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Philip Smith Jun 28
How many times have I climbed this mountain?
How many times sat in the dry leaves at the end of day?
And how many more to come?
Uncountable to me...
There must be a definite number
but to me they are endless.
Endless in number and endless
each in its own day.
Circa 2014
Philip Smith Jan 2017
I will let the moon in
one voice at a time
where the wind
tears its skin
one voice at a time

They have a lot to say
And they say it all day

Whip up the wind
the moon is finished with them!
Upon a time, once
twice again and again
with the wind
when the moon is finished with them
voices blow out of the voices’ hole
in the wind again with the skin
with the tear in the wind
with the wind against my skin
Philip Smith Jan 2017
Mossy rock mossy me
by a little stream
where birds sing
as they bathe
and I pretend
I have feathers
just like them
and splash and fluff
and throw back my head
to sing and to laugh
but at the slightest sign
of alarm they fly off
and I am all alone
silent as a stone
on a mossy rock
mossy me
Philip Smith Oct 2015
Node poem here:

set up on the nice spongy ground

a ring of stones where a fire goes

strawberries all around

but they are quite now

just as the fire went

when the wind blew

they coat the ground

but their fruit is asleep

deep in their green

an idea in their genes

still none of this

is why day goes
Playing with a non-ordered form. Try to keep the phrases short and open-ended, and open-beginninged, so that each line can be attached to any of the others. Sense the sense in the shift of order.
Philip Smith Jun 2015
Mayapples grow as ones and twos.
Wherever they must, whenever they choose.
When they are young they rise as one
over the forest floor on a single stem.
When they ripen and are laden
with fruit and flower the one
becomes two
I becomes you.

From then on, we bloom together
not as one alone
but as two together
on a single stem.
And between us blooms a flower
neither alone could bloom before
and from us comes a fruit
to seed the forest floor.
Some creative biology here. My myth is May Apples first grow as 'bachelors' then self-separate into a couple which is when they flower and fruit.
Written with love for my dear bride Brittany on the occasion of our marriage, 5-15-15

I also like how center alignment almost turns this into a concrete poem, you can see it as a vase and flower.
Philip Smith Feb 2015
Art hear
Art ear
Earth hear
Earth are
H earth
H eart
Philip Smith Jan 2015
Witch-hazel blooms in the winter light
Upon the grey rocky mountains’ height
A lady comes upon it and she weeps to see it bloom
So close to the winter and the snow comes too soon

Witch-hazel bough in this lady’s hair
She hears the owl call from its hidden lair
In the dark where her love’s gone and she must follow soon
Now that the snows covered over the witch-hazel bloom
Witch hazel is one of my favorites plants. It is unique because it flowers in November or December when most other plants are deep in hibernation. Nice to see something bloom out of season, kind of keeps the spirit alive in the dark cold time.
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