What a sunflower has
A sunflower
is a flower
it has petals
like a flower
it has color
like a flower
it needs sun
like a flower
But what it has
that no other flower has
is the energy
to stay happy
wherever they are
no matter how hard
they work
they try their best
with happiness.
So to whoever is listening,
Be like the sunflower.
The light of the world
the opposite of darkness.
Look the Other Way
Cerulean sky
stretches down to kiss flowers
sunflower turns face
earthy heart bleached by the sun
watermelon moon beckons
Let me tell you a story
Let me tell you a story about a girl who was born in the sunflowers
It was a series of bad luck really
Her water broke early and one flat tire later they’re in the middle of a field
But sometimes those worst moments turn into the best days of our lives
A baby’s cry rings out amongst the endless flowers
Let me tell you a story about a girl who grew up in the sunflowers
Her papa loves her so much he plants her a garden of sunflowers
She spends her childhood hiding, and reading.
and playing, and sleeping.
and breathing in the flowers
Let me tell you a story about a girl who fell in love in the sunflowers
This little girl grows up and moves away
She becomes a gardener
And that’s when a young man starts coming by
He asks about a different type of flower everyday
Until he comes in and says he’s looking for the perfect flower to ask out a girl
She suggests sunflowers
Half an hour later he suggests they have lunch together with a bouquet in hand
They were married surrounded by the yellow flowers
Let me tell you a story about a girl who lived her life in the sunflowers
Over time her back starts to ache
So when she’s saved up enough, she opens a floral shop
She spends the rest of her days selling sunflowers
And going home to a husband who always makes sure there’s a vase of them by the window
And to two sunshiny little girls who love the colour yellow
Let me tell you a story about a girl who died in the sunflowers
She lived a good life, a happy life
Eventually her skin started to wrinkle and her hair turned white
but as she lay there in that hospital bed, she knew she was loved
So many bouquets, all of them sunflowers
Until her whole room was garden
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep-
And yet...
Let me tell you a story about a girl who was reborn as a sunflower
for a while it’s cold and dark
wet and damp and cramped
so cramped she decides to stretch
she stretches until her fingers break through the earth
and she pulls herself up towards the sky
And when she feels brave enough, she uncovers her face to feel the sun
The warm glow kisses her cheeks as she smiles
her yellow petals caressed gently by the breeze
Sunflower Eclipse
Autumn breezes raked
the ephemeral essence
of withering verdure
across barren dirt
where the balance
of unspent years
laid witness to
the change
of seasons.
Winter would soon
drape the decaying
in ivory sheets of snow
to be stained
with mire
&
swallowed in
hollow crevices
(carved by the hands of time
repeatedly striking the end of an era)
&
consumed
beneath the burden
of
six feet of soil.
Still.
Time marched on.
Summer scorched seeds sown
in the year’s morning
known as Spring.
Bermuda blades,
having just pierced
the earth’s healing wounds,
perished in the drought
while high-desert Fahrenheit
fueled unrelenting winds that
plucked
&
scattered
bouquets of
sun-bleached silk flowers
across a hillside
stitched in stones
&
dotted with decor
left
for the dearly departed
as though the season
(of grief)
was mocking her
in its tattering
of her
(favorite floral)
family.
She gathered each floret
while traversing
toward the cemetery’s egress.
Intricate, iron details
(married in metal
like honeysuckle vines
bound to a garden trellis)
spiraled upward to
an inscribed
passage of peace
that arched over
several young stalks
stretching toward heaven
as they flanked
the two gate posts,
separated
by twelve spires.
There, her umber heart
caught its likeness
in each crepuscular face
surrounded by
yellow-gold petals
as though crowned
with the sun.
She thought:
Like shadows slumber
pitch as night,
(sunflowers sleeping ’til first light)
eclipsed,
horizon’s
hide sun’s rays
behind the path
to morrow’s day
Hers was no uncommon journey,
many survivors
vanquished in the valley,
yet,
knowing that shadows
form in the presence
of illumination,
she found comfort
in realizing that
Light was following her
(like heliotropes track the Sun)
&
had gone before her
to shine on her, again,
once she had reoriented
in the darkness
to the dawn
of a new day.
