Tag Archives: Summer
The things we learn to loveJune Will Be Okay
Deciding this morning whether
To be afraid for our weather
For this Earth
For its Underlings
I noticed triumph
Its and Theirs
I saw green, cold tears
Gladness!
There was little left to do
Open wide the window
Cry out
Three cheers for a cold victory!
Extol
Saying, “Shave,” seems sexier
Whittle is what it was and is
These troubles
These worries of war within
Away
No more
Summer has been here
Shrouded all along….
Original thought credit: David Houston; “Gonna Lay Down My Burdens”
June Expectations
June expectations
Baseball, but not my birthday
No, none kind of warmth
unambivalent
there is no one to cry to,
and hope?
hope’s away on summer holiday,
it seems;
but the air today was to die for,
i thought.
my heart felt glad to be alive,
alive, oh!
California, Again
It’s Winter when he does this, so I buy myself time and find flowers somewhere. Color-filled, with thorns that draw my blood which proves I’m alive and not here to stay quiet and blind. These flowers, I cannot help but clutch them in desperate remembrance that it’s Summer somewhere. I was born in the Summer.
Miner’s Pick-ax
We wonder about whether to pursue the gold, giv’n to many of us as our birthright.
What of the cost, where ought we place it for safekeeping?
Sometimes wisdom begs, shouldn’t we be satisfied with silver?
Eureka! I thought this morning so loud you surely heard me.
Is the gold we claim our own? Increasingly we learn…it’s all somebody else’s alloy. An alchemist had been before us. Pouring trickery, then pulling heartstrings.
I, myself, thank the illusionist for that sweetest Summer. Warm, golden, nothing but refreshing theory. I laugh now and see the moving, invisible hand.
Take we back our minds and hearts. Go forth to the drivers seat, the miner’s pick-ax in hand. Seek silver!
Threshold
Hope and Damnation
Summer and Fall
Contrasts it seems
Perhaps
Do they not
Present themselves
On the same doorstep
After all
Red
Shadowy
Proof of light
Evidence of absence
All The You
Summer’s plans
Perhaps never in the standings
But off the table now, I know
Go gently now
All the You
Muffled sounds of would-be cheers
All the vivid color
Seasoned, learned play-by-play analysis
All the heartbreak
Lisa Mae II
The Earth
Was never going to rip itself from under you
Nor was the Air ever planning
To flee from your lungs
You weren’t waiting for the Universe
And all it’s never going to tell you
To telegraph you
Were you?
What, just what more
Do you need your perfect eyes
Asymmetric emeralds
To see
LisaRosier.com 