Oh the Herbaciousness
The rose looked upon the daisy
and asks
“What is it like to be plain and ordinary?”
the daisy is shocked
though her relatives are plentiful
each has their on qualities to make them endearing
“I wouldn’t know” coolly says the daisy, “How does it feel to be hunted?”
The rose steps back, disturbed by the reply
She is goddess, she is beauty
epitome of looks, grace, and scent
a queen amongst flowers, none to compare.
This peasant, this peon,
how dare she question my authority
to threaten my life!
“And who would hurt one such as me, when by my very sight they are beholden to me?”
smirks the rose, purple haughtiness coloring her deep crimson head.
“Taking this in, like the sun kissing each petal.”
The daisy turns her head, a smile burgeoning clipped by the clean, metallic “SNIP”
Only half a stem remains of the once thorny throne
and sees the woman with a regal queen in hand
walking away
gasping for breath, closing her eyes
resigned to her fate, not seen by royalty.
Smile becomes the face
as daisy laughs at the jist of life,
missing the danger behind.
A calloused hand, and one thick braid
shadows impending change
gripping, pulling, and ripping
rape and slow death
as veins are collapsed
The rhythmic chanting and subsequent pace
of
“He Loves Me Not, He Loves Me….”
With petals plucked flying to the ground, in circular fashion,
mini aprons set adrift
half feathers of thought
and daisy wilts in dead repose.
“Is this how roses fall?”
Beauty is ethereal, pain is eternal
And flowers are decorative pieces
That we pick with
relish and torture with delight
from the garden we create
and the life we destroy.
Salvation Swine
Salvation army
small stuffed pig
nothing really remarkable
off white, with no stains
one torn ear
and bright blue button eyes
Once used
now sheltered away
second hand toy
stuffed with polystyrene
oozing out the ear
stuffed pig for sale
only a quarter
capacity to love
will math that who takes him
and return it one thousand fold
ear may rip more
stuffing may deplete
but it was once used
now worn well
asking for love
for only a quarter
from a shelf in the store
glass-eyes showing the scene
passing by
always passing by,
the stuffed pig
with one ear torn
no love to return
all because once used
now well worn
Trapped and condemned
to a dusty side shelf
for a quarter
only one ear torn
pristine egg colored pig
well loved
with glass buttons for eyes
dust in gathering
gritty residue absorbing light
and people are moving
away from pig
away from the quarter bargain
So pig with one ear torn
almost new
though worn well
all about love
trapped upon a shelf
voicing his possibility
with a sticker that says
“Twenty-five cents”
on a side shelf
situated in back
of the Salvation Army
one lonely pig
with no love to give
been shelved once
now a second hand toy
with one ripped ear
and a sticker
reflecting
the price of love
Untitled (anna's lament)
so don’t act so sweet
while dipped in lies
you did not even say
Good day or Good bye
False Friend
with tears in your eyes
little baubles of compassion
don’t whisper to me
some alibi
your true nature seen
mask revealed
Go on now disappear
like David Copperfield.
Only
you shant be a treasure
I dig to find
bury you I may
but similarly
hope is buried alive
gasping and grasping
for some tendril or line
however
winter has come
and shred the rope.
only icy reflection
with mirror for eyes
is all you shall receive
entombed by lies.