without rainstorm wilts
leaves of lantana shrivel
and the buds close up
I was told it’s the weather
uplift when grandson waters
Roses never smelled wilt quicker,
For the roses cry and since tears are salt water,
And salt dehydrates, the roses shrivel.
In addition, the whole plant might rebel against life
all because no one stopped and smelled the roses...
So if you ever spot a rose bush make a beeline for it
And sniff every single blossom.
The heart is a field after rain ravages it,
flooded with drops and completely spent.
Maybe just maybe something will grow,
a remedy lets this fractured soul bloom.
Flooded with drops and completely spent,
there’s still time for a spiritual revival.
A remedy lets this fractured soul bloom,
is there anything that love can’t do?
There’s still time for a spiritual revival,
you cannot live with thirst in a drought.
Is there anything that love can’t do?
Stories scribed on rose petals woo us.
You cannot live with thirst in a drought,
smiles and heartbeats are left to shrivel.
Stories scribed on rose petals woo us,
to put our faith in something unseen.
Smiles and heartbeats are left to shrivel,
maybe just maybe something will grow.
To put our faith in something unseen,
the heart is a field after rain ravages it.
Two cats saw the end of the world.
Both felt its pain—
They hid in alleys,
Keeping the shadows at bay,
But the visions that haunted them,
Still remained.
Both found homes,
Comforting and fulfilling—
Yet both dealt with the end of the world—
So differently.
One saw it as a reminder of death.
All would shrivel,
Nothing would remain,
Everything would be replaced by pain.
The other,
Saw it as a reminder of life.
All the hunger and strife,
All the beauty and light,
Swirl together until neither one is right.
Two cats saw the end of the world—
One passed it by,
The other felt as if she had already died.
A spell cast, a net of wonder forever,
Transfixed in mountainous worlds, clever.
Isolated in chosen safe places, deep,
Sublime generosity, secrets to keep.
A portal of experience, a window's grace,
A reprieve from boredom, time and space.
A caress of melancholy, when skies open in rain,
An embrace of hope in sunshine, easing pain.
A pact with the vine leaves, whispers low,
A way to touch the seasons, where soft breezes blow.
Sending morse code-like candle messages bright,
Literally to propel the narrative, in fading light.
Washing my soul in the earliest sunshine bath,
Where spirits rise, along a sunlit path.
Soul inclined to shrivel in confined space, it's true,
A cinema, window a screen, a world anew.
A picture, dipped in hues so grand,
Transient, aching, tentative, grains of sand.
Intend to live as slow as the vista allows to the sky,
An idyllic portrayal, a repeat telecast, a painted dye.
Sometimes on Discovery TV,
there's time-lapse to teach and dazzle us.
We might see that naked jay (before he's turned to blue)
in just mere moments transforming!
He masquerades in feathers and quickly grows.
Maybe we will witness the feeble endeavors
which finally propel him into flight;
as the camera follows him, he goes. . .
On some enchanted tropic isle
is the species of a tree
that some of us have never seen.
The camera's eye might focus
on a random bud among its glossy leaves.
Soon it blossoms pink petals
and if we watch some more,
perhaps we'll see the purple of its star apple emerging.
Then we'll see it grow,
and if left not plucked, shrivel up and go. . .
We are but mere ions
in the spectrum of a universe
we've entered through a magic door.
Miraculously born, we grow.
But at first it all seems so slow. . .
Then one day we try our wings.
Some of us may soar.
Others, like an apple never tried, will fall.
But all of us will look back before we go,
and we'll think how much it seemed a dream.
Time always goes. . . .
and then
we're
gone.
Spill the tea, tipped up spout, stirred
Friction mixes fiction into fructose
Whispers pull expectant ears close
Muffled message can barely be heard
Listen where truth and lies intertwine
Hot off the press, a hopscotch
Pebble thrown, trending watch
Manoeuvred over as squares 3- 6- 9
Folded inside last week’s newspaper
Transfer blur, ink bleed injury
Tear away band-aid gingerly
Atrocities reduced to peculiar caper
Shrine to memory melts fact, flimsy
Shadows spread black plague
Smokey mirror, images vague
Cloak and dagger funhouse whimsy
Pressed for truth, tea bags shrivel
Leaking last drips of drunk dribble
21st November 2024
Written for Contest:
How the Echo Filters Reality
Sponsor: Di11y Da11y
Do you know what to do
Can you stay true
When your life’s falling apart
And yet I try to open my heart
Wishes are fading
I always seem to be waiting
And even after ranting
Do I know what to do?
