories blur like salt and water
An aching rises
In my stomach
In my chest
In my throat
Gather them around now
This spectacle grows like dandelions
The guillotine is being sharpened
But I am still innocent
And I am still running
Therefore, I am still free
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 8:44 PM UTC
This is what I remember:
The planks leaned against the wall
would fall if we weren't careful
Tarzan swinging on the frayed black snakes
that coiled around the beams
because if they could still power florescents
no one ever told us.
We shattered the old windows stacked in the briers
to make our new home shimmer
when we set the hay ablaze
because if they were going to use them for the house
no one ever told us.
We heard dad call the
pit of snakes insulation
but we killed them all with shovels,
couldn't risk it.
Never knowing the real snakes
were slipping under the front door
and though big brothers might have known
we were fighting the wrong war
no one ever told us.
Or maybe we don't remember
when you said to be careful in the barn
but to go ahead and play out there
and not to hurry home.
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 9:51 PM UTC