MAJOR MOOD

love you forever~

 dried and dead purple flowers.

I live in a world where my love is scattered across the sky.

Thin it lies, but all my love is there for everyone.

This place is a beautiful planet, we can dance with no

Shoes on and we can cry our hearts out to each other.

I love the way everyone smiles here. The mood is nothing

But a full watermelon and some good beers. I will

Live here forever with myself. No one understands me

anywhere else anyways. The trees will share their age with

Me when I become too weak because I give my

everything every day to everyone.

Running out of space to put my mind.

Please don’t let the time between days scare you.

We really don’t know where we go when we die,

But now is not the time, to discuss the size of the

Newspaper or the amount of money we spend.

Paperclips get in between our months, like water

Running out the faucet. Other than berries the

Color of blue, clouds rain hard down on us.

Licking envelopes to stop time should help

Heal the wounds of our mothers. Wasting the

Plastic bottles will make our bird’s nest die.

Say goodbye to the dandelions as for Winter is here.

The Trees will shed its summer bark and the

River stream will move a little slower.

With ice forming on the foreheads of the river

rocks, fish can’t make it downstream like

they used to. And the river will lose its flow.

Flowers and a vine.

Don’t ask me what’s wrong, because I don’t even know.

The wind blows, my hair flows but something is wrong.

I can’t tell if the fine women sitting in the café is looking

At me or if she is contemplating her situation.

The sidewalk never ends where you want it to.

And bus stops can’t be bothered with elevator music.

Fingernails that are longer than a mile, scratch my

Left brain lobe. With no teeth and a basket of flowers 

The librarian is off for her first date.

Don’t leave the Friends you have.

As I sit under the cherry tree I feel something.

I can hear something, very close. Closer than my eyes to my face.

I made a friend with a Black Bird, and he was eating my brain.

From inside I could roll my eyes back and take a look.

What a cute little fellow, sun yellow eyes and a sand paper tongue.

He sings me a little tune as he nibbles at my human brain.

Do I stop him? Or do I keep the one friend I made?

Not sure if my knowledge is weakening because of him,

But I just leave him be. I can’t interrupt him, so he stays.
Every time I go near the cherry tree I feel something.

My love for potatoes came from Mr. Jones.

Living with Mr. Jones I learned a lot of stuff

He taught me how to play piano and how

to plant potatoes. Mr. Jones gave me two

E.E. Cummings books which I fell in love with.

The type of love where birds sing and

you see your own heart dancing freely.

Mr. Jones let me cut his grass for six quarters

and a glass of Lemonade. He was a sweet

old soul, the color of copper and his eyes

would glisten in the fall moon. Mr. Jones

was the only soul that understood me.