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From Green Mansions

From many green mansions
this old house,
the windows open

crossing a beam of light,
poet dust.

The Vase

The vase looked so inviting,
To the two buttercups,
Lying thirsty on the wooden table,
Their green stems cut,

“I can’t take it anymore,”
Said one to the other,
“I’ve got to climb up there,
And have a drink of water,”

“You can’t”, replied his friend,
“The lady might see,
Besides our roots are gone,
We have no feet,”

“I knew”, the other said,
“That this would happen one day,
That she’d get clipper happy,
And want to put us on display,”

M I L L ..L A N E

pale slender
put your legs
across me
and own me

for the moment
i'm yours with
my wild eyes
calm

delve me and shelve
me my thoughts are
your balm

while candy blossoms
bloom like velvet soft
lips
frosted and sated with
sun
chilled with rain

you dont care about
my age
its my rage you tap
tranquil entitiy
flaring like a star
you make your wish
upon

and dream of
someplace far

My Insanity

I gave my thoughts names, does that make me wierd
If it does well my pen should be sedated
And my mind should be under psychiatric care

Aren’t we all children of insanity? Well I know that I am
No sane man puts his weaknesses out so carelessly
A real mad man hides in an artificial cosmos
Led by monotony and the stench of death

We love and we hurt as if emotions were dice
Don’t get me started on politicans
All their good at is shaking hands and getting nominated
And you sit back silently, now that is insanity

His Paint Mixes with Your Tears

It comes like this
like the rain.
You are a cloud
bursting through
your mind,
the earth welcomes
you sometimes
and breaks its own monotony
of dust and dirt,
life abides.

A yellow bus rolls by, filled
with daffodils and sunflowers.
There's another
story you must tell. Another poem
begs to be written and your
mouth is watering for words and you notice
rain falling on the street.
Deeply immersed in the
chaos of your heart, you live.

Call me ..I'll Heed

Call me the olive tree,
or the weeping willow.
In the core of the heart
dwells a deep sorrow.

They've uprooted me,
and left me lifeless.
No one to love or live with,
I am restlessly homeless.

I have nothing to live on
promises are all what I'm fed.
Nothing to drink but,
the blood that they've shed.

Numbness is killing my limbs.
my roots are growing old.
In the UN fridges I'm frozen,
with all the lies that are being told.

SECRET EDEN

Plodding a summer hardwood hollow
with sweat-drenched brow and aching knee
any trail's too dim to follow
in midst of dense humidity

In claustrophobic world of green
enclosed by solid canopy of leaves
barely stirred by breeze unseen
the only wind a mere faint tease

A cloud of gnats all seek my eyes
kindred mosquitos want my blood
and there's a tic, no great suprise
I'm lost in an insectile flood

Sing a Song that's Blue

double-up dichondra turf
seeds that sow the same,

out of them the other one
is callin' out the game.

back off in the summertime
the wintertime is nigh,

gonna keep on lovin' you
until the day I die.

sing a song of joyfullness
sing a song that's true,
sing a song that celebrates
bein' me, and bein' you.

stop runnin' 'round in circles
open up your heart,

if you're to love yourself
lovin' others has to start.

I’m off

you drift through life in semi-dark
for you it's a half empty glass
complaining is your trade and mark
it brings me down, your odd morass

for you it's a half empty glass
the world presents in sad, dull hue
and others all have greener grass
that is, according unto you

complaining is your trade and mark
you say, for you, diddly-squat goes right
with not a positive remark
for anything that greets your sight

Masterpiece

if these tears had a voice
They would be pleading to leave
If this emptiness had an address
I would send joy as a house warming gift

If only time could hear
I would tell it to take the day off
By chance, if a smile appeared
I would make my home its palace

We cry as if no one judges
Speak like orators of ancient times
Smile as if we replaced the sun

We are free like the birds overhead
Embedded with the soul of poets
And never bury the dream
That waits to be a masterpiece

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