~~~I’ve been dreaming about this concept for far too long that it’s about to enter over-worked poetry death. So tonight I am turning off everything but taylor mcferring and Gitin R Done. No matter what. Send all typo and grammar corrections to firstname.lastname@example.org jk. leave a comment if you must.~~~~
For those who’ve been pricked by the delicate claws of a flowering cadenza, of whose petals bloom to a crowd of cheers, while the rest of us are trampled and uprooted, I introduce:
Gnarly weeds, the incomparable, daring beasts, shining brightly and feasting on lesser greens. They are the spooky ones with sticky, thick tendrils redefining what beauty means beyond roses that wilt and wither. Leaves full of shine, with peaks and arches pointing out in the warmest of ugly, tongue-out, puppy cuddles.
These are smiling weeds, like the straw ones that shoot up and create a mess of maze to fall in and crawl through as if we were still children, gently attach themselves to our bodies/clothing, knowing that we need them… even though we pretend we don’t. They are the flowing ones that breath together as the earths spirit moves through them. Clever as darling ones are they always let pieces of themselves go to be born again in new places. This is the type of beauty that never fades. This is the type of love that wins over all types of evil.
And their queen: the magical reincarnating Dandelion which bursts out at the sky and innocently flashes her canary dress. When all of us have moved on to chase a little bit of crimson, her dress transforms into a choir of dainty angels that carry our wishes on the wind and whisper them to the universe. She pulls us back with her newfound beauty as ger crown begets a crown that begets the warmth of children and teaches us that we are all the finest fairies dancing with blissful imperfection.
BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE.
Our friendly “foreign beings” are not just a special kind of pretty. They are healers, like the dubious dope of maid maryjane. They are shrub and vine that crawl and climb like no other. Their magic, often lost on earth skimmers that float above the dirt, lay in their ability to be brazenly conspicuous. Greenery of this breeding doesn’t softly sing, they bellow vociferously and laugh at themselves whole-heartedly, vulnerable yet formidable
Speaking of form, each gnarly gnub brushes their teeth with muscle milk and walks barefoot on concrete. Their parental units become the foundation in any cruddy crack and join together for communal self-cultivation.
Basically, they were hardy before the boys knew their name. They can pull out of twigs to catch the sunlight and jump over fences to taste the finest waters of the earth even when they are being spared for the precious petals of cliche love.
All of this, pumps vivacity through our gnarly weed hearts, gives us bright eyes, and teaches us a new language of love and war. This is the mysterioso that toys with our rebellious veins, shouting “RESIST” in the most seductive fashion. I see them, invading the fascist corporate sidewalks and greenways, resurgent warriors speaking their gnarly weed manifesto,
“You can chop our heads off. You can uproot our homes. You can spray toxins in our lungs and tell the world that we are undesirable. We’ll still be here. We’ll still grow. You can’t be rid of all of us.”