Bad posture

A lone flower grew in the garden of weeds
Blossoming to take in the sparse sunlight
Spreading joy in the patch with its vibrancy
Summer saw great weather and then in fall
But winter came to say goodbye with frozen ground
The translation came in a cold, cold breeze
The root of the problems hidden under hard soil
Sending a shivering death call up the stem
As each leaf and petal starts to sag in sadness
It rejoins the weeds without the sun
Gray clouds provide cover to this flower bed
Hoping for hope that spring will come again.

that mistake was gold..

i cover up as i ascend a mountain to get closer to something
legs burning as the rest of me freezes in the snow
what does it mean when i can only speak to you with eyes closed
whispering prayers to no god in particular, hoping to be heard
words turn to vapor in the cold air and slowly disappear
maybe if i can see them, you can hear them
crossing that plane between us like old letters
pounds of dirt and stone can't bury this memory
i dig them up every year and look for new ways to forget
things would be so much easier
i would switch places in an instant
the world could be a little better for it.

dm...

...

So this is life..
and here I sit and watch as it parades by,
trying to find a reason to march along.
It's not so bad..
they're seraching for an ever present eye
by staring up to bright fluorescent skies.

smoke rings

driving down dusty highways, wiping the slate clean
passing waterfalls of past desires
sneaking a glance over the edge to see what awaits us
at the bottom of a canyon we'll all fall into
trying to get to the better things we're hoping for
but the roads are frozen
friction is necessary to get anywhere
we've been spinning our wheels for quite some time
laminating our ages so they won't change
following the grain in the wood and the tune in our heads
writing our history in pencil so we can change it later
looking at the world through this old lens
it's time for a new prescription

*dm