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[17 Oct 2016|08:30pm]

I was wondering how many stars would fall
    before the sky sync'd my heart;
    the dark would find my sleep;
    Before the balance of birth to death.

I wonder what words could fall in order
    to find one listen;
    let heart fall peace bye mye side together;
    To lay your bed you find your own.

Just say the word.
whisper your heart

so I may have some reason to be.
Pick a Petal

Daily Stress (Poem) [03 Apr 2014|06:32pm]


Trees and Daily Life

A lone tree on the horizon
      At the forefront of ta grey cloud saturated sky
             A lamppost at the forefront of that
                    Taller than the tree only because perception dictates

Both stand as monuments of stalwart perseverance through daily standard weather and wear
Overtime the lamppost will die a lifeless death

The tree will remain a symbol to take what the world gives
      And remain standing
      Even when rain and wind bedash its trunk
             It remains
                    Only to be toppled by man-made influence
                           Or calamitous nature patterns

Take the daily ordeals of life as a tree
Pick a Petal

Happyness and Trees (Poem) [02 Apr 2014|09:34pm]

Day #26-Learning From Trees

A tree
            Leaning like the Tower of Pisa
All visual data suggests instability
            But the roots are deep and strong
            There is still much life in its trunk
                        And limbs
                        And leaves
I like trees
Forever ambiverted
            Stoic and isolated
            Or in the fray of a forest
                        Intertwined with its brothers and sisters
They can be stoic and still at times
            Statues created by Mother Nature’s sculpting hand
                        Existing longer than the statues of man
                        Eating through rock
                                    And steel
                        Sustained by only a little water
                                    And a little sun
                                    Self sufficient

We can learn from trees how to be more life sustaining

Or they can be wild and free at other times
Resurging after a destructive fire
Or a destructive axe                 
            Becoming fuel for natures fires
                        And man’s fires

Wild to our imaginations
            The branches becoming nightmare hands in the dark of a black forest
Wild in growth
            No controlling influence telling it where
                        And how to grow

We can learn from the trees how to be more independent
            And less controlling

We can learn from trees
Pick a Petal

Words of Flame [10 Jan 2013|10:37pm]

Engulfing in flame
everything it touches;
when handled carelessly
and left unchanged,
slowly it crumbles
and spreads itself
before leaving its victim
quiet and vulnerbale;
in a broken state
Pick a Petal

[11 Sep 2012|03:26am]

You are something
You have to be here, now real and something
A phenomenon, you occur,
You are here everpresently
And you have to make your mark
Mark it up, mark it up, mark it up

And while you’re at it
Remember to treat people in such a way
That they learn to treat you
Like you made that mark today
And not so overbearing that
They wish they could just erase those marks
Build it up, build it up, build it up

Make it meaningful
Not hurtful
Make it worth note
Not infamy’s footnote

Jan – Aug 2012
Pick a Petal

Untitled 2012-B [11 Sep 2012|03:01am]

I tossed down a mirror and it shattered.
But unlike even my camera it still functioned perfectly
In turning back an image of me,
Of you,
Of even kings or slaves or of God
No battery failure or planned obsolescence there

I even tried harder to make it stop
I swirled pieces around
In circles on the ground
And it still functioned, though I did not fare as well
My fingers and palms were in shreds
Around the shards, for all my efforts, I bled.

