Apple

ripens wondrously

at the perfect rate

to realize its

myriad potentials

sweet or tart

red, green, or yellow

reaching maturity

embraced by sun and air

only to be plucked

from its lofty cradle

protective seal pealed away

cool juices drained

golden meat consumed

until only the core remains

the apple’s essence

born from a season

of growth

then decay

sweet quintessence

tart stimulation

crafted over time

the apple 

generously gifts seeds

for a budding tomorrow

© William Vollrath

Apples
Illustration from Luther Burbank's
Half-hour Experiments with Plants (1922)
Library of Congress
Photo from Wikimedia Commons

Please Go Away

I don’t like you…

stain in the rug

 squeak in the chair

 spider in the cupboard

 lump in the bed

 This isn’t your home…

 ache in my heart

 noise in my song

 anger in my day

 hole in my soul

 I’ll count to ten….

 Then please go away.

    © Bill Vollrath, 2015

Child counting to ten
Drawing from Wikimedia Commons

First Breath

At the Bang

there is breath

a singular point

God willed into being

inhales into consciousness

cosmic vibrations now manifest

nature's cycles unfold

At the moment of creation

the universe awakens

darkness recedes

across space and time

evolutionary forces unleashed

life exhales deeply

and exits silence's fertile door

© Bill Vollrath, 2014

The Phillip Medhurst Picture Torah 3. Creation. Genesis cap 1 v 10
from Wikimedia Commons

My Third Eye Is Blurry

Maybe it's a speck

of galactic dust

partially lodged

in the corner of my eye

or a seasonal allergy

from recurrent 

metaphysical storms

Possibly eye strain

from poor illumination

of a fading distant star

or damage to my hallowed retina

from gazing too long

at powerful suns afar

Can I blame diminished vision

on “End of Days”

foreseen long ago

by prescient Mayan priests

or is it just macular degeneration

from advancing old age

All seem rather likely

but if truth be told

a cosmic cataract

is blinding more each day

as golden Earth moments

inevitably slip away 

© Bill Vollrath, 2014

Mural num muro de tijolo em Aveiro

"Watching tv is like taking black spray paint to your third eye" ~ Bill Hicks

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Pieces of My Soul

carelessly strewn about

life’s sticky kitchen floor

unwanted

unrecognizable

moments of distant glory

forgotten triumphs

hollow victories

paragraphs and chapters

of once-read pulp fiction

mismatched socks and dirty underwear

not very neatly folded away

into endless bottom drawers

haunting relics 

stacked in barely lit crawl spaces

and cobwebby corners of the psyche

refuse of the soul

shattered and scattered

pieces of then

nervously awaiting

some gentle caretaker’s

healing broom

© Bill Vollrath, 2013

Pulp fiction cover
from Wikimedia commons