Oiseaux, les abeilles, et des papillons
Abordent les fleurs
Violet, rouge, jaune, et de plus
Et il est difficile de dire
Qui est d’avoir le plus de plaisir
Oiseaux, abeilles, papillons, fleurs
Ailes, pieds, becs, piqûre
Pistils, pétales, ovaires
En français ou en anglais
C’est la langue du printemps
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
Walking though the church graveyard
on the busy corner of Central Ave. and Main,
I wonder do the dead hear
footsteps on their ceiling,
does the ground admit the crisp air
of an underdeveloped spring,
do souls obey
the laws of traffic.
Photo by A. D. Joyce
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
open ended thoughts
reach beyond
the imaginable
outer space
light upon light
interrupted by
infinite dark
holding hands with
worlds and worlds
inside the self
divide upon divide
broken down
to the infinitesimal
until nothing
is infinitely pure
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
If Mars formed life, then life on Earth could have been seeded by life on Mars, making every life form on Earth descended from Martians. – Neil Degrasse Tyson
oxygen is all the rage on earth
that is
if you want to live
but on mars
breathing is not as popular
at least not with oxygen
while you’re here on earth though
stay in with the in crowd
breathe the ever loving air
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/n/neil_degrasse_tyson.html#6mAKFQ0xkT3IGgJF.99
it is the height of summer
in a residential neighborhood
the sun is a bare spotlight
on me age seven
standing on the front porch stage right
while people carry boxes
from my house to the truck
the little boy who comes over to play
asks where are you going
i say that we are moving
and i know my answer is a tangent
but it is the best i can muster
i start to say that daddy is not coming with us
but i am pulled by the hand
to exit in a daze stage left
the neighborhood is watching
and as i get into the car
i wonder if i will ever see
the little boy again
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
the rays of sunlight
blink on and off in the wind
a lake’s reflection
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
i dip my pen into my liquid core
hoping to find the words
only to find myself drawn even deeper
to the love you leave for me
hot as gravity
i am your molten remains
you the depth of my earth
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
When I was a girl,
most of the butterflies
I saw around here
were small and plain.
Sometimes I would
cup them mid flight
between my two hands
just to feel their wings
tickling my palms.
I pinched a wing once
with my thumb and pointer
and the powder from it
was left on my fingertips.
I used to bottle ants
and fireflies and grasshoppers
in glass jars but somehow
I never thought a butterfly
was for keeps.
I rarely see them these days
in my brick-walled
concrete-and-steel life,
where the shrubbery
is flowerless and trimmed.
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
I.
Did I ask for this,
this cold air, this profane
stark light? “Electricity”
they’ll teach me one day
but what they don’t say I’ll have to
pay with blood to learn when
all I want is to be myself.
II.
Are those my eyes,
fixed on the final twist of
unbecoming, the light they reflect dull
and opaque? Will they ever find
who profaned me? Is that
my blood on the floor? I don’t
remember. Some will say I asked
for this but I didn’t.
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
Science is basically an inoculation against charlatans. – Neil Degrasse Tyson
Science
uses what we know
to understand the unseen,
as in blood signifies
the covered wound
and tears imply
the soft core
of a hardened heart.
Breath is the soul’s body.
Silence betrays the secret.
The reality of time
is disproved by sleep,
while dreams inform reality.
Many things masquerade as love
but love is a prime
that has no substitute.
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
A. D. Joyce 