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Kartikeya Jain Jul 2018
Perhaps,
the grass will never know
the joy of flowing in the wind.
It's too stubborn to let go.
It's too arrogant to know
that the earth holds it,
not the other way round.
Maxim Keyfman Jul 2018
***** ***** on my head
I have good bread
Today beautiful day
I'm on my way

Pretty Clouds in the sky
My friend saying its all right
It's only true
U-hu-hu-hu-huu

***** ***** on my head
I have good bread
Today beautiful day
I'm on my way

Great Rocket in the sky
And cosmos in my mind
Great world today
Great making way

Great trees
And great grass
Great cheese
Forever
no only now just


***** ***** on my head
I have good bread
Today beautiful day
Im on my way

It's only true
U-hu-hu-hu-huu

2017
Issan Op Jun 2018
tall grass, broken glass
tall grass, broken glass

Shredded soles
Along the slate shoals
Shredded souls
Oh, where my heart goes

Tall grass, broken glass
Thorns aplenty
and dust to ash
Rotted bodies
Of water and trash
Thorns serrated-
sulks in the grass with-
broken glass, ash to ash

Still the rivers flows
Over rocks and stones
And washes away,
every smitten day

Begotten mud forms
Compressed into stone
or primordial bones
with a spirit on loan
nevertheless

We will have our tall grass
We will make our broken glass
And as the mountains burn to the ground we'll shrug and state "ash to ash."
I cut my hand on some slate
Liz Jun 2018
Hot, quiet and still days of June.
The air hangs and lingers,
Heat swirling creating bright
Beads of dew, popping up from your
Skin like little flowers or the
Tall grasses that curl towards the sun.
Liz Jun 2018
Swathes of swollen, rolling hills
With chops of fluffy, dry grass scattered over. It’s nice knowing they’re also not perfect, no one has cleared away they’re loose ends.
Silver, bumpy cloud fluff is grasped and pulled along through the air.
Blowing wind is picking up planting a chill on my arms raising the little hairs like baby fuzz.
Indranys Jun 2018
In the night...
I walked in the middle of forest...
I saw the grass was talking while looking up to sky...
They were very noisy....
They were talking about a lonely moon...
The grass said " The moon was always lonely and the stars weren't a real friend to her.
I was confuse and asked them "why...?"
They replied " The moon was always alone since millions years a go because when the all galaxies loved the sun she always loved the earth".
among our vast number
there is a grass
who transmits newsy tidbits
along the vine's brass

he or she does
a very effective job
by relaying our messages
from his or hers
informative gob

shortly we'll have to use
a cypher that is a scramble
so he or she won't be
privy to what we'll preamble

you just never know
who is dobbing you in
and the sort of tack
they're apt to spin

caution and care
must be the priority of mind
as somebody is leaking
our confidential rind
Adrian Jun 2018
grass stains
cover young knees
a dewy taste in the air
highlights the emerald
hills
a deep breath
stains fresh lungs with
chartreuse
rumpled fields
perfect for the imagination
to run wild
Elinor May 2018
s p r a w l e d
across the grass
my hands helplessly grasp the roots of the  buzzed  green carpet
   like it's the only thing that'll
hold me down
take me to the stars
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