The Garden
The Garden
of
of
Go See Me
Go See Me
She came over and told me the truth about the weeds in my yard something others have looked at and no they complemented or raised a ambivalence towards
I planted a garden. Yeah yeah everyone does not. Not me. I managed to kill a plastic plant
the sieve
the sieve
the sieve
the sieve
A poem
The poetic words
The words strained through from their storyline
The sieve that blocks the unwanted particles
Taking away the bitterness
The coldness
The pain
The clumps
The rocks
Those will now be changed
What remains
Is what God intended
The purpose
The plan
The reason for living
What comes through is all that is left
Substance gone.
There are those who simply shake the strainer
Awaiting the powdery peaceful flow
And there are those who beat the edges
In an attempt to accelerate
Making the sifting feelings go
the sieve
the sieve
I am neither of those
Pushing down, choking
I break up the clumps forcing them to go through
Ending up with random words
Incomplete stories
Because the words I was writing, froze
Words in my world
Restricted the ease of their flow
And that is how
I continued my unknown
A few words
Here and there
A few feelings that escape in the air
There is poetry there
Somewhere
I simply must breathe
And permit the words to flow
Workshop number one
I am beginning the year
Let’s see where this goes.
Farewell Ladyship
Farewell Ladyship
Here we are
Here we are
messages
messages
messages
messages
messages
messages
messages
messages
Scripture
Scripture
Scripture
Scripture
Scripture
Scripture
Results
Results
Dear God
Dear God
the garden of goseeme
the garden of goseeme
The Garden of GoseeMe
Slithering its underside along the dehydrated earth below, the serpent struck. Tiresome efforts, an obsession to display a garden of worth demanded a compulsion to be acted upon; days, nights, sweat, scars…
My Achilles. The back of my foot. A place within me, most tender. I had been watching everything around me. Studying the environment. I watched everything except my own feet.
First the internal shock and awe. I had been struck. Then, the toxic molecules, much like betrayal and deceit, slithered their way to the lymphatic vessels. They take the back roads. The unsuspecting lymphatic fluid, purposed to house infection and transgression fighting cells. So important is this fluid, it is part of the immune system. This fluid absorbs the fats, the fat soluble nutrients, like the casual snaps and growls when one is hangry. Allowing things to roll off your shoulders easier. Poisoning this fluid leaves your entire system compromised and unable to mount a strong defense against anything.
The lifeline of my lymphatic vessels run parallel to the blood vessels, entering the bloodstream through the veins near the heart. From the most tender spot directly to my heart, poison has made its way in.
Once inside, flowing along as though it belongs, the venom begins its kill.
The veins of the heart.
The veins of the head and the neck which holds up the head.
The veins of the exterior of the head and face.
The diploic veins.
The veins of the brain.
The veins of the upper extremity and thorax.
The veins of the lower extremity, abdomen, and pelvis.
the garden of goseeme
the garden of goseeme
The Garden of GoseeMe
Venom decreases blood presure and increases blood clots which begin punching holes into arteries, causing them to leak. When this happens, there is nothing left to stop the flow of blood.
Poison flowed through singeing, branding its mark onto each organ as though it were cattle. It's not hot, it's fire. I'm burning. Initially my blood burns like fire as it travels through my once rhythmic cycle, then in a lightning flash, it turns to ice. I am now frozen. Blocks of ice inside.
I begin breathing deeply. I am giving my lymphatic system a ‘pumping function’. I must continue on my guided drift. Moment to moment. Guide me Lord because I have not a clue.
My stomach and intestines, grasping for something to hold onto. Hold in. Hold onto then release. Eliminate. There is nothing there. I swallow. Words don't provide enough mass to make a difference.. Like celery/ Celery grows fluidly when immersed in constant hydration. Eating, chewing, swallowing, digesting-celery has absolutely zero health benefits. Stories growing through each celery shoots in the stalk, opening up to make room and foster every new leaf in its infancy draft stages.
Invaded by the blade, cut to feed another. Fully grown and ready to graduate to its next chapter in this celery’s life; it accepts its tender pruning with ease. Julienned, sliced thinly and fanned out, stretching and highlighting each rib. This celery is among other garden variety friends and with honor, feeds a hungry soul a full meal.
The self-serving gluttonous ones. Those who pay no attention to the growth, only see to grab all they want. Sure, they may shove it full of peanut butter and adorn it with plump golden raisins; because black ones resemble cockroaches, golden raisins that pop tenderly upon the first savoring bite.
Shreds of ribs lay separately. Dangling separated from it's unit holding it together. Too young and tender of a stalk for the ribs to hold their shape. Instead, they lay there. Feathered out and shredded. The bottom of the root holding all sltalks; thereby holding all ribs as well, smudges of pink and brown stains from the earth from which it came. Lifeless. It raises its eyebrow to me. Return this leftover piece to water. Green thumb, I have not. Simple directions: immerse in water and rinse daily to break up any slime and gunk that could develop into a silky smooth deceptive sheen. This will rot your roots, rendering them useless, especially if your way of submersion is with unfiltered water that leaves a residue of materials, metals, bacteria, and then death to any dream of growth. Rinse over and over, filling all crevices. Immerse again into Water. Repeat. Allow firm stalks to grow.
Purpose
Purpose
