Just think how perfect it all seems.
Examine, if you will, Plants.
If you won’t, “****-You.”
I am not your Cabaret floorshow.
Shall we begin again?
Examine the Plant Kingdom.
And let’s focus on Water—H2O for
You of the Walking/Talking Chemistry Set—
Water: a precise, covalent compound.
And what does it take?
A ***** molecule of hydrogen,
Pulling a 3-way with some pathetic,
Starved for affection,
Me-so-lonely
Me-so-***** atom of
Oxygen.
The rest—as they say--is History.
(CUE my readers—
My sweet, effervescent readers—
They come chiming in,
Avenging my Line 3 *******:
“No, Joe, the rest is actually Chemistry.”)
Although I may lack respect for my readers,
I am certainly not dealing with idiots.
This is Interactive Poetry, Kemosabe:
Life lyrics for the Chorus,
Of thee I sing.
Of thee I am one.
But I digress.

The subject was Water.
Water gets ****** up—&
That has got to feel really good—
Into a vast & elaborate network,
Dispensing itself, climbing to
Leaf-height by mid-morning,
Given that big, white-hot bocce ball in the sky
First warming, then igniting a thousand-million
Stoma/Stomata: Choose One.

Difference Between Stoma & Stomata: Stoma and stomata are similar words, so it's easy to get the two confused. The difference between them is easy to remember, however, as stomata is  just the plural for stoma. A plant uses its stomata to take in and release gases, according to EOEarth.org.... More »

Verdant Stomata?
Sounds like an Italian Pizza Queen,
As defined by Rhode Islanders,
According to Ronnie Conheim,
A crony of my early 20s,
Who has dis-appeared off the
****-cheeks of our planet.
Again, I digress.

LEAVES: the passion pit of our
Randy **** atmosphere.
Manufacturing oxygen for those
On the CO2 side of the equation,
Whatever that means.
Leaves: a reciprocal source & target.
For those of us in these parts who
Exhale carbon dioxide.
And just so we get this straight:
We are the Plant Kingdom’s archenemy,
Their bête noire, their Lex Luther incarnate,
Anathema, slugging & wheezing its way,
Through an eternally ebonic Worm Hole.

Plants & Animals:
These two would **** us both off.
So an ecological truce gets hammered out,
“The Paris Agreement on Climate Change,”
They are calling it, perhaps the most profound
Meeting of the Earth’s collected minds.
EV-VAH, in History or Chemistry . . .
(CUE BRANDO, Sky Masterson,
Guys & Dolls: “YEAH, CHEMISTRY!”
A shrewdly negotiated fairy tale,
With fine print out the yin-yang,
Explaining why only 144 of the 197
Parties to the convention have
Ratified (what rats do when organized?)
Ratified a document fatter than Manhattan’s
White page telephone book:
Behold BTW a species of literature,
Beginning to resemble a dead carcass,
Nearly an anachronism for a once
Vast & potent paper publishing industry.

Plant & Animals: these two
Will **** each other.
The Peace: a fragile trip wire.
The Accord?
A case of hyped ecological stagecraft,
The threshold celebration
Staged in--of all places—
Marrakech, Morocco:
The Hashish Capital of the Eastern Hemisphere.

Marrakesh Express - Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marrakesh_Express“Marrakesh Express” is a song written by Graham Nash and Performed by the band Crosby, Stills and Nash (CSN). It was first released in May of 1969 on the...

C.S.N Marrakech Express-YouTube/www.youtube.com/watch?
v=0AkYLtegF1MDec 14, 2009 ... Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young – Marrakesh Express (Live at Farm Aid 2000) - Duration: 3:56. Farm Aid 36,976 views · 3:56. CSN - Crosby, Stills...
(www.ads-right-in-******* poem.com)

That’s right! The poet finally figuring out
What it takes to avoid dying diseased &
Psychotic in the gutter.)
THAT’S RIGHT: $$$$ SELL ADS $$$$
RIGHT IN THE $KA-CHING$
MIDDLE OF THE ******* POEM!)

