Monthly Archives: May 2014


Searching in a forest for a tree,
All the same bark and leaves,
Not knowing which one is to be,
So many yet still wanting to believe,
Eyes grow glassy and dull,
Steps are mechanical and timed,
Guarding so close it’s impossible to fall,
Not knowing what to find,
Then came the rose,
Amidst all the dead memories,
Everyday my love for it grows,
So strong it takes my burdens to carry,
The only thing with color so true,
A smell so sweet it shakes my bones,
Wanting alone this rose and nothing new,
This rose is home,

By Tim.


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Rain drops on glass
Silver on grass
Paper-mâché flower
Wilts from the fall
Wonder where it
All comes from.
Uncovered shoulder
Melts against the rain.
Wonder if all the flowers feel the same.
Indigo cloud blows so high
Have you seen nothing
Like that sky?
Won’t you like it when
The puddles overflow
To step your feet into?
And hazy darkness
Lightens to blue.
Unbutton your over coat
Don’t keep your chill inside.
No one but me is gonna
Try to hide.
Fog coils on the road
Makes me think of home.
Why should I stand here
In the rain when I can roam?

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Pretty Plants

Strange yellow dots
You call them weeds,
But beautiful things
Bloom from many seeds.

I know green grass
Is the desired view
And yellow-white flowers
Stand out to just few.

So live in your house
And love your green shoots
And I’ll lie between wildflowers
And love my grassroots.

Perfect green grass,
All two inches high,
Will one day grow old,
Turn brown and die.

But beautiful blemishes –
Weeds – as you say,
Will mature in the sun
And be carried away.

So while your perfect lawn
Returns to the ground,
And my favorite plants
Are floating around,
Your view will be bare
Before autumn’s end
And my higher sight will
Forever transcend.

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