Gone Too Far
For billions of years
Something small has swum
In my vast wet belly
When footsteps first stepped
On my skin I welcomed them
… tickled with pleasure
Then thunderous lizards
Stomped over my dermis
A mere 165 million—nary a change
But now in this last blip
Of a few hundred decades
These opposable-thumb re-facers
Have reshaped my face
Pouring concrete on top, placing
Buildings, I occasionally shake off
How long can those destroyers
Possibly continue as they hurt
My breathing, dirty my fluidity
All I can do is let Papa Time
Take care of my problems
As he always has, always wills
Cars Are People Too
Sometimes
In the rear
View mirror
I can see
Headlights
Drift a bit
Just to look
Ahead a little
When a car
Gets impatient
You’ll sight
One suddenly
Swerving out
Of a lane
Without regard
For other automobiles
Makes me laugh
Spotting a sedan
Meekly inching
Toward another
Lane as if
Asking permission
From some
Big SUV
Ever seen
An angry vehicle
Get on the tail
Of a slower mover
Shocked if the slow
Poke slows a bit
Simply to spite
The speedster
I hate to notice
Ailing auto
Start to sway
Onto the shoulder
For a rest stop
From the rush
Or more likely
Tired of braking
Often I glance
Inside windows
To glimpse
Moving brains
Hold on tight
Trying to control
Their metal skins
Like shields
Nothing finer
Than lonesome
Wheels on
A highway
Barreling down
The concrete river
With a laughing
Skull enjoying speed
At times I hear
Music emerging
From an open
Window emanating
Feeling unleashed
Heads bob
Arms rap
To the beat
What creature
Has eyes
And mouth
In their front end
Middle and back
Expressing
Happiness
Or depression
You are one of the flowers too
It’s even easier to acknowledge Veteran’s Honor when it is a lush magenta rose as well.
Take a walk to the Rio Samba, see dresses swirling yellow, orange, and pink.
The Gemini, white center opening out to the sun of red outer petals.
Mardi Gras, you know the brilliance of an electric pink dress touched by frayed brown edges.
Belinda’s Dream, the face in the softest hint of pinkish cream that has more layers than you’ll ever experience again.
A bunch of delicate white rose petals clustered around each other, Pillow Fight! (Radiating suns in the middle of every pillow.)
Scattered white flowers, near pink ones, next to yellow, a Rainbow Knock Out.
Midas Touch is the goldest yellow imaginable; if roses were money….
Royal Amethyst has cornered the market on lavender, such a feast full of flora.
What’s left but yellow heavily tinged with pink, Love & Peace, a perfectly shaped rose.
No, look down at this! Small roses blushing to white…just like Passionate Kisses!
The ultimate coupled rose? A Double Delight of sun yellow vortex and bold red ends.
But what makes this garden complete?
The petite beach-tanned cellphone photographer in her white dress artfully filled with black paisleys, sandal-exposed white-out painted toes, her fragrant smiling face framed by an auburn hairfall.
It's All Too Much
A universe littered with galaxies beyond my imagination
Every spiral stretching outward festooned of stars
Each sun sporting some planets, moons and asteroids
This sphere always covered by untold clouds
Oceans alive since evolution evolved here
Thousands upon thousands of fish, sharks, and whales cruising currents
Shores infested in the billions because trees grow and humans manifest
Beings briefly bringing forth into being millions of buildings and books
Made merrier making music and art and children
A ground even more populated around a quadrillion animals and insects
Enough food and flowers to delight all those eyes and noses and mouths
Burgeoning brains recreate creating electric visions and revisions
I'm just a pixel in a pixel in a pixel in a pixel
Part of the whole shebang breathing in and out
Cosmic light went on, someday I am shut off
To be recycled as the planet pleases until it ceases
Also repurposed multiversally for unknowable time
Does God have a new design planned in the possibly etch-a-sketch future
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