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neth jones Jun 3
110
I enter a voiceless Forrest
quiet
           as after ******

it awaits a wind
                     to disturb
its brooks
          to run full babble
and the creatures
                 to muster bravery
and reveal themselves

Caught unawares
I feel I may have embarrassed it
I shall return later for my walk
neth jones May 11
When the crime is right
      & the devil wet
             the nocturnal forrest is a skin
                     and ceremony thin dreams broach reason
            they poach me with a caustic blooded rash
approaching as nippy darts  ; visions of shard and coil
a metallic eggy rot
                           and pan to the darkness
                                                     snapping electric

        irregular from that darkness
spaces between the trees comb
                      form a hyper hectic wealth of flushes
a blush burst discharges in the body
           booming pulse
          blooming rabidly
salivating to a ******* savagery
a nature to express
       forecast
             within permeable forrest

i have energy amazed limbs
             daring a dance
                       screamin' hole The Frenzy
             dog-shaking the head
legs flung and planted
crushing ferns
             this hefty simian sway
                      a broadcast challenge
             invitation
           a power coward
commanding a matching of kinds
                       excitation
       no longer to be foetal and cowed
             an aching unmend amended
a call is placed
the spell is rendered
    
                                 - resonate
Companion to ''Spring Gland'
Gemma Mar 18
I planted their seeds some time ago now. I'm still struggling to set them free.

I want to chew them up and spit them out from where they grow inside of me.

I can feel them now, writhing around,
like poison ivy in my veins.

The bitter taste in the back of my throat,
as they creep up towards their escape.


It's too painful to even try to release them,
So for now I guess they'll stay.

My words are hiding within me, growing darker every day.

Twisting around all that I am and all that I can be.


Taking root withing my bones and soul, a dark forest inside of me.
Once the seed of something has been planted, the idea grows.  Harvest them or let them rot.
Prevost Aug 2020
Part I

This the divinity of wordless gods
Grasping the sun
Reaching into the earth
Braiding the two
in symphony
Each leaf, each fiber, each vine
Provide the score
The rays of sunlight the bow
That in the pause
Sing the beautiful music of silence....
This starts my series of poems titled "The Woods"
James Jul 2020
Hark! the woods carry out a cleansing hymn
Perfectly profound in depth
in beauty
in form
The Forrest song Seeks solace in life
Finds rapture in death
owls reveal themselves as seraphim
below the effulgent stars
keeping the Forrest pure
Pure of heart
pure of thought
there is an ancient wisdom
in the trees
which wax and wane
wilt and die over time
There is an ancient wisdom
in the rocks
which hold untold memories
and brood over bygone days
The Forrest is a single organism
with manifold moving parts
Imbued with a splendor supreme
JW Mar 2020
body hurting
mind wandering
you lie wide awake
cuddled in comforting darkness

you wonder
why and how
while the glistening sun
burns deep wholes into your dark soul

thoughts drizzle
merging into a wild stream
that leads you
into the darkest forrest

beautiful old trees
block your vision
that is clouded to begin with
by a million dry tears

in the far distance
you spy with your redened eye
what might be a blooming glade

                                                 R U N  
                                                 F A S T E R
Wouter Dec 2019
The forest must have been colorful,

peeling off greenish yellow towards rusty brown

The ground is soggy, paths unclear

branches and wind-blown vegetation.

There must have been walkers huddled

or full with their face in the watery sun,

who was perhaps there. They must have looked disapproving

or agreeing. There were also solid beech nuts,

chestnuts or a single *****; fall in November

as you know it, from before and pictures. I don't remember.

You were there.
Written in fall after visiting a forrest with her
Keiri Jul 2019
Captured in an empty forrest.
My mind has left me today.
Ran away on it's own, alone.
He has fled me, when the sky got grey.

My body, alone soulles.
Never to be found, here in the ground.
But he's off to a better place, my mind.
And I have gotten used to it, the sound.

It's the noise of madness that keeps pesting me.
Silence is lonely, but can ease me at times.
My mind now in a lush pink cloud.
While my body is stuck with self influenced mimes.

But when he got back, my mind.
He was in for quite a shock.
He would never have expected.
Chaos, disaster, as timed by a ticking clock.

Being back to reality as if awaking from a dream.
But the dream not ending but becoming a nightmare.
And your life is filled with monsters.
The judgement, the dissapointment, the deadstare.

As if everybody can live your life better than you.
Yet they still prefere to live their own lives.
And my mind being numb, not knowing were to start.
While others are still on a pink cloud, thinking of their strives.

If there was a better way to live my life.
Don't you think, I'd live it that way?
I'm not as masochistic as I seem, you know.
I do not prefere things this grey.

I know what I'm doing, and know much is wrong.
But many of the thing I do, the things I've done.
Where only when I got pushed against a wall.
Or do you think I did it all for fun?

Captured in an empty forrest.
My mind will leave me tomorrow
Run away on it's own, alone.
Leave me again with my own sorrow.
It's the middle of the night, I won't be surprised by type-o's... feel free to appoint them, but don't shame me for it pls.
neth jones Jun 2019
Starved
sleep depraved
and braving visions

This is how I take my walk

One song
tucking over and over
in my headspace

This is how I take my walk

Map-less

My dry head tugging
from behind my eyes

This is how I take my walk

My bag
packed with care
(by list and by experience)
I abandoned it by the front door

This is how I take my walk

There’s this note I’ve left for you
much is explained
lots is left held
(that content
I carry with me)

Leaving a trail of my clothing
I am body naked to the weather

I carry no knife
but am married to my teeth and my fixtures

I’ve outstrided my pollution

Upon reaching an unfamiliar forest
I unlace my shoes
And place them on a rock
I draw a breath
Place my fear

I trend tender into the trees
Will May 2019
Dirt, grass, leaves, rocks, trees.
Looking down at my grubby hands, scuffed up from foraging for a soul.
Light gleams through the branches above, yet my eyes cannot unsee the darkness around me.
Stumbling forward, tripping on the forest ground, searching for meaning in a meaningless land.
My eyes blink, salt and liquid try to blend, but nothing leaves the eyelids as they contort and bend.
After a lifetime of crying alone, my river of tears seems dried to the bone.
Heat subsides while the sun sets, coolness of night begins it's rise from the depths.
Feeling weird
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