The window opens upon the world
limits nothing now three floors up;
no life or death, he looks out at
quiet nothing: only wind reports.
His long hair lifting through the heat,
weft through warp into a moiré;
before his eyes, driving by, she
stops. City life is more than sums
of streets paved with rain and the gait
of grim pedestrians, more than
make-up in the rear-view mirror
and cell phone blather, though one
forgets such things when there is work
and child care and thousand small
items on the the honey-do list.
Her hands twitch; eyes are crusted dry.
apples or oranges
pink or blue
i'm a little indecisive
it's an easy choice
skip or stay in school
smoke or say no
i'm a little indecisive
it's an easy choice
stay with you or not?
forgive or forget?
i'm a little indecisive
it's an easy choice
yeah you're right
it is an easy choice.
The simple bricks
Of a school hallway,
Support more than just
An academic pathway.
To the left
A boy kisses a girl.
Her cheeks flush
And her heart does twirl.
To the right
A weeping girl hugs her friend.
Her forearm bears her thoughts
Of making it all end.
Scattered throughout
Students with their heads down,
Bruised and broken
leaving only a frown.
pair wise
the ideas go
from to and or
The broom dances on the concrete,
Swaying left and right,
Back and forth,
Unearthing the dirt off the ground,
Building up a storm in the air,
A brown storm we call dust.
Churning and turning and mixing,
The dust moves in sync to the air,
With the broom humming a beat,
A beat that only the dust is familiar to.
A fest of a sort is going on,
The sweeper unaware of,
The scene unfolding beforehand.
What goes on in her mind,
Is as oblivious as the surrounding about her way.
You try so much to be
As kind as your maker
Making your face as busy as a bee
Not wanting to become a faker.
What is it that they see?
What is it that they feel?
What is it that they think?
Warm is your heart.
Sweet is your smile,
Graceful are your movements
And gentle is your voice.
You want them to love you.
You want them to appreciate you
You need them to notice you
You need them to understand you.
Cover up your emotions you do,
It's funny, there was once a girl I knew who's name meant victory, but yet she was never the one who was truely victorious...
Always is such a funny word.
I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. The boy tells the girl.
But how long is always?
Is always a day, a week, a month? A year, a decade... or just a few hours...
What makes people unique?
Their mind? Their past?
Or what they create?
What they can make with their own hands,
With their own mind,
With their own past.
To have something that is truly, and only yours.
To create something that is as real in your mind,
As you are out of it.
As if every idea was a small white bird,
That you would watch fly away every morning,
And fly back every nightfall.
And what happens,
When you put that bird in a cage.
To be bound,
To only be able to say every idea but once,
Too late; we all sit
Teacher glares daggers
Explains what's expected
Hands out tests
glares more daggers
Tells us to start
I stare out the window
silently amused
as a leaf glides to the groud
Pens race across paper
scratching words into the room
that is usually filled with riot
Papers rattle and shiver
with the weight of words
that are collected again
Wagon pulls in
Humans swarm around
Anxious to get a seat
Eager to leave the cold
Elbows stuck in faces
Teeth and nail marks on skin
Anxious to get a seat
Eager to leave the cold
Old women stumble
Old husbands curse
Crippled people grumble
All anxious to get a seat
Tired teens have the seats
Old and injured make them leave
Music playing, books read
Seats are taken and shared.
Honey, Snow, Fall
A bear at the top of the tree
fighting bees for
the honey they make
The bear lumbers away
filled with honey
a snowflake settles
and more follow
falling from the sky
announcing winter's return