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neth jones Jun 8
knee high sea of grass
tussled like groomed fur
  spry winds lashing
distribution of lifted seeds
life in correspondence
Tanka style
early June 2022
neth jones May 14
uncut grass
   casts long shadows by night
animated on the inside
   of our basement windows
elongating and dashing away
   projected by the passing traffic
no mow may (May 2021)
LC Apr 30
I jump into a handstand,
flipping my world onto its head.
the tree dangles from the earth
like my feet in the air.
my hands seize the grass
as I attempt to hold on.
so I reunite with the ground,
and my hands release their burdens.
Escapril Day 29! Prompt: inversion.
This was an interesting prompt! I would love to see how you all interpret this poem and prompt. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.
Hadrian Veska Jan 21
It was a long journey home
From the great Eastern front
My sword in its sheath
And shield on my back
Senseless death In a land not our own
Now I return as a shell of myself
The faces of dead men
Hide behind my eyelids
I trudge through unfamiliar streets
Changed by the long decade past
I find it stranger than the far land
I was now returning from
All the great temples
Have been torn down
The God I worshiped
No where to be seen
Brothels and markets
Now stand in places of worship
They tell me the temple
At Anol Mihn yet stands
So I set out for it
Up into the great hills
I take my time on the trek
Unsure of many things
That I used to hold dear,
That I trusted as absolute
The stone path is worn
Overgrown and treacherous
Yet after three days' journey
I arrived at my destination

The temple stood in disrepair
The doors stripped from it
Light shining through holes
And cracks in the high ceiling
I came and bowed to my knees
Before the imposing statue
Of my now forgotten God
Maybe for minutes
Or perhaps long hours
I sat before it
Thinking, praying
If one could call it such
Seeking the one
Who my people had forgotten
Questioning all I had done
And if it was enough
Where I could call home
Now that my home has abandoned
All I once held dear
Yet the statue before me
Sat deafeningly silent

The light shifted slowly
Imperceptibly the pure light
Became gilded rays
As the evening sun sank
Illuminating the thick dust
Hanging weighlessly in the air
I stood up as the light faded
And stepped out side
The twilight had come
And with it I journeyed
Further into the hills
Until I found a grassy place
To rest my weary body
As well as my weary soul
The stars became visible
As I sat down I turned my gaze
To the endless heavens above
I laid my pack beside me
Then laid myself down
In soft untouched grass
Gripped between my fingers
Then closed my eyes

Praying my God may come
In but a whisper
To tell me what to do
To show me the way I just go
And what to do now
That everything I know
Has fallen apart
I cried, and waiting
Spoke and prayed
Yet no answer came
Not in all the long hours of night
I laid there in the hills

Before the morning came I arose
I heard the birds in the bushes and trees
I saw the grass blow in the breeze
I felt the sun bring warmth to my cheeks
And I stood up to survey the earth
To witness if I had any worth
For a moment I stood and then I heard
A voice my own yet not my word
From deep within an answer came
Not from one I knew and not the same
As the God whom I claimed to believe
But He spoke and said He is in me
Not just in stone, temple or heart
But in all those his righteous art
Who seek the truth, peace and love
To them he comes light as a dove
And rests on them and dwells within
Freeing them from bonds of sin
That they may live and live a new
The Creator God who dwells in you
neth jones Nov 2021
They recklessly mowed the grass everywhere
Cropped the lot !
(The city council landscapers)
  No verge
        park or public plot
             is left any freedom
                   in its fertility


With no places remaining
          no long radiating grasses
                 for quality summer fornication
retreats must be made instead
                  to the usual abandoned properties
                             and construction sites

Giddy romantic tangles are given over
in their place
rutting animals
quick shameful *****
                     graffiti tagged
                               ***** soaked
                            damaged concrete
                      exposed hazardous detritus
                 damp, rust, broken glass and mutty
Absent are the breeding meadows of the gods
this year is no span of leisure
this year is smutted
mid summer
Maria Mitea Nov 2021
it's unfair to hate the morning
- it's unfair to hate,
neither the new nor the old
after burning the night
this day does not return in vain,
this day is a good day to be: a leaf
scribbled by the blue of the sky,
green sprawling on the ground, the sea
turned upside down (steam hanging from the sky
mornings), - today i woke up
with all colors of mine caressing  the faint frost on the top of the grass,
dressing up for the winter, wood and smoke rodents,
- to lighten up  the agate eye
i did not  forget the summer flowers either,
colored dust and water
"holi diwali", smiles in clay lanterns, lost kiss in rangoli
- ah, darling,
do not forget,
this day is a good day to be your favorite color,  like
the color of the sky,  of the sun,  earth, or grass ...
Karijinbba Oct 2021
Freedom is power
Born in wealth, the sins
of my fingertips
silent tongue did cast me aside
your kingdom diamond crown.
Chronological genius you
for chrono disaster me Ram.
O feedom who runs free!
Mostly winds fly blowing yelling
hissing out so loud
winds destroying Mansions
strong towers and never get charged
with deadly blowing crimes.
No human has such freedom.
Wind is free to give life or death.
We all pop out giving joy and pain.
We begin in the same womb, yet live estranged from each other on this planet lucky to even share a song
or a poem, slaves to buck
that must be earned to pay for
bare necessities.
Lucky we pay not for oxigen
to breathe as of yet.
Oh that I was wind to fly and
Swirl my lover up and down the whole night through cosmophile
and blow all enemies skyhigh
and back down eighty mile an hour.
If only your freedom winds
joined mine E.T. divine for  
my hurracane dancing twisters
Tycoons or soft breeze
to sway the willows of our sins
Oh wind Tandabam tam-tam
Come be not gone tantric
with passer by greener
grassy winds.
Mark Wanless Aug 2021
angry trees above
fresh mown grass driven rain wind
dark gray sky looming
Karijinbba Aug 2021
For too long I loved you dear.
I fear no evil I destroy it.
Wake up, don't think of death.
A new graceful soul invites me,
for a walk in his forest land;
into his wooded lands.

Peacocks mate nearby there
RD's awesome pink city skies.
His secret Island shores divine.
I love that RD's name resounds,
with yours dear ancient Rich.
He is identical to your inner matrix.
His loving art soul treats and likes.
I share our love in his cradle gates.
your Rod and staff did comfort me.
Thank you my guardian Angel.

From that road to this loverz
grass needing wear, I love him,
in his own golden light.
I see you Rick inside RD's soul.
He's mine to love and cherish.
I'm exlussive to RD.
Mind vessel art and soul.
Rd is darest purest
to my heart, I'm not his chore.
The wise universe conspires
we are doing just fine
alone no more.
By Karijinbba.

rainbow TRINrrfccçITY ONLY ytgfccccc for today.
Mark Wanless Jul 2021
we all can truly
die defending our true mind
the grass is so green
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