Alexis Martin
Alexis Martin
Jul 15, 2012

I want to sit in the soil
until my veins transform into roots
and reach through the Earth
clinging to nutrients
thriving
slowly my skin becomes petals
opening with the rise of each new day
basking in the glow of the sun
infinite

I want to sit in a jar
that you placed on your bedside table
on a warm summer afternoon
reminding you that I am forever yours
captured
but as I slowly wilt and wither away
and you begin to lose interest in me
you will find a new love to call home
replaced

zowie conway
zowie conway
Oct 23, 2013      Oct 24, 2013

Resistance is a weed stunting the possibilities of us, our nature,
and the sun that resides in us all.
When we let go
we always move forwards.
And when we hurt we grow,
we heighten,
to a place that isn't initially seen,
as holding on doesn't want to recognise
you're no longer there.
The illusion of resistance crumbles
when we empty our hands,
when our hearts tell our minds
Just let go,
here we regain the power of trust,
of faith,
and the wild playground of our lives
prove joyful again.
To extend out with all we have
knowing this reach has reversed equally.
Dropping the weight like a stone
surrendering in the sea of life,
expanding further still as we sink,
knowing that holding on to that
which resists so much
is not ours to be held,
we are not to remain stunted
in a state of tug of war.
life around us says so,
we are to learn and beautify
as we rise,
as we fall
We mustn't resist.
And so we are,
so we shall be
free.

"Photosynthesis"
Shandel Pruitt
Sep 12, 2009

look at me
i'm growing
& blooming
my mind is
expansive
encompassing
the light
the dark
converting them
to energy
to fuel
my dreams
through
a process
called
"Photosynthesis"

D Lep
D Lep
Feb 27, 2012

Restless, restless
Exhaling a thousand sighs.
My wasted breath
this rotting fruit.
The seeds won't germinate
and I won't sleep.
Have the vines
choke 'til slumber.

Klara L
Klara L
Mar 12

I felt the leaves
on my tree
grow stronger
in your light
you should've warned me
that I shouldn't become
dependent of you
you should've warned me
that lights go out.

the titles are the only part of my poetry that I actually like ugh

Despite his shields,
He lost his heart to sunshine
No sunblock ever made could block the rays
That warmed his body,
penetrated his soul

See the thing is
This was fated for him from the beginning
For how could a boy who lived his life in a cave
with nothing but cheap, artificial light
not fall in love with the sun?

Seduced by its heat,
consumed by its light
He wondered if the sun knew of his passion
He wished he could tell it
But he hadn’t yet learned the language of stars

He knew he could never go back
To a world without sunshine

He would stand, strong and stubborn
In the face of any storm
Through hail pelting his bare body
Staring down lightning without a wince
And winters that freeze his bones

Awaiting the return of sunshine
To peel back his skin and warm his heart once more

Just a boy of the dirt in love with the sun
And my God, he would fight for it.

For the girl who brings sunshine
#love   #truth   #sunshine  
Michael
Michael
Feb 17      Feb 17

I am an idle garden, and you are my gardener —clearing out all of my long dead, overgrown worries, making room for neglected words; everblooms shrouded beneath the tangled debris of fear. Your dedication and diligence has smoothed me out with gentle hands and has planted new hopes in a still-budding imagination; sharing all that you are so that one day I could hopefully, in some way, give back to you all the beautiful parts of you that have grown in me.

Alejandro Medellin
Alejandro Medellin
Aug 13, 2013      Aug 13, 2013

Though not many birds,
still perch up on my branches,
I miss them more,
as the years turn into dust.
I miss the flock,
resting on my limbs,
tweeting at each other.
Rabid in their lust,
quiet in their departure.
It has been too many years,
since these leaves,
have been of any use.
Since i have been,
of any importance.
In the summers,
I was shade.
And those little kids,
would play tag.
When they got older,
they would read.
In the spring,
i was a treasure.
As I laid fruits upon their feet.
When they got older,
they would make mysterious drinks.
In the winter I was warmth.
They would hack me off,
and build a fire to tell stories.
When they got older,
they installed a furnace.
In the fall I was beauty,
if only for a moment,
as my tips turned into gold,
or a gorgeous shade of red.
Then I was naked.
When they got older,
they never admired my beauty.
For many decades,
I endured it all.
I was there when they were born,
I was there when they all left.
Or died or went to jail.
I used to be strong,
and absorb these frigid winds.
Which now threaten my boughs.
When i was a sapling,
i would hear,
“This one will be big.”
And i believed it too.
To have so much potential,
but never really amount to much.
I had the makings of a prodigy,
the tallest, strongest tree around,
but I failed myself.
Let alone those who,
believed in me as well.
I had it all not long ago,
but even trees get sad,
if there is no one,
to use us as we were meant.
What am i,
if not the past.
There is a future,
but im not sure,
I will survive.
They will say I died of frost.
but its been too long,
since ive heard a pretty song.
Or had laughs around my bark,
celebrations under my shade.
A simple admiration,
of my natural magnificence.
I will be another stump
on this cold earth.
But before i fall,
I would like to ask.
If a tree fell,
and no one heard it,
Did it serve a purpose?
Or a reason.
I will not live another season.

MS Lynch
MS Lynch
Jun 20, 2013

Sweetheart silent killer manifests all inside my mind,
The moon’s a magnifying glass as it rises in the sky.
At 2 a.m. it giggles, a thick knife in its teeth,
And drops it down into my head as I lie underneath.
The glass I keep so carefully to remain erect in the day,
Shatters and releases a burning, breathing self-assay.
A kaleidoscope catoptric, all frets out in the free,
A band of thought-filled thieves invade to steal my sleep from me.
Tossing and turning beneath the stars, I’ll wait til I burn out,
At night my brain is flooding and in daylight there’s a drought.
Lullaby myself with tears, wake up way too late,
Stuck as an insomniac, suicide’s sweet bait.
I wish I was an autumn leaf, I’d float into the sky,
And every fall I’d have the opportunity to die.
I don’t want to die, I just want to dream,
Instead of replaying my sick realities that make me want to scream.
But this will still all stay the same as my brain and blood run white,
I’ll feed myself with Satan’s sugar, the depressed primrose of the night.

Second Wish A Photosynthesis Erogenous Zone
martin murray

I Got Three Mintages In My Pocket
The Queens Head Embedded On Each Jack
Each Coin Has Got My Back
Throw Them In The Wishing Well
And Get My Life Back
First Wish For An Afro Jet Black
Let My Afro Grow Styled To Flat Top
Second Wish A Photosynthesis Erogenous Zone
Always A Favourite Garden To Relax Alone
Third Wish To Be In The Sun’s Harmony
On The Beach Reminiscing With Family

 
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