Sunday, June 30, 2013

Seasons

Lonely gray
hovers over harsh white
and makes earth hold her breath
waiting, waiting
to shudder out 
the first warm drop of life
where buds and blooms
as red as a bitten lip
bleeding, bleeding
exhale the sweetness
of  life's vibrations
the smell of honeysuckle
and new grass
pushing, pushing
up toward the warmth
of blue eyed skies
teasing out the birds and bugs
humming, humming
a breeze thick as honey
butters each leaf
with sticky love
the trees scream and blush before
dying, dying
winter comes again

I don't know

I don't know what to think of a man
whose only kindness is his duty,
and yet calls this love.

I don't know what to think of a man
who never asks about another's dreams
and who throws his own about
as universal truth.

I don't know what to think of a man
who does not recognize his own folly
and change his ways.

I don't know what to think of a man
whose only passion is to read alone
and uses his wisdom to hoist himself
above the heads of others.

I don't know what to think of a man
who cannot see me
even when I bare
myself before him.

I don't know what to think of that man
except to think of him not.

Friday, June 28, 2013

I woke up one morning

I woke up one morning
and my skin just fit
Nothing's been the same

An earthworm told me
Darlin', life's too short
I've been digging ever since

A mockingbird came to sing
I knew it was the truth
that beauty lies in just a song-
Be it yours, or be it mine

I rather the sting of a bee
than (the death of) a loveless kiss
To burn than to drift

I woke up one morning
and my skin just fit
What a dangerous way to live