The Big Picture?
Plants & Animals:
These two will **** us all off.
And we'll watch the whole thing on Reality TV.

Stomata seeded psyche,
nightly thoughts perspire;
ooze from my pores,
diffuse and transpire.

Green growth needs light,
but not in my head.
It seems it’s at night
ideas sprout and spread.

Encounter shellac where the live oak could balk
in sways of stomata to spare shadow from earth
swaying like Eve in Persephone’s wake
should a frenzy of madrigals
cluster to feast
where her prodigal snake once faced sentience.

A tree grows in reaches long since she passed
fragrant lacking tulips within a thicket of moss.

Now my soul skirts the path of Icarus
to bathe in the cerulean beyond reflection
your eyes have consumed from the sky
like a beast coaxing the blessings of the wind.

I was placed here for you.

A voice lichened in cypress knees carries
with the caress of her woods
pressing me forward
into the dew and new ground
enriched with instinct into the roots of palmettos
shielding the glade of tomorrow
still ripe with blackberries
where she whispers with thistles.

Crisp mornings.
The crispness inflamed the soles of my stem.
I shiver at the thought.
The shiver ponders my mind to the last days I ....

Enough.
The succulent hands of the summer breeze is here.
Myself and the other folks sway and cheer,
sitting on the tailored twigs of Oldman the oak tree.
Spencer the sun glazing our trichomes.
Warmth.

We exchange gentle rustling two and fro,
like the sound of an ancient ***** awaiting to uplift the show.
Blackbirds and wood pigeons in the air,
up against each other to strike the berry in the bush goal.
What a perfect life I’m pleased to see.

Maggie magpie why do you perch on my branch so?
your bewitching colours like a piercing cry,
surely I’m not yet to..

The howling of the clouds,
the punches of lightening,
The heavens they open,
good gracious how frightening.

The kicks of the autumn breeze is here.
Stomata is failing.
Stomata is failing.
I’m latching onto the twig,
my ancient armchair.

Carotenoids and Xanthophyll’s,
dehydrated wrinkly skin.
Gut wrenching red anthocyanin,
like lucifer leukaemia stabbing my soul.

Crisp mornings.
I disconnect.
I fall.
I hit.
I lay.
In the flurries of snow,
amongst my other folks.

Oldman the oak tree hospice is empty once again.

RIP

Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved

When you took my own soul from me,
Of course I wasn’t going to be “okay”
You planted me in your rotted heart,
Grew me under artificial light,
Poured vinegar on my stomata for growth,
And ripped out my roots when you’d seen enough.

There.
Lying among the rest of your bouquets.
With screaming petals of
“He loves me, He loves me not”
Pouring out pure life from my stem.
You took my own soul from me,
Of course I wasn’t going to be “okay”

River floods make planted buds  
Unclean, sweating blood for the seeds
Hidden in unfound prophets.
The pollen prophecies hinder
The far lost lovers, star-crossed
With their eyes to the skies and
Hands reaching deep in the seas above.
We wait, silent, and wonder. Swamping
Our stomata vision with couplets
Formed from stigmas of all the years.
Rhyming, but avoiding the answers
We crave. From cradle to grave is not
Enough. Searching signs and science
Beyond our learning, lessons hard learnt
From love itself compromise the beauty
And mistakes found on the surface of
An eclipse – blinding men and hanging
Martyrs from the stark tip of a half moon.
Sharp, revealed, they sacrifice what the church
Could not. Would not. Poison or paradise?
We will never be sure but it still fuels
The passion and bakes the bread we need
To eat and live. The sour lips of life tasted
Sweet before, but the flowers have died
Now and left their ****** marks on
The garden path. When we were young
The stigmata did not stain so much.
Clandestine and concealed to the world,
Invisible - striving for the word to be known,
But strife was not The Way. Doth with their
Own death they curse those who engendered
Them, like Faustus, who flew but twas
All in feign, for he fell in vain - and did not live
To taste the wine. Yet fallen are we all
For the sake of those two lovers –
Biting deep into the rigid skin of solid
Poison. The sickly sweet juice running
Down the side of her cursed lip
As the serpent swept their souls away.
A sharp tongue will keep the commands
At bay like spears in the sides
Of the stammered. The swollen dagger
Hearts were bitten by a Cancer
Of the stars, spreading like luminaries
Devouring ***** by *****. Only
Your hands are free to tell the story now
To bathe in the rich fountains of new-born
Life, flowing from river to river carrying
Moses baskets and delivering us to
Our stolen caskets.