Though still shrouded
in the umbra
of
the Shadow of Death,
the moment of solace
was etched upon her soul
as she turned her cheeks
(kissed with bereft bitterness)
toward the face of God
and drank
the amber hues
of hope
in full bloom.
invincible
she is a
sunflower.
standing tall,
towering above
the torment of
the world.
she wears
a crown
of butter
yellow,
radiant,
almost glowing.
she is full
of
seeds.
seeds of wisdom,
seeds of hope,
seeds of
possibility.
her stalk
can support
anything,
so go
ahead
and throw
it at her.
murders
of crows,
drought,
weedkiller.
she will
remain.
but like
a sunflower
one day
she will
wither
away
&
die.
sea of sunflowers
I look across a sea of
sunflowers
in an open, sun-dipped field.
Where the honey-soaked petals glow
like untouched gold
and every leaf is emerald-spun.
And the summer-sweet potential
amongst each of the towering --unreachable--
hand-picked flowers
has me feeling smaller than ever .
For to leave me abandoned
in a faultless sunset meadow
- - I don't belong - -
is to leave me examining the
star-dropped beauty of every
sunflower
while I forget myself.
For how can I compare to something so perfect as the sunflowers I'm drowning in?
Sunflower
Our love was like a Sunflower,
growing up towards the Sun,
Higher and higher, we were Lovers,
we were smiling, having fun
But just as a Sunflower lasts,
our love and infatuation
would never last a long, long time,
now
it's
in
the
past...
After warmth, and beauty, our Sunflower
cripples up and falls to the ground
most of what's left will be covered in frost
and then -
gone,
like a discussion
from the
past.
20.7.2020
Sunflowers and rust
1.
we walk by the distorted field,
not yellow, not brown, but orange.
we remark sadly:
here grew sunflowers.
can’t they grow, in this sludge?
or is it, that no pollen passes,
on the wings of the burnt bees.
the stalks shrivle to the touch,
there is almost a sigh,
a cry.
the field mourns the yellows.
chalk and tar, cake my boots,
i caution you, friend,
watch your step.
2.
there was an artist, long ago.
who sought no fame , nor fortune.
every day went he to the field,
and sketched:those sunflowers.
he explained once that the theme,
may seem the same.
but everyday, he sees changes,
here petals grow,
there a magpie steals.
and through this change he sees in himself the sturdy granite,
which lives forever.
there was another artist.
daily he took the knife,
and cut and burned.
he then took his easel,
and the canvas,
and daily set about drawing,
his scars he drew,
against the yellow backdrop
of the sunflowers.
he explained, that the scars and blood are daily changing,
slowly spiraling down
while the sunflowers remain constant.
there was a third man,
he could nor draw, or sing or write.
he held a match box in his hand,
there were no explanations given.
3.
the ersatz sunflowers in a vase,
will dust , long before it wilts,
i hold on to the last of the seeds,
spiced in sickly annis, and sweet.
i wish the differences in expectation,
would be more manageable.
4.
Socratese drank the hemlock,
he loved the truth,
and did not see the lies.
my grandfather took my bishop,
i could not reposte,
the queen was lost, next.
I won once only, when his mind was gone.
There will be no mention of the dutchman,
who drew sunflowers, I do not care.
if the sunflowers knew of chess,
and truth and self mutilation,
would they see their oriantation a joke?
or will they just shrugg ,
and let the eaons pass?
Sunflowers
sunflowers rise up
towards our adoring faces
simple and saturated
au naturel
yellow like the bee
sucking on its seeds
nature is smiling at us
for what is beauty
but catching our collective breath
seizing the day
teach us your ways
What a tricky thing, love is.
Many find themselves in a love triangle
Mine takes the form of a square
When the Sun rises and shines
So does my beauty
It adorns the earth and
My stunning yellow petals, ahh
They are celebrated
Water loves the earth
The earth loves me
I love the Sun
The Sun loves water
With the latter
It's more the agape kind of love
The one my heart yearns for
Gives me a type of love that burns my soul
Burns me out and dries me to death
The one my heart yearns for
Can only so touch me with his rays
If you look closely we almost look alike
If you look closely we almost look one
Even if you prayed closer to heaven
Him and I could never be together
With my roots shackled to the earth
He pays the price of seeing me
Sleep, turn beautiful and die
But, what a pretty sight for me
An eyesore, I tell you
Even when I perish
His beauty sends me off lavishly
Man, what a tricky thing, love is.