Pollen People

People pressing onward from spring into December

Passing, passing, passengers pass by going nowhere

Creatures carried cross the crescent winds of North America

Pollen passing, passing from Sahara to Siberia

Presently the peasants make pretensions of the rain

Princes play, pretending that the peasants plot the reign

Showers sow our shelter so severely shall we guard

Places passing, passing into memory and word

Pleasant possibilities presented passionately in March

Placated past debate into November placed in starch

She somberly succumbs to something sad to be believed

She’s passing, passing, passing by like pretty Autumn leaves


Non-linear Thoughts

Gratitude is payment, Payment is a vice

Everyone has vices, Making us feel nice

Feelings always change, Rolling of the dice

Sometimes more than God, Sometimes less than lice

Fiery the passions, Numbness cold as ice

Causes have re-actions, Actions have a price

Prideful as a lion, Modest as the mice

Thoughts are sometimes broad, Sometimes they’re precise

Not always enough, Though they may suffice

They can hold you back, And they can entice

Minds are so complex, Not just a device

Home of our perceptions, Matter with a spice