poem archive

The Rain
my eyes
are looking, seeing it rush past, it’s
falling, falling, falling
and carving paths on the panes of glass, faces pale at the
prospect of the wind,
whistling, whistling, whistling
and trying to clear the garden mulch while
rearranging the forest,
creaking, creaking, creaking
and bowing before that almighty power the dark sky
seems to break
clashing, clashing, clashing
and thundering disapproval at sprawling light it begins
in earnest the ice
smacking, smacking, smacking
and they’re falling on the flowers continuing
crying over petals
pattering, pattering, pattering
and littering the luscious green grass better
for seeing it rush past it’s
falling, falling, falling
and passes my inquisitive eyes inventing
its unwritten life

This is very random, but that’s kind of the point so…
well it’s very confusing so I’ll write another blog explaining. If you can’t view it message me and I’ll send it to you.

Mourning looks out the window
through dewey-eyed mist and leaves
see the new and old days
silly songs about flying trees
and mr. Mockingbird pays
for the copywrited shadow

bright flowers in the sky
ugly wishes find the Princess
dying for Her beauty
cats laugh at buggy wood
i find that art amusing
though the trees cry

The Caged Bird Sings Because She Can’t Scream.

He’ll stay young
while She grows old
for spring She waits
but will not be told
to all age is the fates
among stars He’s sung

mushrooms dance in circles
only children know the truth
first laughs are not just that
maybe she’ll be well only
clap! clap! clap!
shiny dusty flight magic

The Caged Bird Sings Because She Can’t Scream.

tall bookshelves falling over
things that have no name
leafy shirts conforming
they don’t think they look the same
sun rays painfully warming
tipsy friends are sober

the rabbit always watches
time won’t get water
unknown KnightMare creatures
faltering without ankles
He chews on life or death
only She’s not worth it

The Caged Bird Sings Because She Can’t Scream.

flashy drugs torment dreams
swords to take their pride
cause silk to grow stumps
Cold Noses stun Eyes Dried
clothes have soothing thumps
Lids will miss the beams

worms linger in libraries
late night flirts with light
and lashes getting black
trying to fight the pictures away
Comics are sad and lost
themes under debris



Dandelion Fields

A field of dandelions
infinite possibilities
that hang by a thread
the dandelion fairy tells her tale

tentative steps cause wishes to fall
Her weary head can only assume
which desires are gone

caretaker of the fields
the dryad of the whisps
the dandelion fairy drifts away
piece by piece, with her wondrous flowers

footfalls fall with falling wishes
like stars raining out of heaven
no amount of care can stop the cascade

protecting the wishes:
the only way is to stand still
frozen in time
willing the survivors to hold together

Her tears begin to fall
confused by the restricted immobility
wanting only to save

pearly drops soon find the dandelions
and more wishes perish
but she cannot stop crying
for the death of the wishes

She is still frozen there
her tears run down her cheeks
and new wishes grow

for the young there is a hope
of wishes yet to come
but for the dandelion fairy
all the wishes have long since fallen

Forever she will remain statuesque
watching her wishes fall with her tears
and others’ drifting away


The Tree

My grandfather stands, tall, proud and alone
guarding my front porch from the rays of sun
creating wind with a creak and a groan
providing children with hours of fun.

My grandfather grows in many places
fingers stretching to softly brush my cheeks
his skin resembles many strange faces
his hair will disappear for weeks and weeks.

It is this time when grandpa looks oldest
completely covered in ivory dust
he will keep me warm when I am coldest
he is the one I will forever trust.

Openly for all of the world to see
A tree that has captured the heart of me.


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