Author: lbstowe

Living lush & underscored are women still to wait?
Languishing in garden coves content to just be bait?

Obsessed with what not to say, her petals fall to bed.
Never knowing her own bloom; nor seeds within her head.

Waiting for her pollinator, spring has passed her by.
Fruit she hasn’t tasted falls for maggot & for fly.

Evolutions, two, fed upon her beauty rotted.
Fruit’s grave grows her second act; whence her roots were slotted.

May this new wind scatter her to newer unkempt lands…
Where she can grow & spread & leap, free from pruning hands.

The Ticky-Tacky plastic poured.
Flimsy sawdust particle board. 

The flooring…beige linoleum.
It’s heavy on petroleum.

Appliance…avocado green.
Formica cupboards glittering.

An automatic wash & dry.
The popcorn ceilings sprayed on high.

Rainbow of glycerine knick-knacks.
All came in heavy, dense, flat-packs.

Plasticine coated wood can’t last!
So buy more now! Supplies won’t last!

Common as raindrops, innumerable as sand…
Old Babylon’s tongues bred throughout every land.

Loanwords & calques & idiom & dialect.
Differentiations upon each known subject.

A Janus word is least of what misconceives us.
Communicating words cleaves us & cleaves us.

Phrases in the billions & words ever the more.
Then there are poets who take words to fly & soar.

More meanings in language than ever one can learn.
Yet, for understanding each other, we all yearn.

Burnt in light & lost in shade…
On the cusp, where all does fade. 

Open heart & curious mind…
Wishing for a home to find.

Out of sorts with compass smashed…
Wind & rain & squall have lashed.

Delving dusk to fathom dawn…
Helpless as an offside pawn.

Whether with or without flock…
Even gods obey the clock.

Many buds do open late…
August’s bloom’s still welcome fate!

Stalks may be oft cut to earth…
Still, spared roots assert rebirth.

I’ll keep seeking til I’m dead…
Maybe hearth is just ahead.

Breaking fast I gorge myself.
Eating quick the entire shelf.

Hungry still I fill the trough.
The cuffs of diet I slough.

This break of fast will last days.
Holiday from healthy ways.

The strict routine that saved me.
Hard discipline not tasty.

I’ll return to rigid rounds.
Though not before eating pounds.

Thus, full & over-sated.
Salubrious re-fated.

Distracted from dwelling on what they are selling…& what they are selling is debt.
Commercial intrusions on storied illusions; we’re never escaping the net.

A shilling, a pence & a pound of our flesh can be owed without signing a thing.
We live on the other side of the tracks; but we have nice cars & we’re wearing bling.

We spend what we don’t have & we live on account; with no chances ahead to save.
Most boats are sinking & no one is blinking, counting on currency to behave.

There’s no way to climb up slight ladders of ice; formed from what little that trickles down.
Poor folks can’t endure drought, without cure, they have aught; to survive when blight comes to town.

Aristocracy always prefers it this way…where only they can save the day.
So, invest in agility & sustainability; break up standard play.

All of us use filters, depending on our audience.
Meeting someone where they’re at helps negate intolerance.

Focusing on common ground’s a key to build consensus.
Hyping where we differ leads us straight to points contentious.

Even all alone, we have a mad chorus in our souls.
Cheering us & jeering us, whilst we make for simple goals.

Which ones have our attention & which ones do we keep fed?
A human contains multitudes in each asylum head.

We all have inner foci; the trick is what they sound like.
Is your best self the loudest; or, do critics hold the mic?

Maybe where real breaks apart is where dimensions bleed.
Thinner parts of boundaries where physics has to cede.

Schizophrenic atoms fuse together & apart.
Way across the Milky Way, both ending where they start.

The surface of the moon, at once, lithium & cheese.
What lives on the ocean’s floor knows not of skies; but seas.

Sun screams morning into night; heralding each season.
What science doesn’t know, man blindly ascribes reason.

What’s beyond the looking glass, can just as well look back.
Maybe, where the sane wears thin, I can traverse the crack.

Why, as a species, do we still fight over mythology?
We can’t seem to progress past this suicide pathology.

Why do invisible fairytales cost more than human life?
They don’t & that’s the problem; this ouroboros of our strife.

War needs news & news needs war; extreme belief is fed by both.
Millennia here in civil form & still no signs of growth.

If you need belief in myth, then have it just for you & yours.
Arbitrary lines on maps are rarely felt… except at shores.

Step over them & see the global people we’ve always been.
Do we want our world to fight itself all over…once again?

The grey matter of puzzle pieces; each contorted square.
A jigsaw on a cocaine binge hath made my mind go spare.

Starting at the edges, building a frame to then fill in.
Still miffed at what the whole should be; no picture on the tin.

Warped evil genius will answer for efforts to conceal.
Not a single clue’s been proffered; this game gives no reveal.

Slow, my pride dug in, I seek pairs to show the end occult.
This may take my lifetime; I have no guaranteed result.

Each new match bewilders me; still no notion of the art.
This thousands worded image, only done if I play part?

I only know connections that I’ve made along the way.
Maybe the last piece is me…slotted on my dying day.