Laid the groundwork
Lichen upon dead branches
Lying next to it
Unable to fly abreast
I’ve soaked my shoes in two cans of kerosene
Waiting for sunset so I can feed you
I don’t think the birds have smelt it yet
But when they do, when they fly high
When the sky is soaked with iridescence
And midnight remembers no names
I shall let the match to every hallow
That dares claim my name to fame.
Rage at the antics talking heads play
Forced to surrender, no other way
Lost is ancient, history’s gone
For a game of dollars, enemy’s way
Has taken our diversity
Plants natural genome
Genetically modified, organic no more
Infecting, irreversible turned our seed
Unrecognized, sterile, stale,
Yet to talking heads playing games
A patent awaits the honeybees bum
To take from the farmer lands that his hands
Have nurtured and worked,
Life giving no more.
I heard you over every drone
That came into my eyes
Little did I know I could
Whisper every note to you
Though I couldn’t remember
What had brought me here
I slumped into your presence then
With my ginger and soft tipped pen
But you decided to remake
The last scene of every book
That had two lovers lost at sea
Who found each other near the end
But how could we remember
What had stolen each of them?
How could we begin?
I left my secrets at the door
And then I heard your secret eyes
Tell me everything again
Tell me all I had to hear
For I would wonder nevermore
As you were here as I was here
Like sunflowers in summer air
Like dandelions woven in your hair
Like cheap sunglasses you always wear
In what I see inside your eyes.
I ask myself why
Not knowing I’ve never known
Can the silence exist
Though no soul partakes
To let the other side be felt?
And irrational blank spots
To no spell I have listened to.
By my wild eyes
I have come here to exist;
Shall running scenes
Invoke my childishness.
A rainbow has landed by my chair
Two shades clearer than yesteryear:
Many cuts more the wiser.
And to my right there burns a fire
So emotive I saw the sun
That held me up as rain came down
Floundered in the far off field.
Then in the soup I had not made
But sat down to enjoy
I sang a song of lucky chance
Though no hardship saved my rent.