bananas

Bananas

Likes the breeze

Listening to indimusic and acoustic

Travel

Bananas

It raises her up,

On  a cool Autumn day,

Down by the beach,

She floats,

Her jacket lifting behind her,

Tailing, playing

Drifting,

Her face touching,

Kissing it gently,

Tasting its sweet coolness,

Following it,

Left or right,

Her eyes light up,

Feeling its sensation,

She lies back,

Letting it carry her away.

She’s like Nirvana,

And smells like teen spirit,

She doesn’t know,

What to confess,

All she knows is how to say Hello,

With her head banging,

Her hair flying,

She’s in the mosh pit,

Her body out of control,

Her hands,

Waving in the air,

Like she just don’t care,

Her delight,

Her pretty face,

Is a beacon,

Of hope,

Not warning,

The passing ships,

But enticing them home,

She’s like Titanium,

She’s bulletproof,

Not falling,

Even, after she’s been shot down,

She can’t hear a word you say,

Your bullets ricochet off her,

She’s strong,

Like an Napoleon ,

Directing his troops,

She’s unique,

Like that needle in the haystack,

Her choices,

Her tastes,

Maybe common,

And universal,

Yet she is as far,

As the moon to the sun,

And the sun to the stars,

From being anything ,

Like a common,

Or universal girl.

Standing still,

Isn’t something she was designed for

God, gave her two legs,

And two feet,

And ten toes,

To stand and walk,

To feel the cool water on her feet,

To stretch out wide,

With the pebbles under her soles,

God gave her two arms,

Two hands,

Four fingers,

And two thumbs,

To pick up,

And to investigate,

Things that are small and wide,

Or long and short,

God gave her two eyes,

To see,

To look

To take in all the beauty

Of his land,

The mountains,

And the rivers,

The white clouds on the horizons,

And those city streets,

God gave her two ears,

To hear the waves roll in

Against the beach,

To hear that rooster crowing at dawn,

To hear those cars,

Reminding her to look both ways,

Before she crosses the street,

God gave her a brain,

To mix and combine,

In its giant blending bowl together,

All these ingredients,

That she has been given,

Making a recipie

So she can see,

What his world is about,

The living and the dead,

The moving, and the stoic,

He gave her a choice,

What she can make

Out of all this,

Should she stay,

Or should she go?

The mixtures in the oven,

Baking,

And she’s happy

With the product she’s got.