Long Wild flower Poems
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( for what its worth. )
-- Instruction: How to know there's nothing left ~ you've over-stayed your visit
I recall the sun of old thoughts seeped under:
~ How to 'Improve the world' ~ leave something useful behind ~ something better.
--Instruction: The first evil act is eating
I see the shocked wine bottles
steak sauce and
jutting ribs of celery bunches
the next shelf
down
but if i eat the stings
of honey bees
claws
of the great bear
follow
these wild-flower trails up
into conspiracies of wood
and whispers
where all else
watching following is santified
by my return
but men weep weed broken
sorrow condemned
See the little beetle there
safe
crouched in a crusted earth church
sleeping in a god circle
only men careen cloudward
wandering into the gray ends of the world
Now the old oil lamp bends
the kitchen dark
the lines dark
forms looming
from the side
I see myself
ablaze in the still hours
before dawn
it doesn't show on my face though
sad like salt or
shadow spent
like ash gone cold
07/06/01
I walked through the garden where the jasmine lies
I found the brightest star in your breathtaking eyes
When your eyes nearly uttered in my widest hour
I felt the paradise among the wild flower
Bewildered and stuck in labyrinth of your heart
I shall linger till the heaven falls apart
Abiding round your love is neither my victory
Nor I could narrate it as my story
Your presence nurtured me, and liss my soft desire
I've sailed through your cerise nose to your cheeks like briar
I watch the bare sky painting your tempting smile
Cacophony litherly upmake a melody and makes me more fragile
Life charges up and down hills so fast
One day you are biting your cousin
And they are laughing because you are two.
But not your cousin of course.
In a blink of a wild flower,
you are clunking around in Mommy’s heels.
Thinking you are “all that”
because tomorrow you start kindergarten.
Before you kick off the second horrible shoe
You are learning to ride a bike without extra wheels.
Around and around in circles I go,
and then poof!
It is summer camp, church camp.
Lots of girls are taking Bible recitation seriously.
My friend and I are talking about music and hot guys.
We have started to blossom, and we are amazed.
It is prom today, and I am irritated my date is drinking too much.
I decide to drive myself home and let him walk.
I get his car keys by lying,
But probably save the fool’s life when I do.
Marriage was short-lived, to someone else, not to that guy.
I am fifty now with a child who does not speak to me.
Glad I have my childhood friends.
They are lonely now, abandoned by their husbands.
We form a little group, and marvel that we were eleven yesterday.
Poof! Guess what?
We are now seventy.
Does anyone else know that we are twelve-year-olds on the inside?
Still blossoming and still amazing?
Little things and tiny moments make me smile,
Adding an extra sheen to my profile.
As I watch nature and look all around,
Umpteen reasons are for me to the peaks of joy mound.
As I hear a bird on a bough sing a merry song,
Enchanting me all the morning long,
Butterflies of joy escape winging from me,
And I too turn a butterfly, my mind flying in glee.
A clear sky with fluffy clouds lights up in me a smile
Fuelling me with the energy to start the day in style.
Sipping a cup of steaming tea early in the morn,
Makes me warm as basking in the mild beams of the rising sun.
I smile as I see flowers in my garden nodding in breeze,
And feel the gentle wind on me as it comes to tease,
It's joy watching summer on tip-toe, nudging its way,
And children in open spaces busy with their play.
Pleasure it's meeting by sheer chance a long- lost friend,
On an arduous journey that seems to have no end,
And knowing that my family is eager to see me win,
Sticking to me unfailingly through thick and thin.
I smile when I receive a warm hug from my partner,
At an unexpected moment with his eyes glowing in desire.
And when I hear the incoherent prattle of my grandchild,
As she displays her toys with a face gleaming in pride.
Smilingly I listen to my favourite song played on repeat
Sure, its sweet melody makes my heart go upbeat,
Summer rains and sprawling fields of wild flower,
Are sweet enough to leave me bathed in smiles’ shower.
The assurance that God is on my side in every strife
Makes me smile, even when I combat the adversities of life.
Of all, lending a helping hand to the ones who ail
And seeing their faces light up gives me a reason to smile.
sleeping (( COLLABORATION * Don Johnson ))
by~ DON JOHNSON
The Nullabor it does abhor
the desert in it standing
The broken heart
he keeps apart
where Eagles are a landing
kangaroo is prolific cos good seasons bring in millions
they shoot them for the last hundred years,
Hoppy is still there in millions
Almost a plague after rain
The cure the joy the madness ploy, just catch a little Shiela
but broken hearts tend to self destroy
The one true love, to feel her
so searching for the lock of eyes upon the Nullabor
kangaroo does abound, dead straight the road for sure
Ironic tale sour grapes inhale,
He sleeps upon the plain
his swag is near the old Ute, and the dog is ever watchful
his protector is a beaut
~civilization calls~
he has to go back to the city streets
And searching ever searching for the eyes of lady sweet.
