Month: April 2021

you purr as my warm fingers run through your fur
gay and carefree, you leap in the snow
you silly, cute kitten make a sweet sounding, pur
you watch with great curiosity at the beautiful doe
your sweet energy leaps into place
making your heart shine with happiness
clumsily dancing with swift pace
your crystal eyes give away your sleepiness
i embrace your fur, soft as a feather
and cuddle you close, by the calming fire
i gaze out at the cool weather
gratefulness drowning my heart, i hold my head higher
soon there are happy tears i have to fight
my eyes glistening from the moon, oh so bright

THE almightY solution?
the need for life!
you know who to call,
When in need.
Oh, wateR, so Keen.
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water, you Are,
so pure,
so cleaD,
how lovely.
as clear, and Delicate,
as polished glass.

so Why nOt Spare tHose beautIful,
helPless, incomplete, pretty, souls?
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wAter
agua
vand
voda
i am calling your name,
Be still,
listen
to what i have to say.
Right and left
Our heads turn
Watching

you taKe,
lives.
takeN,
Stolen,
snatched.
contaminated,
filled the lungs,
whY, you have done it all.
too much to count.
water, be my guest.
pleaSe,
have mercy.
lisTEn.
we’ve felt to your harsh waves
for 4 centuries
for 4 centuries
parents have sat us down
to warn you
to keep our distance
and cooperate
with dangerous encounters
Moreover,
we’ve had enough.
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2, or 3?

Her feet swept the floor as if brooms on an old wooden porch.
The kettle’s sounds filled the house.
Tap tap.
The rain falling on the windows,
Like someone was trying to get in.

The honking of the cars,
Filling the streets of London.
Shhhhhh.
The hot, chamomile tea steamed the white cup.
The tea cleansed her soul and just like that,
Her sorrows were washed away.

My heart flutters every time I see her pass by
Why do I feel like this?
She’s so perfect
Her eyes are as pure as the bright blue ocean
I want to feel her
Hold her
Look at her
Smell her
She is a rose
While I am a wilted lily
Pushing everyone away
Hurting anyone who’s near
But maybe if I try
I can be as bright as her

where is your happy place
is yours somewhere special
is yours where your home is
where loved ones are
mine is Michigan
i love lake Michigan
i love to see my friends
it’s where the most beautiful sunsets are
it’s where i want to hang my hat
Michigan oh Michigan
it’s where the fish sing in the lake
it smells like love

when the snow melts
the sun comes back to life
all the dead trees flourish
in new being

the new buds on those trees
sprout
Up
Up
Up
towards the sun
they live in green
and life

then when the sky gets foggy,
and the wind blows a little stronger,
the green in the world fades
all is left is red

and after the red
they fall
down
down
down
they’re gone

The clouds have made their way into my room,
from sky blue boards that shield the bones of my house,
only to rain.
Soon, the carpet will mold,
and the turquoise of my room will peel away
like the bark on the dying oak tree in my neighbor’s backyard, just above the broken fence.
But today,
all I am left with is the pale yellow of tomorrow,
and the roots that will never grow from dried dead roses;
kept in bundles on my windowsill.

My brain is unlike others
My brain is a shadow in the dark
Just like my life is
4 My face is pale with no other mark

My brain is like a storm
For my life has been sucked away
It’s hard to move on
8 My brain is lightning in the rain

All I can do is move back
I’m never happy with myself
My brain is not pink
12 It’s darker than my black shelf

If only I could be as joyful as a heart
Then my life would be less crappy
I am an empty room
16 But I stand strong, one day I’ll be happy

I can’t sleep again.
That’s okay, though.
The night is comfier to me.

I stay up with some snacks,
Letting the nighttime be my bed.
It caresses me in its dark skies like a blanket.
The stars speckle my skin like little freckles of light
As the moon illuminates my book
So that he can read it too.

I pluck another pretzel from the bowl,
And let the moon read over my shoulder,
Because the night was always comfier to me.

a small little cocoon, hanging from the branch of a tree,
up so high, a tiny little Butterfly.
the small creature wiggles inside, pushing out with her powerful wings.

once she’s outside, she flaps her glorious crimson wings,
she takes her first steps, as dainty as a swan, teeter-tottering on the tree.
she remembers when she was just a caterpillar, before she was a Butterfly

she remembers how much she wished to be able to fly away, to be a Butterfly
she remembers what it was like, when she didn’t have wings,
and as she’s there, trying to decide whether to fly off the tree,

the Butterfly lays her antennae back, ready to fly away into the night sky with her beautiful wings, and to leave the tree she once called home.