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Adventure by Ollie

A Search for Purpose in a Random World

Girl with Elephant

I gave my love to an elephant

Tied with a bow in box

She took it gladly, how elegant

Said she, she said I know

A way we both can lephagent

Like others seem to do

Tie a string around your legalant

And away we will go

Those below us all emoji-ed

And thought it such a trip

To see a girl and eleblimp

Fly so hip

 

Turtles Cross Here

Floweredly the counter bluebells

Ringing across the fields

Of sheep and baby

Lambs bleat in the sunlight

Rays streaking

Nude like over the valley

And I’m not drunk

Yet, quite dizzy though,

You’re to blame for

Turtles cross here

The white brickwork road

Leads to my bed somewhere

The end waits comforting with promises

Of sleep warm, so safe, so safe the words

echoing through the newly formed nights,

No love within them.

eight, nine, ten…

To have that ten back,

seconds tick away and the moment is passed

the present was right here in front of me:

blue eyes, round lips, arms like oh my god –

can I lick them? bite them? taste them? salt.

the gathering of words and stumbling

Why can’t my mouth say what my heart wants?

“I love you.”

Say it.

Three words, ten seconds…

The whistle blows,

final boarding.

I’ll write.

Me too.

eight, nine are leaving

ten turned to wave

all the world is a train is an airport

is the car driving away

is the melting horizon in sunset

and I can’t find my keys.

Driftwood

Driftwood

Where come did you go

And mango the flowering trellis

Like me

Small hands a bit clumbsying the way

Pastel chalk doth do

As the sea makes it’s market in the sand

Then recinds.

Can we lemonade the day

Salty sweet

Or will it drift away

Beneath of feet?

The Prince and the Princess

princess thought

frog he was not

handsome princely

said many

need never for

money to wed

beautiful and wealthy

not greedy

heart decided

it had found love

 

love found

had it

decided heart

greedy

not beautiful and wealthy

wed to money for never need

many said

princely handsome

not he

was frog

thought prince

Sun Rising

Sun, the rising of

East, welcoming

birdsong chorus-ers

flowering, skies blue

beckoning me unto

but feel it I do not

can’t see top to bottom

and

bottom to top.

See? Can not.

Do I it feel,

but unto me, beckoning:

chorus-ers, birdsong,

blue skies, flowering?

Welcoming,

east of rising,

the Sun.

It Happened So

It happened so quickly

the hand could not

reverse itself.

All I remember through breezes

heavy kissing the blue dress:

wind moving trees,

birds winging, singing bright,

yellow sun.

And now?

Sun yellow, bright,

singing, winging birds,

trees moving wind,

dress- blue.

The kissing heavy, breezes through.

Remember I all.

Itself, reverse not.

Could hand the quickly?

So happened it.

Top Step Hat Dance

walk crazy,

this way and that

step likely

to be in top hat

or to be in humble rags

as though the world were not

a place where such things happened

as to say to one come here,

and to the other – go now.

Do not be fooled, friend –

‘what I do to another, I have done unto myself’.

So, sandal the feet.

Crazy walk, this way,

and that step likely humble –

as though the world were not.

A Broken Little Nut

Hand was reaching in and peeling back

the folds of comfort neatly tucked

protective gauze, aware or not,

until exposed the inner gut.

And was it of golden hue?

A pure and perfect nut?

It was severely flawed;

a broken little box,

but the heart adored the small and flaw-ful nut

with humble make and raw construct

And loved it more, though flaws may be,

than any gem of rare beauty.

In conclusion…

I don’t give my heart half-heartedly,

or stumble a bit into love.

One look, one spark, the light in your eyes

was enough to move me.

I am a cliff jumper,

high flyer;

I am insane.

My faith knows nothing of

practicality- I could use a dose of it,

to be sure of my own necessity.

Walk slowly?

Cautiously?

Look both ways?

How shall I,

and what will my conclusion be?

 

 

 

The White Heron and I

I walked side by side with the white heron;

my heart was full of uncertainty,

but he did not flee- he trusted me-

and in this he seemed to say,

“You can handle that which is coming.”

On the Upswing

On the upswing

connecting ball to bat

giving all I had.

On the upswing

feeling high and proud

soaring, crowd gone wild,

ready to run all bases.

“Foul ball” declares the umpire,

and it doesn’t seem fair at all.

Just. Do. It. AGAIN

and again and again and again.

DON’T. GIVE. UP.

Step up to the plate.

Can’t let it make us stop,

keep giving all we’ve got-

won’t be kept down,

held back, pushed around.

KEEP RISING TO THE TOP.

 

 

Beautiful Chaos

down the quiet roads, Spanish moss hanging, overflows,

the darkenss setting in like the folding of cloud upon sun

the street is empty, I am the only one

listen to the wind raise a fury over the earth and sky

such beautiful chaos, but if I describe it this way –

only others may misinterpret, what can words say-

sometimes they do not match my meaning;

and only seem to drift like paper aimlessly

missing every mark purposefully

caught in the grip of chaos – who sees besides me?

 

 

 

Of This I Am Sure

Knowing the trees have something to say,

beyond the scattering of mumbling leaves,

I am standing ready, for an earthly embrace,

sure of my birthing, from dust to dust.

Oh touch and heal, of numbness gone and heard

lay me down beneath the weight of heavy thunder

caress my skin with the pounding of rain, just storm

and let the tide pull me under and under.

I’ve got too many, the masks to hide

too much the scars, so ugly and worn

ease their way into humility, the proud soul denies it

until the wind is moving against the old wounds

and freedom there finds it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isn’t Love Possessive?

mouse step a way through the forest like

the sky isn’t glitter, pretend

it’s dark and no moon

light, none

so lost, get lost-er, so deep,

get deeper, too hurt,

it’s hurt-er

caught in the prickly vines, and

oh no, no one to rescue you, as if I’d let it,

let it happen, as if you weren’t precious,

my pretty little princess –

isn’t love possessive?

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