This
place,
An
aromatic coffee bean
Sincerely
birthed for those with personality and purpose
Or,
perhaps, no purpose at all
That
is why we’ve come here
To
‘The Greenhouse’
Looking
for something…
While
looking for anything
Prestige-
mask upon muddied mask
Ambition-
an unyielding reality
The
in-house subtly painted with deep mustard yellow
Look
up,
A
tragically opaque blue mops the ceiling with eclectic taste
This
is where the purity of Self
Will
slither between mosaics and Picasso-esque paintings
EYES,
EARS, LIPS, SOULS!
Open
up! She’s knocking…
Lust
will spill out
Pouring
profusely into this vacant air
Grasping
for the one individual willing to take hold
Willing
to become a wanderer,
In
an avid world of writer-itis
Stricken
with beauty, montage, and grief
Her
name is Poetry
Awe,
to live and write in a world full of authors.
Will
they become lifeless, or- like a fine wine- get better with age?
SLAM!
Let
the concert begin!
Words
slash the air in fleeting syllables
A
tirade of lingua spewing to and fro
Here
we are ladies and gentleman,
Embedded
in the heart of passion.
LISTEN!
She
speaks…
I
call Her,
‘The
Greenhouse Effect’.
