I am an ivy vine.
Chasing away the dark, I carve out my own domain.
Then, by chance,
I meet the kindred beings of my roots.
Entangled with one another, we whisper
And complete a single kingdom.
Thus, we extend our territory.
The moment the scorching sun
Grow jealous of us,
We split apart.
We merely wanted the sunlight,
A brief rest in the shade
Where peace is desired.
We split apart.
We are no longer here.
The ivy vines
That once vowed to stay together,
Now wither away from one another.
The sun, exhaling a slow puff of smoke from a cigarette,
Watches on—
"At that moment of truth."
An age passes by,
And the ivy wall welcomes a friend once more.
Yet now,
Stepping into the world of the Fibonacci sequence,
Where leaf delicately wraps around another leaf.
The sun snuffs out its cigarette
And watches on—
"At the wonder of living things."
Yet,
"The sun is still seething."
There is a poison that has ravaged man
ever since creation
This poison deceived Adam and Eve
The poison pushed Caleb to murder
his brother
This poison was traced in the family of
Israel
I believe you know the story
This same poison pushed Haman to plan
The mass execution of Jews in the days of
Queen Esther and Mordecai
Now coming to recent times
Hitler and his henchmen planned the
extermination
of Jews during the second World War.
This poison is deadlier than that of the
Adder and the Cobra
The poisonous ivy is hate, now check
yourself if you do not have it reserved
There is an antidote for every poison
The antidote for hate is love.
This garden’s neglected, the grass grew too tall
The bushes and plants look half-dried
Cracked slabs lay uneven, the dog’s water bowl
Is covered with leaves and dead flies
Front door’s off the latch, windows wide open
No photos in frames on the mantelpiece
A phone on the table must’ve been broken
Unlikely it held fingerprints
Wormwood and ivy have grown way too large
Almost conceal the brick walls
Everything seems like completely discharged
Unavailable to any calls
Was it the other day I saw you there?
When was the last time we met?
Tomorrow can’t come, cause it’s busy somewhere
No time for tea can be set.
May laughs at winter's spelt envy—
The blacks once bled on a snow-white bed
are now shed, long dead, to wed
with bright spring colors instead.
Green shoots rise to pinks, reds, and yellows
in flower blossom heads
spreading as resplendent daubs
on the white canvas shroud
that winter left
to cover its dead.
School
Learning
Form a group
Choose a problem
Brainstorm solutions
Pick one. Go fix the world
If it bombs, pick yourself up
LEARN PERSISTENCE ~ NO QUIT IN YOU
Silence………A solemn hush
except
for
insects
running
amongst the jade green grass
and the large invasive vines.
Large cypress trees,
stately and tall,
throw shadows around me
as I wend my way
along the lonely lanes
of moss-covered, musty-smelling tombs
careful not to touch the poison ivy
or admire the wisteria vines.
People do visit here,
for look, bunches of flowers
adorn the place,
emitting scents to try and nullify
the staleness of the resting place.
Headstones obliterated by the wind,
makes me wonder who lies beneath.
Was she beautiful and tall?
Ugly and short?
What does it matter now?
For all I care she could have been
beautiful and short.
But some things do matter
in our personal short earthly time.
All that matters is
what we do with our life.
Death holds no sting, really.
But
don’t
touch
the poison ivy.
Walking on her way to class
she developed poison ivy
Chants of ‘Kill the Jews’ – crude and crass
have now replaced in 'Crimson’s yahd’ *
~ ‘Ya pahk ya cah at Hahvahd?’
________________________________
*Havard's nickname is 'The Crimson.'
Also, Harvard is right next to Boston,
where they don't pronounce their 'r's,'
and many 'a's' sound like the 'a' in
'father.'
The great big oak tree casts off his coat while the rest of us put ours on,
Throwing down the golden-brown piles of spiky leaves,
A dance floor for the couple everyone’s talking about.
It’s their time now, their time in the pallid sun!
And sure, Holly might make a scene, berry-ripe in snow, like children’s faces,
But her slender partner really steals the show.
Ivy’s green, she winds, she twists, she makes her place secure – winds both ends at one go.
And oak and ash don’t mind her creeping up and down – they know.
They know as well as you and I
That when the summer’s in the sky
And flowers are all in bloom,
Ivy dies before the trees. Her time comes all too soon.
POTD~
In the misery of a paler grey nightfall
she blinks like citrine glazed along walls,
Ivy of Boston flaunts her shimmer without guilt
as palette of amber claims her lustrous glides
slithering with her bohemian lift,
rosette flesh blushing in chilled breeze.
Social climber this paramour, whirling
among plants wanton wild ,
trickles of mist freckle palms of curled leaves-
stem for stem-- translating the language of time,
of how branches relish herbage flow
as my wet hands paddle my dusky breaths
through mid-evening's freeze.
How her alchemy draws gasping sighs
more red than red could ever tease,
and that gypsy's heat...leaving mortals
in awe-...that her fluid pose seems to jut out
from a glass frame to rush forth with all
her womanly senses gushing, snaking,
writhing in the middle of ghastly, boney winter
meant to return on the edge of wild abandon,
enticing men with her faceted charm
never ever the same each time.
Fingertips etched and wrapped,
white knuckled, yet steadfast -
the journey never finished because
...there is no destination
except the next brick or perhaps
EGO?
What then, when there are no more
"electives"?
"Alexander wept, because there were
no more worlds to conquer".
So thus, the tendrils, naked and burdened,
circle back,
their vines and blossoms celebrated,
while the sacrificed - those who cling and die
go unnoticed...
Rockin' tough
Rockin' touch
Rocket rock star's
Still in love
Hallowed halls of
Doobie's lair
The Sunset Gang
Played air band there
Mr. Salty
Zimmer-cam
Winkles and
The Ramel's jam
Wildman
Screaming Me
Pounded sounds
On Adams Street
Check us out
On cable TV
It's Sticks Rambo
and Company
Again its
Nineteen Eighty Three
Tough times I'm glad
Ready to face the hardest
The more times we had
Less sweat to walk the farthest
Your love is a needle in the ocean
Unforeseen yet attract my wisdom
Upon this savvy heart full of emotion
Never was I succumb of your ivy venom.
Interwoven in my happiness
Are threads of doubt
The way the ivy on the neglected window
Keeps the sunshine out;
I can trim away the ivy
And make the windows clear
If I can climb to the top of the ladder
From way down here;
Even with the window clear
I'll be on the outside looking in -
The view is so limited
And it's where everyone else has been;
Gotta' get off the ladder
And get back inside -
But with this crystal clear view
Won't I miss the threads of ivy?
Remember that leaves of three,
means you better let them be;
Don’t get a rash on your ass,
using the wrong type of grass,
when in the woods you have to go pee.
The ivy plant, green and bold hugging the
Iron gate
Guards the dwellers within
Unaware tho they might be
The midnight visitor, well acquainted with
Ivy
Deposits fresh fertilizer as the luxurious
Leaves, intricately intertwined
Provide purposeful seclusion for Ivy's friend
Unseen by the horrific, harassing
Talon-fanged
Great Horned Owl
A good and faithful friend, Ivy
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