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Poems - Wild Thyme

Wild Thyme

by bfaulkner

complacency,Wild Thyme
Oh purple bud of truth,
why does the world spout disillusion like acid
rain, down on me?

“Drink up, little girl. Here’s a healthy helping of hurt.
Give my regards to your mother. Salud.”

That’s what the little people say to me.
Who said faeries were kind?
Following them, I imagine
perfection in a brokedown world
where Chinese girl babies lie dead on streets
& America sits quietly by—
people sit quietly by.

Thank you, purple flower,
Now I know my insignificance.
Happiness breads contentment.
Contentment breeds…
breeds the pacified blind, pleased with existence
within their own 4 walls & their multi-channeled window to the world.
One click—
slapstick injustice away.
Pretty soon, lots of people are happy
& have no care for those who aren’t.

No one deserves the nectar.
It’s time to fight.
Happiness comes later,
looking back on a long life of struggle.
Then, peace.

One more purple flower
blowing in the wind.

07-02-2001 Boone, NC

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