Now I had to really try to undo this old technology
One with little special terminology
Repairing myself from my destructive urge
Gave me time to think of how to purge
This device of the image it held
Because what I do not like to see
Are reflections of me

Mirror, mirror around for ages
Distracting lovers, make fools of sages
What good are you to me
If I am to dispose of vanity?
For some can only see their flaws
Despite your presentation of natural laws

So I found I had to take it apart
Remove the pieces from it’s heart
Then I could look the mirror right in the center and not see me
But what to do with the pieces
I will give them to you and you and you
When you look upon them do you see me?
No, you see something I’d rather be

June-August 2012
Pick a Petal

To A Heart [30 Jul 2012|02:14pm]

What if after this life...?
You'd fall so in love with me?
When our eyes meet in time
Emerald pools deplete into my ocean blue
And the vintage record begins to skip
As we begin this dance again
I must confess
Hoping you who is so far away will notice me
I look up to the throne upon which you sit
So very high above me
Like Luna in the sky
You with your crown
Winds blow
My breathe escapes me
And I hear leaves rolling across like marching feet
A momentary distraction
An outstretched hand as if only to kiss
Where all my eviscerated feelings wish to reach you
Longingly, my absinthe fairy
With how love screams from my lungs and rains down like marbles falling from the skies
Of every color and every design
All around you
Where I will envelope you, consume you, devour you, and inspire you
I'd wish to kiss the orchid in which you withhold
And show you all wonders of love in this vast world
Caressing you in weeping kisses to carry you over the edge
So fade away with me into another time and another place
We will meet again my little lamb
You and that fleece of yours
Until then, sing me a song
Sing me to sleep
Where I can hope to dream of you and me.

(Feel free to follow me at my LJ, deviantART, tumblr, Twitter, Facebook)
Pick a Petal

The Me That Could Have Been [22 Jul 2012|10:41pm]


They call it the best thing
But the real thing that’s so elusive
I’ve lived a life wondering if there is such a thing
Sometimes the search makes me feel reclusive.

Like some bone that’s supposed to be part of everybody,
But it’s an element that is hard to see,
And I’ve come to believe there is no such thing
Because it is something I never seem to see in me.

I’ve seen some radiations about it from the screen
Yeah, some of those flicker-people from my TV
They just exude it – well it seems
Then I see many sheep-people flock
To those self-esteem idols that make the scene.

Now watch those heroes fall in lies
See them shame themselves, their wives,
Their kids, their whole damn lives…
Listen while I tell you that if you
Made your own mother, in interviews, lie
Then you had too much to hide
To have real self-esteem.

Well, that’s what most therapists say,
And I know because of all that’s tied up in it;
Sex, success, purchasing to excess,
Love, control, sharing, admiration staring.
Staring, staring at me? Doctor?  Doctor!
Why is it the one pill you don’t have in your repertoire
The one that will impart this personal essence?
I’d think you could find some self-esteem master,
But one who doesn't hoard it like a bastard,
And hook a needle up and refine what you find.
You’d have isolated that single factor
And distributing a single c.c. to everyone you see…
But you haven’t you see …
And for that only two reasons could be;

Either this is a non-such thing we talk about,
Or you, yourself, lack this “self-esteem”
And need to keep ’em coming in your times of doubt
So if the therapist can’t find it
Well then, maybe never mind it
There’s no such thing.

There is just no such thing,
And isn't that funny how this thing
For which some people praise and sing
Isn't real -- but two opposites are?
There’s the devastating lack of --
The other’s too much, too much to show love,
And any others those people push aside and shove.

So excess is false esteem,
And the lack is low esteem
Mr. Therapist says both make you come off mean
Both make it hard for love to come your way
Yet again, low esteem types flock the false kind’s way.
That’s another symptom, the doctor’s say.
So from these debates there’s no escape
And by the time the doctor’s done with his mind rape
See, then, where your self-esteem rates.

That is – were there such a thing.
So, we’re stuck with the lack and the glut
Without a recourse, a neither, nor a “but”,
And would our lives feel so stuck in our customary ruts
Were there really self-esteem?

June 10, 2012

Pick a Petal

A Top [07 Jul 2012|05:26pm]


I am unsettled; I spin

Like a top let loose on a corrugated terrain

With a distinct eye fixed at the far end of the wall

Holding a message for me; slyly asking,

“Will you let up once more?”

Air currents jab at my sides;

I pirouette on steepled feet; my footwork

Honed and worn smooth, like a trusty old chair.

