Examining Beauty

Look at this flower and its beauty.
What has it done
to deserve the title?
Should the thorn
make me yearn for it more
for I now love it less.
I must confess
I cannot stand the uniformity of belief
without seeing what lies beneath.
Though it warms everyone
I do not admire the radiance of the sun,
diamonds in eyes,
silky black threads
that scatter as one lives
under white clouds from skies in a bed.
Why is this flower so called
only known for its beauty
and that is all.
But what is the reason?
Our minds committed treason
and we subscribed
to thoughts that aren’t justified.
Perhaps on the inside
the beauty is all the same
though its sad
that we concentrate on a name
flower, beauty, nouns bringing ideas
that few care to examine or critique.
But if each flower
is described as beautiful
is any flower unique?


Our Aspirations

I saw through a room with eternal smoke
And a few jokes between truth
that in youth dulled serious statements
about death.
The scene fit the news.
Brown water and rocks in its own transparent world
that he, like a god, drank from
in between creating clouds
and worlds with the most beloved characters.
I heard about him from friends
who worship him.
I can’t begin to fathom being such a god.
Though isn’t that what we aspire to?
Me and you?
It’s blasphemous practice
though we don’t admit it.
This is our goal,
to trade our soul,
for abuse and inspiration,
brown water and cancer sticks,
traveling parties and ladies turning tricks
because love can’t be found in our free time.
Unless she’s close.
Extremely close.
No one would approve
and though your work be sick
your life should be soothing.
But that isn’t us.
Even if it is in us you trust
to reveal trust
entertainment and proof of some philosophical thoughts,
images that most wouldn’t understand
or bother to try.
And hated in life
we are loved when we die.

Time Departs

Three blades swirling that fuse
twirling white bodies of smoke
into a coil.
Below it all, in humid confines
with sweat its only moisture,
are tan walls and light outside.
Small roads of light illuminating dust piling on dark skin.
Fever chills till I can no longer move
a hand stroking my thinning hair
soothing someone’s coughing cries.
Oh just go already. Why are you still here?
Why do you force me to stare?
It hurts knowing
I will be leaving soon
are the thoughts we both own.
I fear doing this alone.
Yet you must escape away
I don’t want you to go
but I cannot be kind and stay
are the words
we wish to say.
But we shall be alone
and go as we are.
We are not fine.
Not yet I know.
Please come with me.
So I do not go alone.
Am I selfish
for thoughts that won’t be?
Perhaps I am undying
or in mourning.
Perhaps in a haze
we shall go on for days
after the second
we part ways.