The Season of Fear

The Sun used to shine

upon the people of spring

The streets were once void

of filth

The ground had been spat on,

leaving traces of poison

The people grew restless

in the cold of day

Grey infiltrated

turning color into shade

Flowers died prematurely

blackening the streets

The Birds never returned

forcing the people to hunt

their own kind

Spring never came

and the people suffered.

Spin Cycle Class

You owe me more
than some meaningless
apology, muttered
under your breath,
accompanying your
rolling eyes.
I'm better than that.
You owe me more.

"It was just a phase,"
you said.
"A silly phase,"
you said.
I never believed you,
but you had convinced
yourself.

"It's not my place,"
I thought,
"not my place,
at all."
So I stepped aside.

You owe me more
than a forced
apology you
don't believe in.
You owe me
your evaporation
from my life.
I want no remains.

I want to cut your face out of all the pictures of us,
just like you used to do in bed when you thought I was asleep.

Thanks

Spring we are grateful

for this
   the shattering of the cloud and
   the continued warmth of the sun
   who has found his incandescence
   in the winter's compact fluoresence
for this your
   first flowers and the first
   open hearts in joy
   and the beholding of brightness
   more red than red
   of the premature rose
for this the
   eyes of my countrymen
   and of my friends
   who see you and are so
   glad of sight that their
   throat cannot sing their joy

o thank you spring
a million years you've come but
thank you every time

Lessons

I heard my teachers say: "the worst will come to he
Who cannot tell the ancient forest for its trees."
But will the worst not rather come to pass
For those who cannot tell the tiger from the grass?

Golden Lion

Hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope.
Run run run run run run run run run run.
Stay stay stay stay stay stay stay stay stay stay.
Lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie.
Love love love love love love love love love love.
Death death death death death death death death death death.

Hope outlasts our desire to run.
Hope outlasts our desire to stay.
Hope outlasts the lies we tell.
Hope outlasts the love we want.
But when we feel death breathing down our necks,
Hope understands and leaves us alone.

Acceptance makes peace.

Late. Don't Care. Do I Have Much to Say? Eh...Nope.

Alright,
you know that feeling you get
when you're writing a list
of things you need,
but you know,
you KNOW,
you're forgetting
a really
really
important one?
That happens to bees, too.
Except, not a list.
I mean, they must have a way
to keep track of their tasks
and stuff.
But think about it.
Bees. Bears.
Cats.
Dogs.
Elephants.
Ferrets.
Gorillas.
Hares. Hedgehogs. Hogs.
I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, ,R S, TT, U, V, WXYZ,.

We congratulate ourselves way too much.
Let's do something worthy of praise.

Now, what was I going to say?

don't worry too much about the ufos

beauty's roommate-beside-manner
syncopates our evening stars
as we stand and revel darling
at the near and at the far

(though your song won't reach the heavens,
be comforted in this--
i'm easier to take in
and i'm easier to kiss)