***by~ POET D:
Searching and searching till weak eyes fall asleep.
~civilization calls~
Calls the plague of raining streets!
The sleeping kangaroo took me into the abyss of sour grapes.
A wildlife with wildfire turned over by wildflowers.
Seascapes; full of sand that no one dared to understand!
Drowning underwater in a universe that had no expand.
Where the passer-by's felt the expression of sadness in his sleeping face.
All it took was experiencing the world with one lonely look.
A grain of salt, in the night sky!
Where clouds ‘walk-sneak and / clouds-cry like a whirlpool’,
Tears from a near by fountain deep in a valley.
Where we can sing for roo's sleeping heart.
Death in a wild flower mourning asleep on the hour.
Seeing’ is believing when Shiela appeared.
Drying tears with her sweet eyes over the desert lands.
A Collaboration with *DON JOHNSON
~MY COLLABORATION CONTEST~
shaped and formed with love,
now spreading wings to fly,
lives with values and pride.
amazing beauty,
she holds in a humbled heart,
always give sweet smile.
beyond beauty reveals,
strong and powerful dreams,
change her existence.
pull the string of heart,
she sings a song of lost love,
longing for her man.
dancing young maiden,
while the wind softly blowing,
she's a wild flower.
"Like a Name You’ve Forgotten"
A strange storm has arrived
flexing its muscles
around me its arms
wrap electric life, hot
rippling veins of light
you can hear its heart beat
like yours is thunder
as the sky makes love to you
as if to say, earth bound creature
I’m here to enrapture, fully take you
you think that I’m your
Dark Night
when I’m through with you
you’ll feel my hot tears
on your cool skin, wanting more
as the other you
leaves like a warm mist
to walk in the ether
in your sleep
I’ll kiss your eyelids
and you’ll wake
in my arms
a sensuous cornucopia
breathing fire in your shine
like a comet burning
like another fallen star
my sky is peppered with diamonds
I pick one from your indigo
like a velvet lover
chooses a wild flower
from the weeds
I’ll slip it to you gently
like you’re a new bride
as I whisper your name
on some foreign shore
waiting for the sun to rise
like a name you’ve forgotten
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
A wild flower that grows with lovely florets yellow,
it is the dandelion- a very humble fellow.
Some think them ugly and want to destroy,
but I recall as a child finding a dandelion with joy.
I would collect a bouquet of yellow beauty for mother,
to place on her kitchen ledge- then give her another.
They spread and grow, each seed a good flyer,
floating on the warm breezes to any place they desire.
Like tiny parachutes they fly away into the wind,
leaving a dried up hull far, far, far behind.
Did you know that all the bee's and insects love them,
and that butterflies and all kinds of birds eat them.
People eat them too- the flower, leaves and roots,
but others want to stamp them out with their boots.
As a child we would blow on the seeds to make them fly,
making a wish as the seeds would go up high, high, high.
Yes, indeed, a dead dandelion is an ugly thing for sure,
but I have memories of dandelion bouquets that ensure.
________________________________
October 30, 2018 - Edit
Poetry/Couplet/The Humble Dandelion
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1113-455-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Standard Contest 175
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
An unpretentious wild flower
Peeped out of the crannied stone ledge
A peach coloured blossom
With bright yellow stamens around her navel
She had an exquisite charm
With a seductive smile
So pretty that she could put to shame
Her garden cousins stationed high
She nodded her head in the breeze
As if to invite the footloose ramblers
Who might chance to pass that way
To feast on her beauty
And taste her fragrance
Ere she falls down dead
Sans parting knell
Sans ceremony
In that wilderness
In another day's time,
Unnoticed,
Untouched
Unsung!
Sep.3. 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Tamas
I began in my mother's womb where darkness clothed me
still carrying taste of death upon my tongue I suckled and kicked free
there were dancing lights and tears in the Universe gathering me to life
it didn't take long I did forget, I pierced the veil and wailed like a knife
Rajas:
I drank the nectar of the wild flower consumed the salinity of my goods
entered into karma like a Gita in a wave of passion, no longer was I wood
pulsing into life I sipped the juices of my passion and enjoyed the rays
with third eye open I was guided through my living numbered days
Sattva:
Like a pear tree laden with heavy fruit, life began to take its toll
like Saraswati I let go, then held on to a mala and a palm leaf scroll
swept away by a joy so pure, I found the core of love's own goal
there was nothing else I needed so I climbed the lotus of extol
All lies melted away in the face of truth and revelation ,
I lost myself in worship, became a sweet oblation.
Date: April 17, 2021
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Contest Name: Where are we headed