What does a word mean when it stands alone?

A voice within the silence comes alive;

It takes upon itself a shape and tone,

For its true sound we'll always try to strive.

A voice within the silence comes alive,

It strikes new thoughts within our world and minds;

For its true sound we'll always try to strive,

To forge ahead and never fall behind.

It strikes new thoughts within our world and minds;

Vocabulary stirs a basic need;

To forge ahead and never fall behind,

Not following, but taking up the lead.

Vocabulary stirs a basic need;

To speak among ourselves and understand;

Not following, but taking up the lead,

We work to find new words within our lands.

To speak among ourselves and understand,

It takes upon itself a shape and tone;

We work to find new words within our lands,

What does a word mean when it stands alone?

[Trying another pantoum today, a very structured form. Feedback on form and/or content welcomed.]

I drink it in,

Turpentine,

Draining the trees

As each volatile sip

Drowns every dream.

Red clouds and a rainbow to

the south of the city.

Sheet lightning to the east.

Light it up and let it fly. The sky

is spinning out its paint box tonight. 

Rice Age 

At Hime station only the elderly

 board the JR trains. 

Youth has abandoned the 

toil of the rice fields 

for the glitter 

of Tokyo streets. 

They ride the train into an autumn sunset 

comparing in whispers how much their hands resemble 

the gnarled branches of 

the passing cypress trees. 

Cradled in the hum of Sunday trains

 they dream in colors denied in waking hours 

by cataracts and glaucoma. 

Bright leaves continue to fall 

in memory. 

Only the red shift of August 6th 

still attaches itself to tired retinas. 

Why do you buy me flowers

you cut them while they bloom

and don up all the hours

to twist a ribbon's loom

I canceled all our tables

you set whilst at my wake

because you thought you had me

one dinner then you'd take

Why do you take me shopping

I know all of your wiles

you'd like to think my wantings

are clothes or shoes in piles

You'd like me to be normal

or written on the line

but darling I'm not normal

so don't you call me "MINE."

you will have friends

who are spectrums

hiding behind

a colorless mask

red will burst

from the seams

of black

and white,

impassioned frustration

caged by fear

and self doubt

you will have sisters

who write poetry

on landscapes

of soft skin

orange will bleed

from the wounds

of right

and wrong,

cautioned desire

for the dreams

of loving her

you will have brothers

who are knights

in search

of a prince

yellow will sing

from the hearts

of sir

and sire,

royal devotion

to the hope

of being kings

you will have daughters

who are sons

and sons

who are daughters

green will sprout

from the souls

of lost

and found,

verdant discovery

on the voyage

of finding truth

you will have friends

who are colorless

hiding behind

a spectrum mask

blue will leak

from the eyes

of pain

and loss,

tranquil misery

in the guise

of painted joy

you will have people

who are soldiers

marching upon

a colorful earth

purple will bind

each fighting breath

of change

and peace,

unified hearts

in the spectrum

of equal love.

bee sings so pleasantly around a buttercup

resting place a stop and a sup

a field of tiny suns swing to the beat

children making chains pick them up

smatter of yellow under a friends chin

and in lines the butter lovers gather up

petals square on four make a cross

rely on thin green line to hold them up

colours Buzz the air all mellow

a bee passing by backs that up