My spinning neck

Feels the eye’s gaze, jabbing at me

Waiting on the far side, its lashes still moist

from our frenzied parting

and I turn and turn again, disconcerted, un-concerned, out of sync with all the world.

Pick a Petal

[15 May 2012|11:18pm]

dig this knowledge written with a stylus on a piece of papyrus
by an Egyptian god with the body of a man and the head of an ibis
who utilizes an iris strong as a cypress to ignite my glow
four timeless words, as above so below
this is bestowed to humanity as a gift from ra
so we can explore metaphor and learn more from the shit we saw
blessed by seraphim we studied life through holy comparison
at a time before the solstice got turned into christmas caroling
this american life to some seems so well, but to others a living hell
you can draw the parallel to any other civilization that ever existed
as they became more materialistic and less mystic, their thoughts drifted
right now we're in the time of the decline of the mind of mankind
and a shifting paradigm from the divine to having design
with technological oddities we live life like the jetsons
so wrapped up in finding the answer, we forgot the fuckin question
its a shame seeing brains trying to explain scientific claims
when they can't even explain why they came to the earthly plane
you need a cornerstone before you build a building
I wouldn't call this wisdom, but you could pass it on to all your children
I hope you listen because your world can change with one decision
the most important thing in life is living, not resisting
Pick a Petal

[15 May 2012|11:06pm]

days pass as water
trickling down some stony bottom
tendrils of mocking hope
unfurl revealing strands of silence
where once a chorus could be heard
and i stand watch
over my love lost
a striking sentinel of eternity
locked down and terrified of falling back down
into some wasteland named emptiness
i make my shaking speech to those who would listen
yet only understand the transparent parts
only the verbs and conjunctions but always miss the adjectives
i speak in manic phrases
i sound my barbaric yawp
across the rooftops of the world

yet no ones heeds that call
distorted reveries ensue
maybe i just discard all the ache
only focusing on the smiles
on the movement of truth
when we conveyed such sublimity
while outside the world spun a few seconds faster
its axis inched to the left  and it all became silent
for just a few moments
holding a silent vigil for us to catch anything like our breath
and now these broken record memories just act as some terrible reminder
some lofty rampart i cannot climb to immerse myself its in indulgence
my lies and detachment peer from all the cracks
biding their time to penetrate my truth
lying in wait to attack all stuck inside
that beleaguered fortress named honesty
but steadfast my watch becomes
hardened and stoic my eyes are
ready to strike down my thoughts as i move into some semblance of reality
twelve lights approach
carried on a balance beam of faith
and i find myself staring with adoration at the servants of the day
the harbingers of destiny, they carry eternity within their souls
dripping infinity from their eyes
their voices whisper across my heart
slicing skin and arteries with quick exact strokes
spilling my malignant blood
letting out the poison
exposing my scars for all to see
and i lay back and allow the pain to absolve all my sins
yet i feel incomplete, unholy and dead
for i cannot share this rebirth with the other half of my soul
for it remains away
watching with hate from a distance
unable to arouse from that deep sleep
this demon of the silences slips away into the night
her eternal task to wake the stars and paint the moon the color of life
and on i stand in bewilderment
aching for a word to speak
longing for adornment
that i might be shed in beautiful light
that i may bathe in the fountains of the world and become wholly clean
my wishes sent to the fallen echo back to me across my chasm
and i remember pictures of love like still life dreams
alive with every hue of the ancient sunset
Pick a Petal

URBAN PLANNING forgive me for it is long and unpleasant [07 Apr 2012|11:28am]


Waiting in my car
Lurching, lurching, lurching

Someone planned this place?
Did they plan for this jacked up pick-up truck
To be positioned just outside my open window
Opened because my AC is broke
Because I am broke
I’m broke but I scuttle about to make ends meet
Red goes green and the truck
Belches black and fills my space
In my car, it’s in my face.
This can’t be good for the baby.