Does this answer your question,
Because every time someone seems to mention,
Legends always seem to make a mark,
But last time I checked I didn’t have to share that spark
You talk to my friends
You come without ends
And when its said and done
I guess I want to be number one
Because when they ask this question
I start to feel tension
But when I look around
Everyone else is also on the ground
Do you know what to do
When your feet are stuck in glue
Because there’s someone inside that chews and then spews and then skews,
Until you finally get that clue
That you’ve become quite blue
I got pried,
And then I just cried,
Cause when you’re stuck in the middle,
You just start to shrivel
I suddenly start to swivel
As you suddenly start to drizzle
Into the cracks of my life
Where there’s about to be a whole lot of strife
But now I have to be true,
And simply admit to you
That I just don’t know what to do
Shining stars shrivel and hide,
Slowly being swallowed into the sky,
The sun hides their heaving sigh,
A night of rest has just gone by.
A sky once hidden has now become bruised,
A mix of black and purple and blue,
A time of mystery, the beginning of truth,
For what happens when day comes through.
Eyelids flutter, a rooster crows
Sunrise is starting and everyone knows
Drinking water is
A necessity in life
And without water
Our bodies will shrivel
Up and die
But is the water
Clean and clear
That we’re drinking or
Is faucet water doing
More harm than good
Is what they’re putting
Inside the water
Causing dementia
Because it has become
To common for the human race
A person’s mind is their life
Blue skies and sun
blue skies and sun
blue skies and sun
constant, only a few
thin wispy clouds
and heat heat heat
sizzling, shimmering
on pavement
mirage of water
fooling the eye
pulsing, radiating
drought
parched, dusty soil
thirsting for life-giving water
plant roots shrivel unseen
stalks and leaves wilt
costly irrigation failing
to keep up
with the heat the heat
over-arching constant sun
scorching burning
crop yields shrinking
day by day, nothing to do
but hope
You got me flowers last week,
The petals started to wilt and fall yesterday,
–So I carefully glued them back on.
Despite my best efforts, they continued to die.
No amount of love and care can keep them alive,
From the time they first sprout to the time they bloom,
Their fate is predetermined.
You got me flowers last month,
I watched them shrivel away,
But I still can not bring myself to throw them out.
Their petals cover the middle of the diner table;
Like a sad circle reminding me that what once was is no longer, and will never be again.
You got me flowers last year,
I had to get rid of them,
They decomposed completely by the ninth month and second day.
You asked me if I would like a new bouquet,
All I could think about was how that first petal fell,
How do we continue to get each other flowers knowing they are inescapably going to die after such a tragic short life?
Why do flowers still grow;
In the face of death?
Love came and went like a lost Autumn leaf
tumbling from a naked limb of death
though beauty was found her kisses turned brief
tender, gentle, then a Winter's breath
in my heart's landscape, my eyes are crying
darkness falls silent when feeling pain
to never understand love was dying
to shrivel away till' nothing remained
memories come, I cast them asunder
to be burned to ashes from love's lost years
where all emotion is buried under
shrouded by my eyes long visible tears
If only you knew what I came to know
I wait for my tears to begin to slow
Pause the cause of thought dear heart,
before God-search we so start
and first find out what’s the source,
wherefrom arises remorse.
Heart loves but mind hesitates;
in the bardo, our soul waits.
Little wonder, we shrivel,
being fed on thought drivel.
That inner conflict may end,
head and heart to love must bend,
that then thus standing erect,
each deed we do is perfect.
Transient life is but a dream,
of thought forms we chose to stream.
At our core, we’re living light,
drenched in bliss by day and night.
Staid silence imparts wisdom,
taking us to God’s kingdom
and when our heart oozes love,
blessings pour in from above.
I see no shelter,
while I move past the crowds,
eager to put down the burden,
weighed upon my shoulders.
I see no shelter,
to quench my undying thirst,
in the scorching heat of loneliness,
that shrivel up my hopes.
I see no shelter,
to hide from the sun's flare,
that blinds my sight,
hindering my journey ahead.
For all I see are men,
hastening around me,
waiting for none but for themselves,
among the ravening.
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