To create or to consume, that is the question
To cook or to gorge, needs answering
When a leaf flutters down from a tree
Dead, worn and bereft of life
The earth greets it with little mercy
And proceeds to devour it utterly
But ask the tree what she poured into that leaf
And she answers calmly, all the life that came before me
Our duty is to be, but our desire is to set free
What lives within us, from others already freed
From the mortal yoke
It takes a poke, a nudge and sometimes a push
For it comes not easy, not easily shook
But once you breathe the air of creation
You will never again question
Whether to eat or create
You draw upon the joys and pain of the billions before you
And you exhale into being, a beautiful bloom

in your bloom, everything finds a softer shape—all bent by tenderness. your sweet fragrance unfurls, letting me feel home in all directions. even in stillness, your presence ripples—like a soft pulse, a faint glow; like the first light gently falling on earth.

you are a flower pressed into my heart—wild and perfect—rooted in every beat, entwining itself to the rhythm of my life.

She is that flower in pinkish-red hems
Blooming amidst the silent, withered stems;
She does not need any grace of water,
But pleased to tears that have fallen over

My hand trembles, I cannot pluck her roots—
She's too precious to be in worn-out boots;
Though it hurts, I'll hope there's a gardener
Who'll place her where light shines a bit kinder.

Dreams whisper softly,
Stars fall like tears,
Hearts beat wildly,
Love conquers fears,
Hope blooms eternal,
Time heals scars,
Forever ours.

It's five am, and there's a slow soaking rain.
It came with a single clap of thunder.
It carries
not only the washed clean smell
of falling water,
but also flowers,
Red maple bark,
and autumn leaves.
There's not an ounce of light yet,
but I swear I feel the warmth
just below the horizon
like love that has yet to blossom.
Its echo whispers. Give it time.

Tin man, on the eve of tin,
your apology rings hollow.

I think that you
were only trying to

crack a window,
find a space to crawl back in,

attempt to
erase me some more.

Meanwhile, the police
are off investigating

crimes that happen in
real time. They like

to catch their perps
red-handed. Even with you

cast in the limelight,
confirming that what you did

to me was real,
it was my own nightmare.

I know, we fall into
that grey area.

In a garden of blooms
you walk freely,

inhaling and dreaming
of touching

those yet untouched
pink and yellow buds.

love is a bouquet
filled with the bloom's embrace
of scented flowers

I was found
A flower of purple bloom
Alone, in a gloom
Until petals of yellow
Scent soothing
Took root not far away

After time
And months of rhyme
She whispered
To the yellow bloom
Said that there was no room
For the two of us

"Wild violet"
I was branded
Called a ****,
Said to be slowly
Choking out the yellow bloom
That in that garden
There was no room
For a vile ****

Alas, a **** I was not
Am not
For I am a flower
Nothing more

But
Call me what you want
Drop venom where you please
My voice perhaps stolen
My leaves torn by your
Shaking hands
Fists in the air
But I hold in
A thousand words
To battle your chaos
Cast away
With every attack
Like leaves to a blower

I won't lie
That's your job
Cruel gardener
Pick all of my petals
Shred my leaves
Pull me by the roots

Still I shall stand
No matter the swinging
Of your crazed trimmers
Snipping away

Though far away
I shall stay
Just a memory
Fueling your chaos
Growing a wall of thorns
Dripping with blood
Around your proud bloom
Of yellow light.

- Jay M
September 18th, 2020