There I go again
Of all the things to think at a time like this
Now it’s the two train crush
Downtown’s blocked in, so’s the way out
What baby wants to have this
Mommy can’t feed herself
About to lose them a place to dwell
Can’t get organized to not be late
Getting from work to the doctor’s
Still reeling from this happening in the first place.

Still flashing back to a night
Two months ago;
I’m still trying to remember the boy
Still trying to remember even being asked if this,
Any of it,
Was what I’d take on.

Well by the time I knew what all it entailed
What I’d now happen to have to carry
Other than just carrying a sweaty, bull-headed, word-using college-boy
Lurching, lurching, lurching
Situation, situation, situation

Yeah, I can’t have to deal with it
Eighteen more years ahead
Of still filtering that out of wishing
Wishing I’d had the strength to push him off

Sorry, baby, this can’t be
I’m not good for you now
It’s not good for you or me

In another life or other time
There might be some better signs,
And I’ll love you with a heart and life that’s full,
But today, this week, this year
This decision is what’s responsible,
And since that boy couldn’t bother with responsible
Someone’s got to step up and be responsible,
Like a parent.

Finally no trains, no lights,
No smoky diesel trucks to fight
Just a couple of appointments will set this right
We’ll try again someday to meet
We’ll be stars, you and I
That time
But for now there’s no amount of
Food stamp, therapy, single mom, welfare
That can make you a good home,
Compared to the one in your dreams;
That you deserve.
In front of the doctor’s office I take a moment to
And cry
And just try not to die.

I go within and we begin
And with screwed up courage
I read packets of wordage
Then stop, hold on, stay in control.

There’s a new form that they have to share with me
Something the state inserted, mandatory
What was my second visit has to be number two of three.
They have to show me what’s inside me.

Well fine, but I thought that bill had been defeated
Doctor admits the General Assembly sneakily had it repeated
For him this means something he has to do
That slows the abortion with something new.

Easy, that’s fine, we still have one month on trimester time,
Ultrasound today, come back, that’s fine.

So cold, naked, under crinkly paper gowns.
Still I think on how these roadblocks make for better towns
In a dim room with machines that faintly whir
And a technician pressing and pressing, looking for a stir
Can’t find a thing, just a minute dear
The tech steps out and leaves me with a minute of growing fear
And another
And another
It’s about to get very detached around here
It’s about to get very dissociated around here
I feel her plan lurching, lurching, lurching
That’s the start of the fear

The nurse and doctor step up to the plate
Examining the screen, take a moment, contemplate…
Just a different internal geometry,
Not a problem at any rate,
Just have to image with a different method.

Without another word and without any doubt,
And very like sweaty college-boy when he’s on and in and out.
The doctor attaches an internal probe the older model’s coming out
Though cold, plastic and institutional
A bit of gel will make up for it being nine-inches-long.
And the lurching, lurching, lurching
A deep breath of acceptance; this is how it happens
They put it in and do their thing like you’re not there
Because, you know, highway construction doesn't care.

Putting an object in there
In this state
Is illegal in any other way
And all along
She’s been a good girl,
But now it’s more accepting having no say.
Closing her eyes doesn't stop her hitting this roadblock,
Closing her eyes doesn't keep the confusion blocked,
Closing her eyes is no kind of cock-block.
Is it the doctor, the state, or her congressman

That just twisted it up for a better view?
The real concerning pains building; those are new.
This isn't sweaty college-boy,
And is the doctor really to blame
Even he’s been shoved by unseen forces into this game,
But here it is shoved up inside her all the same.
Now it’s inside her space, it’s in her face
Just like the burn of the shame.
This was supposed to be an abortion roadblock
But in no way was it sweaty’s cock-block
And now it’s like most other urban planning,
At best it’s ad hoc.
Will the state figure out it’s raping some hers before it’s too late?
Or will it happen for years before they sit back to take stock?

