"fleabane" poems
He professed he was a professor
He knew all the flowers by name
The greater stitchwort from the lesser
Deadly nightshade and alpine fleabane
He said he would build her an Eden
The envy of all learned men
To find the plants they would be needing
They walked on field, hill and fen
He said it would be just like ground force
He told her to stay out of sight
He said it would cost her of course
He vanished into the night
If ever you meet with this fellow
And get filled with botanical cravings
It's for the police you should bellow
And hang on to your jewels and life savings
Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 2:31 AM UTC
When I see the clouds shined by sunset,
I have to go home now.
When I see the bird’s shade,
I have to go home now.
I have to go home.
It is sad.
Why does today end here?
See you tomorrow?
Tomorrow and today are
Different.
Today is only today.
Tomorrow is different.
Today’s me doesn’t exist
In tomorrow anymore
And, neither does today’s you.
There doesn’t exist
Today’s touch anymore.
Nobody knows that
Today and tomorrow are completely different.
That’s why
I cry
In this evening.
In the shiny bright evening,
Today is closed.
In this time,
When a bulbul’s voice
Slashes the sky,
It is the same feeling.
All that I’ve earned,
I don’t need.
The annual fleabane’s white bouquet
That I gathered
Is withering
In the hands
Like the letter that was never read.
I’ll throw it away onto the meadow
And run away
In order not to be seen by the first star.
To be honest,
I want to be absorbed in the dark sky
And disappear
Because I can view the uninhabited vacancy
From the sky forever
And I might even see today’s back there.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC