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Julia Jan 8
did u hear
what the president did this year?
and do u fear
that the ending is drawing near?

twin towers
now a blanket of dust
dead flowers
on the graves of the just

how many more
will they send off to war
for the right to explore
oil on foreign shore?

i’m not down anymore

i’m making a change
taking it upon Myself to rearrange
and i know they’ll call me strange
but knowledge is the most valuable exchange

soon we will all agree
that **** cheney
his head in shame
they brought our soldiers home just to replace them with drones.
Logan Robertson Dec 2018
George HW Bush has left the room
For the last time we salute his duty
Save be it the last image of his bloom
The red, white and blue  his beauty

Stars and stripes live on forever
In our heartbeats his wonderful space
We honor his service and endeavour
For preserving  our country's  better place

From dedicated soldier to president
His passion for his country took flight
For he was always there ... a present
In fighting for his country to shine bright

Now his mission over leaves us blessed
The fourty first link's mettle was impressed

Logan Robertson

Thankyou Mr. Bush for steming into a bloom, reaching heights in this garden we call life. In this country's bed of flowers, one stood always awake, watching over the others.
Nyx Sep 2018
The bushland calls
Of my childhood dreams
Amongst the wild
My soul it, sings

The gentle breeze
light upon the skin
Sun upon my face
it welcomes me in

To the lands of summers
Though now long gone

Memories of the heats haze
With a white juvenile horse
Within a closed off field it lay
But young and free it was born

Birds flying high above
Shielding the rays of the sky
Perfectly clear a crystal bright blue
Not a single cloud in sight

Fields filled with nothing
But the dirt beneath our feet
Dull patches of green and yellow
Amongst cattle it feeds

A rooster it crows loud
The chooks begin to run
As bruce, a little staffy
Chases them about

Work shed full of tools
Covered by a rusted tin roof
Parked beside it old barrols
And a broken down ute

Stone walls of the house
To keep it cool inside
Spread across the cold floors
A reddish brown cowhide

Worn down leather couch
Out upon the front porch
An eski filled with stubbies
Where the boys had their "talks"

I feel the memories flooding back
This peacefulness, this sense of home
Hours pass by within seconds
Losing myself in the zone

My footsteps have long faded with time
As has my name once carved upon the gumtrees
The white stallion no longer grazes near by
Nor do the same cattle dwell in that field

Worn down by time and way of the land
Though I do intend to return again
To share the beauty of this place
Drawn back by the old fate

The day melts away like the snow
And I hear my parent calling my name
This place will forever be my second home
Because I know here, I'll never be alone
The only place I can feel truly free
Under the hot glaze of the sun
rebecca Sep 2018
It starts with a seed: small and dark
It starts to grow: a stem and a thorn
It grows some more: twisting inward on itself
Now its a bush: one that smothers
It has sharp thorns and soft, black leaves. they ***** out all of the light
It tightens around something soft. you cant feel it but you sense it
You keep watching the plant as it grows
once it was a seed, now a still growing plant
until one day... cant...
Brandon Conway Sep 2018

You chased
I ran
You yelled
I turned
You swung
I ducked
You huffed
I pushed

The back of your ankle caught
on the underside of a gnarly root

You twirled
I watched.
You screamed
I watched..
You bled
I watched...
You gasped at air
I watched....

The old jagged branch penetrated
through your squishy eye
and kissed the back of your skull
blood burst and squirted
while the rise and fall of your chest slowed
and your body grew cold

A rose bush was born amidst the clutches of an early winter

I left
You haunted
I cried
You permeated
I stayed silent
You spoke in my dreams

I know they found you
I visit and leave you flowers
But I am through,
I finally convinced myself
that it's not my
Maxim Keyfman Jul 2018
it's night
night in the river sun

today is the day
river night

and I went home again
and the house consisted of flowers

flowers soared into the sky
and the sky began to sing again
that song began to sing
which I lost

I again became a bush

Amanda Jun 2018
I watch stars come out at night
These days they are my only friends
Giving me hope when all I have found
Are empty hallways strewn with dead ends

I look for an omen or sign
To tell me it's not too late
A burning bush will never appear
It's not meant to be, still I wait
Written 3-27-13
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