indigo-blush - Hello Poetry

released gently like a bud through the sepals moments after it pierces the air, the silence is shattered. pop. one tightly coupled set of subatomic particles obeying force fields punctures another, uncouples the sinews and liberates. twang. breaking the harmony of a mini universe sticks and stones may hurt but words don't is this a ******* ********** amendment irony amendment travesty sheathed in the 2nd that protects it this is a curse that travels with a singular aim

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Aug 6, 2019

Aug 6, 2019 at 9:29 PM UTC

bullet

released gently like a bud through the sepals moments after it pierces the air, the silence is shattered. pop. one tightly coupled set of subatomic particles obeying force fields punctures another, uncouples the sinews and liberates. twang. breaking the harmony of a mini universe sticks and stones may hurt but words don't is this a ******* ********** amendment irony amendment travesty sheathed in the 2nd that protects it this is a curse that travels with a singular aim

13

the lilies they bloom at your feet hear them sway to the wind they care of no coming doom here the finches they sing and play bend your bough and they build your seeds they will carry afar the wise old rock he gruntles and moves gently you are here to observe tell your story and let him be you are just here

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Jan 5, 2017

Jan 5, 2017 at 8:50 PM UTC

Untitled

the lilies they bloom at your feet hear them sway to the wind they care of no coming doom here the finches they sing and play bend your bough and they build your seeds they will carry afar the wise old rock he gruntles and moves gently you are here to observe tell your story and let him be you are just here

11

I was still feeding when the book was shut, I was reading!! Is that what the fly was thinking to itself, it got stuck at 'quibbling', the least appealing word in a book on problems of philosophy. Were you attracted to the two b's I'm sorry, I didn't notice you But you died by the words of a profound thinker He'd have been proud to know you landed on Philonous' dialogue with Hylas. I'm sorry, I didn't see you fly by you didn't die, in my mind. But it is your mind that matters if you were paying attention to Philonous. You were most certainly a fruit fly sorry I squished you were you after the fruit of wisdom I tried to flick you, but you stayed stuck I admire you for sticking by words You mean something to me, now that you are dead, I think. But that means you are alive in my mind This is an ode to you the wisest of flies You ate the fruit, that hides in plain sight humans are flies are humans we seek the fruit that diminishes gives us the feeling it nourishes not the fruit that grows when it falls its the fruit of knowledge you sought this is an ode to you fly and fruit you sought.

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Jan 4, 2017

Jan 4, 2017 at 8:05 PM UTC

Ode to a fly, The fly

I was still feeding when the book was shut, I was reading!! Is that what the fly was thinking to itself, it got stuck at 'quibbling', the least appealing word in a book on problems of philosophy. Were you attracted to the two b's I'm sorry, I didn't notice you But you died by the words of a profound thinker He'd have been proud to know you landed on Philonous' dialogue with Hylas. I'm sorry, I didn't see you fly by you didn't die, in my mind. But it is your mind that matters if you were paying attention to Philonous. You were most certainly a fruit fly sorry I squished you were you after the fruit of wisdom I tried to flick you, but you stayed stuck I admire you for sticking by words You mean something to me, now that you are dead, I think. But that means you are alive in my mind This is an ode to you the wisest of flies You ate the fruit, that hides in plain sight humans are flies are humans we seek the fruit that diminishes gives us the feeling it nourishes not the fruit that grows when it falls its the fruit of knowledge you sought this is an ode to you fly and fruit you sought.

30

In the garden amongst the flowers like a bee in a library, a bookshop there's nectars sweet with flavors discrete words bitter and stories magical I see and fly by Kafka, oh there's Camus I smell the roses and touch the lilies knowing not how to make honey much to see, much to read can I drink my share, lead others here where should I be, why cant I be

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Dec 30, 2016

Dec 30, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC

My Place?

In the garden amongst the flowers like a bee in a library, a bookshop there's nectars sweet with flavors discrete words bitter and stories magical I see and fly by Kafka, oh there's Camus I smell the roses and touch the lilies knowing not how to make honey much to see, much to read can I drink my share, lead others here where should I be, why cant I be

10