ready for a new chapter , already,
a change of season, almost,
a different horizon, perhaps,
ready for a new hope, I hope.

This green leaf is ready to fall
off the limb, become compost
or be blown far off
into the distance.
Just give  me destiny
or what resides past the filtered
reality, today and tomorrow.

let me be the soil again,
dust or, maybe another leaf
more vibrant just opened,
with stomata uncluttered by polluted
nicotine a fresh unwrinkled skin,
a stem hard pointing my being up
into the sun of days
with strength again.

Yet, I remain attached , fearful
of turning loose
the very thing I get tired of.
May  will bring the answer.
Or June.

AFFIRMATION PRIOR  MENU RAILLERY
/    The Verge Galore  Feminedarlen Ogitres
Utterance ET. . CRAFT LUMINAT LINEAR

Visonettia  distribution rejoining  the holy mundale  ringingly  poemmatic Syndneys beyond the unexplainably  ‘explicit throll’ illium diocesan –of vegetarian et. Province womanhood crayfish the clairvo humanity pluralists –the eye read furrowing immortal ribs-of purer fate gummnation  
The unfathomable classification dogma  vertex   fascillinary the ***-earthen vessels
COUCH BEATITUDESS
ET. Isle Ironing  Stooffly-fye Stirringlys Wikilipaedia  Witchcraft Paypraises-Often Therein The Illumantherapist  Preaching  Echo Signs :
1. Soilage Requll A utum
2. Crankshaft Purrings
3. Mount Zion Poles
4. Carmel Million Rail-of Sailors
5. Armoury  Shed Mid-Wifeory
6. Geovum ‘God Issuantry
7. Re-missionaries Order Clergy Illures/ Pelvic Eleventh Yonderics
8. Darner ARC/Kiosk Kilometer Confluence
9. Visonettia  Agegy ageeeing spades
1o. Brook Rainbow
10. Thyma Across Fountain Figures 360  Vignettes
11. TUC-aLVACADO
12. Prolette: Provincial Program Cohesion seus
13. Uni-EXCUSSION SQUIRRELLS; Fuel Eleganza Ocres
14.Oracle Barbcock Peanuts
15. Barbwire Shielz  ‘poem Prostulatheises
16. Pilgrimage Consummates
17. Core stalf Trivoltry  believing the ‘eagles bounds
18.Unfalteruing pulsars Pose fulcrum /Composaltry the furthering
19. Indulgenergy Scencegy the Thretshold //Indisputable  CO-exoisthergy  Instantaneously CO-GENESIS
2O. Sovereignty Stomata: Outstand Coupon Versatility % TRINITY/ flying Ukrainegy the Trinity Adores-OREGY
http// ***** ODU-DOLLAR SHADES.COM

You went blank on the line
between sand and water,
between seizure and assault.
The tribes have unwrapped their torches,
they are coming in numbers.

Who was going on trial?
Fierce fidelity is demanding vendetta.
The drummer announces the fight.
Justice parts the lips for
peace against tragedy!

The golden voice caves in.
Time moves as a profane octopus -
suckers clasping on the vital stomata.
Green blood oozes from eyes.
The truce was transient.

Childless earth throws up the flames.

Read all stomata
on the green leaves
Then translate the
lenticel on a stem of
woody plants...

Time is passing steadily
From all odds and even

It flows effortlessly
Through our noises

It never cries with us
It never reflects pain in it

It never stops to make merry
It never forgets to move ahead

It flows like air through stomata