Ox-eye Daisy

After plucking and eating an ox-eye daisy’s pure white petals one by one, her bright yellow central disk stood firm daring me to eat her too. So I did. This simple act of devouring, flooded my eyes with a million past meadows filled with generations of ox-eyed daisies, deer, buck, butterfly, buffalo, dawns, dusks, wooly mammoths. 

Out of my right eye a single tear, a sacrifice to the sun, out of my left a rivulet that became a creek, that became a stream, that became a river, that became a lake that fed a meadow, that fed a fallen seed, that sprouted.

B.F.M.

Show You the Door

If I show you a door, do I need to supply dialog? Would it be the same as a window looking out into gray harsh misted field where buffalo once roamed in rooms as large as dinosaur skulls? There is a Neanderthal boy in the field, running, playing or fleeing it hasn't changed. All these, are things of a changing order taking millions of years during which a trillion-billion-million snow flakes will fall, then you will be born. Broken. Healed. Broken. Chased across a field of dandelions. Loved. Madness bouts. Loss. Then you or I will be eaten by a yet to be named virus that causes someone to dream a reality that makes you believe you are the beginnings of a sun.

B.F.M.

Cheers

Pedaling, pedaling

up a steeple grade, 

a crowd of lupine 

waves me on. 

Churning, churning 

against the wind, 

while a mustard field 

cheers "go-go-go."

B.F.M.

Desert Poppy

Click on image for a larger view.

Desert Poppy
16" x 20"
2012
Digital prints available.

Artist: B.F.M.

So many wildflowers in the Sonoran Desert. The monsoon season brings them out; it's a lovely surprise for the uninitiated here in the Tucson area. Enjoy.

Remember what your mother said: share.