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Petal pie
Brighton, England    Loopy lady loves to muse and converse with others, writes amateur odes from time to time. I love flowers, my kids, making things, my job …
petalsofhope
"Hope. It's like a drop of honey, a field of tulips blooming in the springtime. It's fresh rain, a whispered promise, a cloudless sky, the …
F    pouring feelings into words.

Poems

Bags  Oct 2012
Petal Picker
Bags Oct 2012
A petal picker walks backwards.
A petal picker has a stupid man gripping it's ankles.
A petal picker thinks too much.
A petal picker kills children.
A petal picker doesn't talk a lot.
A petal picker is amorphous.
A petal picker has no face.
A petal picker lacks in poise.
A petal picker makes up his mind.
A petal picker smokes cigarettes.
A petal picker sleeps in the daytime.
A petal picker sleeps in the nighttime.
A petal picker loves the outdoors.
A petal picker adores the beautiful things in life.
A petal picker wears other people's skin.
A petal picker wants to do things.
A petal picker sits down very well.
A petal picker remembers a lot.
A petal picker doesn't do anything at all.
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
I wake up in the morning and think, how rude of me to wake up without warning. Because I'm a grenade. Just look at all of the promises I've made, that I know I can't keep. I try my best to go back to sleep; but I can't.
       So I dress myself in yellow caution tape, close the drapes, turn out the light and tell myself no one will find me here but I know they might.
       I hang a stop sign on the outside of the door and lock it, put the key in my otherwise empty pocket and scream, "This is a danger zone, don't come near. there is only hazardous waste in here!"

             I didn't know you were fearless.
Or that you could break down a door.
Never  thought you'd caress me, pick me up off the floor
and say "But, you used to be so full of life."
Those words cut through me like a knife because I remember when butterflies still lived in my stomach and fireflies lived in my eyes.
they're dead now. I'm not surprised.
But, could you maybe bring them back to life?
They haven't taken flight since we slept in the meadow that night.
When I realized, after all those hours laying in a field of flowers,
That I am the flower you disassemble Petal by Petal.
as you chant "she loves me, she loves me not."  about some other girl. And I try not to rant, because we've never fought. But I don't want to listen to you tell me how her hair glistens in the sun, or how she bites her lip when you call her Hon. I don't want to hear it. I don't want you to give my biggest fear a name or face I could recognize. I'm just hoping you scrutinized me petal by petal as you disassembled my petals with another ******* your mind. and that's why you're back now. That you don't know how, but your thoughts trailed or that other girl failed you. And while you were moping you thought of me broken, scattered Petal by Petal. And your heart shattered at the thought so you bought a one way ticket and broke down my door. Because you realized while you were moping that you love me and you were stupid before. maybe i'm wrong and you shouldn't have to settle.

I'm just hoping,  you'll put me together again Petal by Petal
© copyrighted *Nicole Ann Osborn