March 28, 2012   J. Scott Wilson   crossposting
1 Petal|Pick a Petal

Sweet White Wine [27 Nov 2011|02:53am]

[ mood | peaceful ]

Sweet White Wine
By Bethany Davis

sweet white wine
spilled from
the bottle
containing it
in the lamp light
where it sits pooled
around the opening
of that lovely bottle
i gaze upon
i lean down
open my lips
and lick away that wine
that natural wine
so sweet
so salty
from the flesh bottle
from which it came

Pick a Petal

In the Early Morning Light [27 Nov 2011|02:46am]

[ mood | peaceful ]

( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. )

1 Petal|Pick a Petal

Peppermint Bark [27 Nov 2011|02:30am]

[ mood | happy ]

Peppermint Bark
By Bethany Davis

A square, molded piece,
Perfect in dimensions,
Perfect in form.

White perfect chocolate,
Red specks of candy,
Pretty contrast.

A taste of chocolate,
A nibble, a bite,
Joy realized.

Soft creamy chocolate,
Crunchy candy bits,
Perfect Contrast.

Nibble by Nibble,
Bit by bit,
So fine.

The flavour remaining,
White chocolate,
Laced with mint.
Pick a Petal

Central Heating [25 Nov 2011|12:53am]

[ mood | horny ]

Central Heating
By Bethany Davis

Central heating
On a cold day
Such a pleasure
Such a joy
A chilly house
Bringing goose bumps
To my bare skin
And making my breasts hard
My nipples stand up
Cami and shorts
Not warm enough
For the chilly house
The water running
Warming for my shower
As I wait I get ready
My shorts fall
To the cold floor
My cami on top
My panties slide
Down my legs
To pile on the floor
I step to the corner
Legs spread over the vent
Closing my eyes to enjoy
I can't help but wonder
Does the house's central heating
Enjoy the view more
Or does my central heating
Enjoy its touch more?

Pick a Petal

Daily Grind [25 Nov 2011|12:18am]

[ mood | horny ]

( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. )

Pick a Petal

Eerie in the Half Light [07 Nov 2011|12:09pm]

[ mood | working ]

Eerie in the Half Light
By Bethany Davis

eerie in the half light
      light reflecting off snow
            bright shadow
         shadowy light
      the mist rolls
fills the streets
   making electic lights
       look like gas lights
          half glow
like a horror movie
   but peaceful
   the sound deadened
by the snow below
   and the mist above
   taking in the sound
consuming it
   and leaving only the silence
      as i walk beneath
            that black sky
             crystal clear
          full of stars
   at contrast with the
         and the light
   and the silence
in this wonderland
   this place between
      this liminal place
   of mist and snow and silence
the eerie glow
   of shrouded
      below a canopy
   of clarity

Pick a Petal

This Fake Banana [07 Nov 2011|11:52am]

[ mood | working ]

This Fake Banana
By Bethany Davis

Banana taffy,
Hard and smooth,
Like a banana cream pie,
But not as rich.

Banana milk,
So playful smooth,
Like liquid laughter,
Like dancing mirth.

The fruit's so different,
Not rich or smooth,
A different taste,
A different love.

This fake banana,
Makes me spin,
Dancing like a child,
So young, so free.
Pick a Petal

White Snow, and Red, Red Nails [07 Nov 2011|11:44am]

[ mood | working ]

White Snow, and Red, Red Nails
By Bethany Davis

White snow, and red, red nails,
Long, pale fingers, in freezing cold.
Wet and painful, cold's hard burn,
Summer's breeze is winter's storm.
What once cooled nicely, now is dread,
Cuts the bones and cools the blood.
Bow your head, before the cold,
Stinging needles, of ice and cold.
Quickly moving, against the cold,
Moving slowly for slick and snow.
Through an eternal, blinding walk,
At least the door, and then to warmth.
Pick a Petal

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