CPoetry

the greater bend in the pedal of a flower, the greater enthusiasm it has to live. ::: strung from Point Nowhere to Point Nowhere, i am a spider that has woven its own memory and walked its own whereabouts across Amnesia. ::: to i cling and i climb thing and every you are any if i am a vine, ::: lightning strikes from the ground up;                          me)           You kiss (after ::: Whole is what you must be to ever be what is holy to Me; Surrender, defender, to this incontestable contract. ::: approach an angry person like the smell of rain; you may not like the wetness, but something about his or her need for self-forgiveness is pleasant; let one forgive his or herself before he or she forgives you ::: not yet-not yet-not yet-not yet-not yet -not yet-not yet-not yet-not yet -not yet-not yet-not yet; behold! the Trail to Success!

if i were an apple on top of an inclined crate whom fell, a couple, times, ouch, oh god i'm sorry, ahh!, oops, ugh... *, would you still pick me? * = burdens, bruises, insecurities,  fear, mistakes, regrets, weaknesses,  false love-beliefs, ignorance,  arrogance, nightmares and all. ::: hi Ladybug, i have come here to ask Nature some questions? Oh? yes. does It have time to talk? Always. well, you're a part of Nature right? As much as I am my spots and wings! ok, i guess i will ask you then. does Nature have a prophecy? No. It was both foretold and will be foretelling, but it is best revealed now. ::: the young tree took to the abandoned piano while  young dandelions pressed the pedals;  they played a song so serene it made the rest of the forest feel as though they were born one minute from yesterday. ::: contrasting shadows move as You move your head; they boomer

a swelling tide of emotion is the rip current of a chasm negligence. ::: Ego closed the tab, but i am still drinking... annd yoeur the bartenderrrr. ::: materialism: surely you must have a desire for such delicacies! minimalism: oh I do! Very much so! materialism: then where are your delicacies? minimalism: within me. my desires  are  delicate. ::: fingerprint printing on top of palm-boat, [pausing], walking, moving slightly more, [pausing], palm-boat flipping, capsizing, finger drawbridge rising, rising, rising, locked. ::: go ahead. throw the beach ball out into the ocean and watch while is floats right back to the shore; it may drift briefly, but it will return. account for the waves---the wind. do not exhaust yourself. the beach ball will never sail; Love cannot navigate the thought, "i'm not good enough."

most people make the mistake of looking up when it rains; "gloomy day huh?" someone says, "look down. the earth is always greener on these days; it reflects a quenched thirst and lathers itself in the Excess." ::: wooden booths soak in banter and grief and betrayal and surprise and news and intellectual learning and "oh my god, did you---" and head nods and talking hands and  caffeinated, tonal waves splashing. fans whisk the cake batter of a collective experience. the clock crucified on the wall is as arbitrary as it always has been. lamp light puts a small moon next to the pupil planet within the iris of the soul that fills the space across from me; You.                   ::: children; markers, flags, constant alarms. signals SHOUTING AT US to start chasing the butterfly in the field that is our own youth's Eternal.