And I guess
we’re all
edible,
letting ourselves be
(or yet being able to stop from being)
devoured by our
expectations,
environment,
and
egos,
being swallowed whole
by the earth
and its many woes.
May our minds flourish with creation, and may our hands never deny its expression.
And I guess
we’re all
edible,
letting ourselves be
(or yet being able to stop from being)
devoured by our
expectations,
environment,
and
egos,
being swallowed whole
by the earth
and its many woes.
There’s a unique
currency
at the oceanfront,
offered by the generous waves,
eagerly scooped up by
children
and lovers,
a rich, extravagant gift
of sandy
fortune.
The ocean
beats with
unwavering equality,
washing the sand
from our feet
all the same.
“I would do
everything for you”
sounds romantic
until someone
asks you
to do it.
We all carry hearts
that want to
resist
rebel
riot —
let our rebellion
be against inequality,
disrupting a system
that never saw
our defiant hearts
coming
for it.
my chest echoes
with the cries of my monster,
devoting anything that’s not you,
to a psychopath’s slaughter;
the monster in me
has a single-point view:
the only thing it wants
is the monster in you.
-L.M.G.
How can all of our hearts
drum the same, ironic beat:
i’m misunderstood
i’m misunderstood
i’m misunderstood
-L.M.G.
When you’re
seeking something
to be grateful for,
look upon the sunset
and recall
how wonderful it is
that creation wasn’t formed
in only black and white.
I can scarcely
write poetry
when I’m with you
because
I’m far too overswept
by the way it feels
-LMG
Thunderstorms
and hurricanes
deceive us
when they change course,
letting us believe
that disaster can
weave around us,
when death is a tempest
that will not miss.