Stop it
“Can I have another?”
No
“Can I?”
No
“I’d like another”
Granted

seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Singapore

seen from Malaysia

seen from South Africa
seen from China

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from South Korea

seen from Germany

seen from United Kingdom
seen from China

seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Thailand
seen from United Kingdom
Stop it
“Can I have another?”
No
“Can I?”
No
“I’d like another”
Granted
diminution
when the mountain was small it wasn’t a volcano ash and soot trees lined it the rain gently touched its slopes lava flowed birds chirped and celebrated over head leaves sprouted then it blocked out the sun with its enormity fields of wild flowers stones hurled with tyrannic force judgeless at once oceans boiled it was only a small hill they looked over their shoulders and would never know
Sojourner
the bee sees the flower the way he sees her flowing soft color silk strong and beautiful (she knows)
the flower sees the bee the way she sees him strong and colorful his wings cool her his legs powerful but gentle, and soft to touch
(but he’s not ready)
she feels smooth, and strong under his wings her pollen is pure and ready she yields it to him she gives him everything
(not really)
he takes it with him she lets him rest on her petals he lightens her and lifts her she closes (he doesn’t realize she never opened)
and the next day the bee goes to find her happy after his work is done the flower waits with new pollen for him every day, and for all eternity
(why don’t men ever really get it)
Leaves
This is what it’s like when a tree sheds its leaves
And the ground underneath yearns for them
Silently waiting
Inviting them to drink morning dew
Waiting for the singularity
When the tree sleeps and drops one hair
One drifting downward floating
Fluttering
Sideways and upside down
That one landed in the grass
Stupid grass
This one on a flower
Lucky
The tree shakes its head
They're only leaves
- cebridges
Two Words
I saw the man standing utterly still It was the most terrifying thing. ever Was this real Could he hear us Did he see options And as we watched, the propeller slowed to make a lighter chopping sound Its wind felt crisp and fresh on our faces On his face Beguiling he and us of the severity of his situation Wind cool and crisp with the wetness of the rain-soaked asphalt Sun dull and muted, allowing silvery light to rain down all around us We all drew silent I went silent, all throughout The man walked closer to the blades He stopped and turned his face toward us, for moments, and looked at each of us in the eyes Each of us And the pain that overcame us translated this differently At first it was a narrative for horror and sadness, of grief and rage Now it was transmuted And we understood The pain of a thousand losses, and the knowledge of no more beginnings In all of his more than 60 years With all of his wisdom carved into his deeply lined face, like record grooves playing a history of torturous pain We all felt it And our hands unclenched And our jaws relaxed And our eyes changed from saucers to pools of tears Chop chop chop went the blade Quietly as if it was shushing the air around it to a reverent silence Chop chop chop Filling our nostrils and his with the richness of fresh bread from the patisserie behind us And with the melodic fragrances of ladies’ perfumes Women gasping near me without daring to move Chop chop chop The man then said two words to us, before turning forward again “Lean in” - cebridges
there
I see his photo with a girlfriend in his 49 years and I see the love and peace and turmoil and deep dark charcoal pain in those eyes right there is all the suffering it took to get to that moment captured bliss in a second I love all of what he is and all of what I see rising just below the surface and I love all of what we all are overcoming what we do everyday what we have been since the day we fought for breath thinking it’s unnoticed thinking “I’m just being me” being a human being living amongst each other and holding each other when we’re down or up or sideways or dying finding a thing to say living and seeing life around us as we move to some unknown thing striving moving ourselves and our lives and our people forward and I reach back finding all sorts of love that I always felt even in the fifth grade when blue eyes and blonde hair meet me with a smile when church bells rang and sermons boomed loud when my stomach hurt for worry and I hung on to the finding of love but not in the people I new then, and who wanted to know forever as a child forever is your next birthday as an adult in the autumn years forever is death and and eternity of unknowns and the past is a rapid fire stream of memories shooting from behind us like laser beams like light itself while you feel the same as you did at 14 and we’re reminded that we always loved and we always feared or hated or had sadness or pain and with it, loving hands were there from someone, from somewhere and are there and can be there for the asking
- cebridges
cebridges
cebridges