When I was a little boy biking through the lush greeneries of our local park,
I fell down and scraped my knee.
Tears in my eyes, with blood coming out of the tear on my leg, I came to my parents.
Their reaction at first was what I had expected. Shock and fear for their son’s well-being came to their faces, but after realizing I was mostly okay, they uttered a line I still remember quite clearly.

It went like this:

“At least it’s just a scratch.”

And so with that began a life of “at leasts” and compromise.

“At least you passed the test”
“At least you made it on time”
“At least you were only late to the first 30 minutes of the movie”
“At least you were able to cram your homework”
“At least you managed, somehow, some way”
“At least you didn’t die”
“At least you were given part of what you wanted”

Part of what I wanted.


Now, I’ve grown wise enough to know that you aren’t always going
To attain or achieve everything you desire.
But when life always sells you short, you lose hope

But the most cruel "at least" that life decided to bestow upon me was...

“At least…. You met her.”

Yup.

The compromise was I couldn’t have her
I couldn’t make her my home
Because she was never there to stay.
“At least, you met her”

It was a tragedy
But a part of her will always remain
Because that part of her, no matter how small
Somehow changed something in me-
And, dear god, I hope it’s for the better.

We never met, but we've done more than most do in a life time.
Traveling around the store picking those little greeneries
Our own little adventure, tuning into the show as I pick the bestest apples
While at the same time you can only find sour grapes
My store named Ralphs and yours, you tell me, is called Mandals
As I joke about how those are man sandals, you just laugh at me.
Worlds apart for others means, in a different town
For us it means a different time zone
Our hands may never touch
But our mind's hug and kiss each and every morning

Picturesque perfect airfall!
Shines beauty between greeneries rebirth,
A torch or a curse,
Do we relight new tablets?
For they were here once already!!!
Dying and steady the piano keys stroke!!
Outdated, unveiled, uncloaked,
I'm fresh as the molecules I take in!!!
A representation of sin,
I play unwillingly.
The kneeling beings are approached about the throne,
Where heavens mine home,
For where is thine own young panderer?
Star wanderer of unknown distortion!!!
An old age misfortune has vexed thy crazed,
Enchanters!!!
For ive seen thy lanterns,
Now I must be guided!!!
Where thine guests are not invited,
But given all grace freely...

Wilt thou collect thine ruby onshore?
Peaceful galore...

I was a knotted shadow,
walking under a bridge
in Dublin, brick water vault
under the grand canal line,
on my way to the coffee shop.

Now I'm a sun-ray, lost to scatter
on the bolt-broad walk,
lost in a carpet cloud,
lost, lost. I'm in another place,
where the wind off the river
tassles the tops of slate roofs
on its way to my corner windows,
a mocking push that carries no salt.

I am sure I will not see it again.
I will go out instead, forward,
out into the alleys and greeneries
& grassworks and cementings,
to find something new
that might replace a wet shadow
full of coffee by the sea.

She used to be celebrated. Thru water splashes, river streams and water fountains.  As the mountains changed to their greeneries. A scenery that always compels true children of the planet to want to run across it's open fields. What happened to her Joy's ?Nothing really. There's even rumours about her even forgetting her origin's. Truth is thru climate change, She also evolved way passed the comfort norms of the rest of the human species. As the rest of the nature side still rejoices while the plants, trees, flowers still flourish. With everything else still sticking to their traditions she's still celebrated. Spring - Swoo

Sweet jingles
Sphere of hope and dreams
Queen July
I remember
The drench of your serene clime
Treat of your crispy days
Warm as life
Making our days longer
Our sweet dreams of tomorrow
Only awhile
The transcend of yesterdays
Missing the shadows of ourselves
Sweet July
How frolic and free
Like a phlegm fountain of youth
The pleasant smell of rosebuds
The dawn of the tender seeds
The blooms and blossom of flowers in blush
With it healing frangrance
Crown  July
I welcome your winkling rays
Declining softly of my shy greeneries
Sops of your dews which my trees, forest delight
And whirling my ears in bliss
The roar of your stomach
Lashing brisk lights of your hazy face
And drops of your crystal tears
That drones on my weary roof.
This i know the days of abundance
And productivity
Glad tidings