pineapple

so many eyes...
does she see the truth, or does she lie?
can't find unless you try.
so many...
prickle prickle prick,
tension in the air so thick.
impenetrable to the words of
disaster and death.
who knew she could
be so
sweet and tempting and juicy
like life's gossip,
oozing rumor and drama out of
every
last

drop?

how is she
so tough,
so delicious
like a summer sun
bejeweled in
the moment:
tropical breeze
swaying the hammock, lazy?
so many eyes.
she kills when she smiles.
how do you do that?

sweet to the eye,
sweet to the soul,
sweet to the tooth,
sweet to the core.

how are you so tough?

'my mother.'

you are so perfect.

orange

bright and bold and big and juicy,
married mistress of the sun.
a love affair she does have, you see --
with the neighboring citrus' son.
stars above and light below:
silver sheening silently.
illuminated by moon's glow
not one sound as to violently
disrupt the fragile sheet of time.
she blossomed as a flower white.
drawn in by the aura of that one lime
seduced the green with all her might.
the orange, bright and bold and brassy,
bore her soul for all to see.
'his eyes are mine or fall down does he,'
cursed the orange gleefully.
the lime, transfixed, with all his power
stood up still and stared, intense.
and in that one ungodly hour
felt emotion so immense.
'i love her blind,' the lime had spoke,
her upper hand to strike the fear.
'i love her true, that is no joke,'
and with her madness she did adhere.
a few days, gone, transformed entirely
into Temptress, smoldering hot.
the lime could only gape and smile,
knowing of her marriage he did not.
a smile, a tear, a wave, a kiss.
the lime turned ripe for orange's lips.
and in her soul, a dark abyss:
not one kind soul in all her tips.
then, sunrise of the fifteenth day
brought on a maddening, blistering heat.
the sun had seen what mischief lay:
disloyalty, his heart skipping a beat.
'with all my heart and all my soul
did trust with you i fully did!'
the orange smiled, her eyes like coal.
'my love for you, i merely hid
behind a curtain of despair.'
the sun turned white-hot in contempt.
'burn us both with driest air
you will,' she said as an attempt
to save her life, and solely hers.
the lime was only a simple toy.
the sun did smite without a curse:
the lime had fallen, without joy.
to doom and darkness, he had tumbled
driven mad by heat and pain.
hiding truth and motives jumbled,
trick the sun, she did, again.
'the mistress of the sun will shine
for all eternity until
grapes could no longer produce wine.'
the sun would smile. and hold his still.

the orange did deceive the lime
but how will you fare in your time?
the orange cheated yet survived --
and more than once she had imbibed
the drink of gods, the sun's great kiss.
something sure was here amiss.
the orange smiles and lives on so.
will you, our lime, to all depths go?

apple

the apple laughed a sweet
laugh when she did meet
this one surely polite
(he claims he doesn't bite)
creature by the branch
that she was by. 'can't
see yourself in pictures, eh?'
she said to mr. worm. 'they
just don't seem to want to hear
the whole story,' he said. 'dear
worm,' the apple said. 'i like you.'
he blushed and hugged and blew
the apple a kiss. 'you,' he said,
'you, i adore,' and fed
the apple much to her heart's content.
the night to come was much different.

'lalala' the apple sang, waiting for
the worm to swing by and tell her
how beautiful she really was
and how ripe and juicy she does
make him feel. wait and wait she
did, but nothing came. a simple bee
buzzed by, but all he said was 'hello.'
the apple cried and screamed high and low
until she felt her insides rip
apart like melting wax, making her tip
to a side of the branch she had
never been on. she choked so bad
and could do nothing but accept
her untimely fate: she fell, and she kept
falling to the ground, a prospect of new
life in exchange for sweet death. to
the ground, splat, roll, maneuvering with ease
and grace. once on the floor, her soul released
itself from the juicy mess that was life and
redemption. from her profile, a single bend
on her elegant twig. and next to it,
a violation of her most private being: lit
by the sheen of the setting sun
a hole in her side, penetrated, open, left to rot and run
under the glow of nighttime. and out of the corner
of her eye, movement -- running for the border
was the culprit! and none other than the most
intimate of beings was her violator: the worm, post-
haste, savoring in the moment, relishing in the glory
that was taking the apple's innocence. surely
it was a mistake, a hapless incident, but in all
truth, it was the worm, smirking. appalled,
she dug herself deep into the ground, weeping.
the rape of the apple had led to her death, keeping
the balance of nature's goodness in the right.
she wept until she saw light.

faded photograph

sifting through the contents of my stuffy attic room
searching through the boxes that this dust has but consumed
come across some treasures i was sure i'd never see
showing me the life back then of how it used to be:
simple and amusing as a dandelion head
not remembering any mumbled words i ever said
running through the park midday, and losing all my breath
oldness often brings too swift the blow, and childhood's death.
friends that share a lifetime of the fondest memories
set on ink and paper, and a picture by the sea.
black and white, the picture is, on dull sepia glow
'friends forever,' both had said, 'still, when the times are low.'
back i look, and now i find myself near choked with tears
wishing that i had once more the glory of those years.
wonder is the only thing that i can do sometimes --
think of silly things to write and write poetic rhymes.
when i look back at those faces on that portrait blurred
memories come flooding back, my body whole is slightly stirred.
once i see a friendship of the greatest magnitude
now i am left with guilt and sorrow of such amplitude.
reading through your letters i can only sigh and mope
future might seem bleak, but our realtion still has hope
flash and 1, 2, 3 did follow our perfected smiles
all we're left with is the anguish and between us, many miles.
ask of you i do this simple, yet, important wish:
hold my hand, and take me there, and we shall go to bliss.
on the faded photograph, 'i'll see you soon enough'
never did i understand your sweet and sorry gruff.
realizing that i've spent much time remembering the good
rushed and stowed the contents of the past misunderstood.
took away the picture of the pair, of you and me
closed the attic door and hid away the golden key.

gray and brown, the picture stood, alone against the wall.
never did forget to catch me when i had to fall.

all is lost and now forgot, the picture in the wind.
forgive me once, you never did, when i did to you sin.