And he's a tree
who wants to come inside
like a million cats, he smiles
with twice as many green and golden eyes
a flower-power growing on the outside
of my windowsill
tapping at the screen to let him in
And he's a shady golden tree
A tree who wants to live with me.
A tree who loves me more than me
A tree who wants to be let in
how come the apple in my hand is sour?
what if it was just out of reach?
But since he's standing at my door
Risking all his roots and leaves
I can't just say
that if he would just run away
I'd follow.
July 21 2004
9:17pm















Comments
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"Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly." The Dalai Lama
hmm but there is something about the very end of this .. last 3 lines seem odd to me ... maybe they don't fit right ... maybe they feel rushed to me .. maybe they are just wrong (right, i am gonna tell you that your damn poetry is wrong ..
iamwith
It could be that it just doesn't work well like that... every person "reads" poetry's beats differently... this might be a case where this should have been read out loud for the beats to work the way I want them to... the way I "hear" them.
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