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I S A A C Aug 18
just molted
new body still sensitive
your fingers brushed through my hair
my perspective is questioning
birds eye view to warped perception
confidence then second guessing
snow angels in the backyard
tears in the diary
smoke joints in the backyard
fears feel so fiery
your fingers traced my cracked heart
my fingers drew you and your scars
i just molted
new heart still sensitive
George Krokos Mar 2022
In the confines of the house's backyard
there are no marked graves at all to see
but an attempt will be made by this bard
to relate according to personal memory
of some creatures buried therein to be.

Over the course of many years gone by
various creatures have been laid to rest
in the soil of the yard's ground to comply
with an improvised simple funeral blest
by a short little prayer to end their quest.

There were a couple of cats it is recalled
one of them was within the property born
though with the other memory has stalled
which is not surprising and hardly forlorn
to blame or point at with a finger of scorn.

Then there were also a few local birds
mainly sparrows that were regularly fed
which flew all around and dropped turds
being a little distressing to find any dead
some due to after eating crumbs of bread.

They were preyed upon by neighbors' cats
and left for dead when they were disturbed
in their instinctual appetite that included rats
when by humankind were scared and curbed
due to their wild nature's feast so perturbed.

Then on occasion also mice would run free
which were seen coming through the fence
and when at times chased scurried up a tree
where they would hurry to get away thence
a similar burial applied if found dead hence.

It'd be so incomplete here not to mention
all those spiders and insects that had died
in some way or other due to a pretension
that their annoying habitual nature implied
to be poisoned or squashed in their stride.

They have all been buried in the backyard
in various places there that are not marked
laid to rest in the ground either soft or hard
under where others had roamed and barked
in the distant past after they were all carked.
Written in May 2020.
a low flying crow
eyed pumpkin seeds lying
in Helen's backyard
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
A True Story
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy Michael Burch

Jeremy hit the ball today
when he and I went out to play.
He hit it, oh, so far away,
a neighbor had to throw it back!

Jeremy hit the ball so hard
it flew into the neighbor’s yard
and caught the other kids off-guard;
they thought it was an air attack!

Jeremy hit the ball again,
above the sun, beyond the wind;
as we watched it soar and slowly spin ...
we gave high-fives for his awesome smack!

Keywords/Tags: baseball, hitting, backyard, child, children, childhood, kids, fence, neighbor, yard, play, air, home run, homer, high-fives
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Whatever winds encountered soon resolved
to swirling fragments, till chaotic heaps
of leaves lay pulsing by the backyard wall.
In lieu of rakes, our fingers sorted each
dry leaf into its place and built a high,
soft bastion against earth’s gravitron—
a patchwork quilt, a trampoline, a bright
impediment to fling ourselves upon.

And nothing in our laughter as we fell
into those leaves was like the autumn’s cry
of also falling. Nothing meant to die
could be so bright as we, so colorful—
clad in our plaids, oblivious to pain
we’d feel today, should we leaf-fall again.

Published by The Raintown Review, Deronda Review, Jewish Letter (translated into Russian by Vera Zubarev), The Chimaera, Freshet, Contemporary Sonnet, Stremez (translated into Macedonian by Marija Girevska), The Eclectic Muse, Better Than Starbucks, Glass Facets of Poetry, Victorian Violet Press

Keywords/Tags: Childhood, autumn, wind, winds, fall, falling, leaves, backyard, heaps, piles, rakes, bastion, gravitron, patchwork, quilt, trampoline, laughter, cry, bright, colorful, plaid, plaids, pain, memory, recollection, remembrance, die, dying, death
TS Ray Oct 2019
Sing for me, oh wind chime!

Winds are blowing from north to south,
Skies are darkening from up above,
Rains are showering over a white robe, and
the globe is dancing with a mild glow.

So sing for me, oh wind chime!

Blue jays are pecking at an oak tree,
Spinning around squirrels who are as carefree,
Unaware of a herd of deer roaming free,
their intelligence only bettered by their calling soiree.

So sing for me, oh wind chime!

Even as the prairie of a backyard is so beautiful,
when winds are so peaceful,
flowing the dandelions along plentiful,
depositing themselves on young ones a handful.

So sing for me, oh wind chime!
Jillian Jesser Oct 2018
and when your babies were born
you named them for the stars
but the backyard was all they ever saw
when your mother got the call
the world was obsessed
but when we change the channel
you'll still feel him inside
you'll still feel him
Matthew Sutton Aug 2018
A reflection - maybe that is what I see
A replication - maybe that is what I am trying to be

        and as I sit on this back-deck  
        my left foot dangles over the left railing

        and in this midnight the street-light beams with confidence
        as my eyes adjust
        The shadow grows
        Mine or your’s? - I do not know.

A miniature volcano decays between my fingertips
A moment of false peace
    -    a vapor
        come & gone
        a memory shrouded in nicotine
        lying within a bottomless ashtray  
        This is the back-yard landscape    -
Megan May 2018
I close my eyes
So tight that it hurts,
so tight that I'm crying

But I'll keep them shut
Until at least I can remember
until at least I can understand

When you were the one
who spoke to me
who spoke to me about wanting this small backyard

I didn't want the cherry tomatoes
so red
so sweet

Next to the chilli peppers
so pungent
so spicy

But you planted them there anyway
In this small backyard
In this hole in my heart

And the cherry tomatoes died
overbearing chillis
overbearing on me

In this small backyard
where you planted seeds
Where you planted love in my heart

I don't know what it was
But the way it is now
but the way they taste now

I like the backyard
with the hole in the ground
with the hole in my heart

Overbearing chillis
you replaced cherry tomatoes
you replaced the sweetness and the ****
Poem dumping again don't mind me ! I don't really go through my poems before I dump them lol but here it be also ****** because dumps lol get it
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