I
The trees flourish
In the sun, the winds
While the saprobes
Bide their time
II
A leaf falls
Time digests
Only for cycle
To begin anew
Death:
The harbinger of rebirth
III
I read somewhere that Van Gogh
searched for happiness in sunflowers,
and for some years, I did as well.
I would look for the yellow things on my way to work.
Some days there would be none,
and others, I would find them lining the footpath—
bright, yellow, happy.
And I think now I have not looked for them in a while.
Can you find sunflower in a person?
Because I did.
And now, I don’t need to look for them,
because I have one.
Possess one.
Can keep one.
Forever.
Mine.
IV
Amidst chaos
You
Made sense
V
She says she loves me more,
While I sit and create for her
Poems and love notes,
Untouched by tragedies
That I would write before.
Now I paint songs,
Just for her.
VI
How easy is it to fall
When you don’t know the depth?
When you don’t know if someone
Is there to catch you?
How easy it is to fall
When you don’t know how much you will splatter,
When you don’t know the impact the end holds.
How sublime will it be
When you will finally fall,
And there is someone to catch you after all.
VII
I claim
even a brush with leaves
of a low hanging branch
a lovers touch
VIII
I confided to myself once
that I want to kiss death.
Something inside me shrieked
with glee, fool, it said.
You can't have something
that comes into existence
when you cease to be.
IX
You know what?
I want to hold a funeral for the loves of overrated things.
I don’t think I have the energy to understand the abstract anymore.
So, give me all your old wives’ tales and your songs with stories withheld.
Feed me all your wicked fairy tales and your epics, all tragically morose.
Color me purple with your flowery prose.
I want to say a eulogy, perhaps; it will make you bawl.
Then I will have their shadows haunt me evermore.
X
I saw you,
Excited in your peace,
As much as I have ever been
In my moments of violence.