Poetry Compilation XVI – Sprout Into Action

Poem 1: Eastern Breeze

A solemn wind traverses the skies
and carries with it a tiny seed.
At times, it falls… at times, it rises…
but always it’s pushed to the east.
Ever forward it progresses,
no destination on its mind.
Way up here it has no stress,
as it trusts that it will find
a patch of soil somewhere out there,
where it can sprout its roots in peace.
Though right now it floats through air,
one day it will become a tree
firmly anchored to the ground…
so it drifts about for now
and soars up high above the clouds
while it yet remains unbound.

Poem 2: bumblebee

i dream of the space
in the folds of a rose
a mystical place
the humble bee well knows

like many before
they tenderly coax free
the precious pollen
from a fresh-grown flower

for the promise of
gold flowing honey they
work to please the queen
fly to serve the hive
fly to feel alive

Poem 3: What Incarnation

In the life I lived before, I know not who nor what I was…
A man or a mouse? Where’d I live? A hut or a house?

Was I male? Female? Non-binary? Non-applicable?
Was I deemed an extrovert, a nerd, a wallflower?
Was I straight, gay, maybe asexual?
Did I seem despicable, honorable, weak?
Was I peasantry, royalty, or somewhere in-between?

I see not where I am in the cycle of samsara,
nor where I stand in terms of the karma
I’ve collected throughout my past lives’ trials.
That life I held previously… what could I have been?

A shark, cursed to swim endlessly?
The twin that nobody cared to see?
The wise leader of a great nation?
A lonely lovely pink carnation?
What incarnation was I?

I know not, nor what next I may be,
but regardless I know that right now I am me.

Poem 4: New Affair

On a late Saturday morning,
a new and special bond was forming.
Two eyes met from across the street,
and she knew it must be destiny.
One a blond man in his thirties,
working part-time on a churro cart.
The other, a fair-haired lady
who walked with flair and looked the part.
Over she began to walk,
the two strangers began to talk…
and soon she asked if he’d
be interested in a hiring opportunity
at her newly-opened Mexican restaurant.

Poem 5: Onion

Beloved by ogres,
a staple in the kitchen:
the humble onion.

Poem 6: Allium

Onion’s final bloom,
lavender-layered delight:
the fair allium.

Poem 7: Call My Name

It’s me,
You know who this is.
I’m the darkness of the night.
I’m the terror of the light.
I’m the chaos in your mind.
You know where to find me.
I know you can see me.
Stop ignoring me.

You know… it doesn’t have to be this way.
Those corporate puppets who sway in
the fickle winds of the stock exchange…
the socialist fools who let decay
the fields of the people for personal gain…
the monarchist fiends who slay
the lights of freedom by their reign…
they can all go away.
Take up my blade.

Be the change you want to see:
Follow the path of anarchy.
Money burns…
power corrupts…
man’s strengths fade…
but the blade will never die.

What are you waiting for?
Call my name.
Let the color of crimson rain from the skies
and wash away the orderly sins of today.
Let the seeds of tomorrow flourish,
so we may rejuvenate
our fields with the flowers of change.

What do you say?
Wanna give it a try?
You can’t deny
the temptation
my offer provides.
I await your answer
with eager anticipation.
You know my number.
Call me…