Can We Be Cool
You chose sweetness on your lips,
bitter silence to stir the spoon;
Seven veiled dance of the mimes.
On the green side of things,
seeds we sow
turn into weeds we have grown,
and the yellow sun still nurtures.
Bee stings, and we dance
to the flight of the bumble bee;
fate of the pseudo-patriotic
willing to self-destruct
is mere vanity and self-fishiness.
Oh sweet separation, I've had enough;
polarization 'twas once golden,
mused between thine lines.
Charge-shifting magnets,
a vacillating tango,
and I saved this one for you
Where does one go
once pushed to the edge?
Plummet or fly, it's
easier yet to step aside;
we are not ready to die.
Unfullfilled steps
burn in another's shoe,
moving on,
but who shall lead?
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