Probe my pistils
and my stamen.
the rarest flower,
the chocolate orchid;
Flow like a
River to the
How I have abused your
Unassuming welcome –
Ravished receptacle for my
And how many thoughts on my mind
Papers thrown out in a basket and
How much nonsense exists in a sigh
How primitive is
Man at first rising in the early morning light
Celestine is the color of the sky today
And she smiles at the scent of coffee
Poured in a ceramic brown cup that steams vaporously
Today I am no longer attracted by the
Chasing after of a dream
For those who want it
They can go and get it
Today I am alone with my thoughts
In my silence
I have no worries
I am convinced that life is sincere
That death is accepted
The lovers don´t touch,
final lies freeze their breath,
a brittle, vertical icicle.
Will we ever even speak again, like we used
to, like good friends should? Or will a nose be
turned and no words spoken as we walk back out
of each other’s lives. I sometimes wish I knew,
so that the time I waste wondering is not in vain.
A Painter heard the Poet’s words,
Then took his golden brush,
To paint the world alive again,
Down to the river’s rush.
The whereabouts of your mind are anybody’s guess,
Wearing nothing but a smile, you look so well dressed.