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Sarah Feb 2016
I have a garden growing
entangled in my chest
the earth is overflowing
making quite a mess
pushing daisies from my ribcage
roses blooming in my heart
my lungs are filled with ivy
so I don't fall apart
each day the roots grow deeper
filling in the holes
I have a garden growing
deep within my soul.
cyanide skies Aug 2015
she smelled like clementines
the year the winter became floral
and when the springtime cropped
up skeletons of flowers
she couldn't use her imagination and
they told her it was fine they
told her that was that
and this was this
and it was time for the winter
to stop blooming
who had ever heard of a floral winter, anyway?
so she packed away those
ideas of flight
and the winters became poison ivy
winding, wrapping themselves
spineless but wicked
around and around until they rested there
right there in her chest
choking her heart.
**
Angela G Jul 2015
Ivy
The ivy climbs high,
It reaches out-
Limitless.

Unashamedly,
Thriving off the life of its host,
Who is just as blind.

Lovers compare its growth,
To their emotions-
Limitless.

Irony.
What thrives so well,
Eventually kills its host,
Who is just as blind.
Brother Jimmy Jul 2015
Maybe you’re mistaken
       when you think about what’s out there,
You attribute ev’ry stimulus
       to winged things from books,

Mistaking accidental circumstances
       for essential causes,
There isn’t really anything
       that God conveys with looks.

Perhaps it is hard to face the truth:
       we’re just meat bags with will,
Which slowly rot away until
       the day when we’re forgotten

Needlessly dissecting
       every move and every inner thought,
Attempting to discover
       what makes us all so very rotten.

Take a deep breath
And hold it in
Until you feel it all
...Fading away

Slowly toward death
All of us fall
Someday we’ll feel it all
...Fading away

Through my goat mouth, it’s true,
       you can hear me bleating,
Like a little lamb who’s lambier
       than lamby-lambs can be,

But yes in fact it’s bike tires,
       and tin cans that I’m eating,
And I feel my goat heart beating
       and... I want to flee.
Devin Ortiz Jun 2015
Inhale, the thick smell
of cinders and ash.
Ignites memories of this place.
The warmth, whispers words
long forgotten.
My feet leave impressions in the earth,
A stamp in time.

I remember when we lived here,
before ashes to ashes,
and before the sun went down,
leaving your eyes shining golden in the dark.
I will never forget the irises in your eyes,
burning as I remember you,
you smolder deeper into me than you know.

Your ghost resonates
in the embers, I sit.
Laying back, the passionate
flame left inside of me,
dances until the sun begins
to paint the sky with,
the majestic hues that
led us here. Suffocated now.
Even fires need to breathe.

I'm blue with a sadness
That burns hot and slowly.
You used to tickle me like tulip
Petals, your lips on my shoulder,
I won't forget you.
I wrestle with an ivy growing invasive
Over my heart.
I'm all of the things we lost and
Never had.

Peeling away the foliage,
I simmer down, let my fire
fade away. I brush away
times erosion, where
my fingertips burn as the
trace the name, that fueled
the light I cherished so dear,
all those years ago.

I'm swollen with a grief,
That grows from the mere fact
That you're just a ghost,
And that I'm growing out of
Rotten soil.

Blooming with malicious thoughts
crawling in the back of my mind.
Slithering down my spine, too cold
for the embers, the smoldering ash,
or charred remains which once burned
white hot in my heart to warm.
Another joint piece that http://hellopoetry.com/LovelyLillianoftheValley/ and I created.
Charles Smith Apr 2015
Through water and sand, stands you.
Spring breaking at you feet
Your breath flicking the pages of a street paper
A black crown of nightingales at your head
Entwined in leaves and wheat trickling down stones in dew-morning light and thrones in brambles of blackberry pie
Rooted to firewood and sheer bliss of kissed moonlight
Where herons christen Stars before black velvet blanket
Bridled by Rosemary and time, caught with Mary in a dark corner
Slumped behind priest less ivy, we permeate the air and through blue blooded command and gnashing of teeth, slants me
Outside the ramshackle cwtch I the hangmedown barks of woods, kneels you.
And stopped around cockles and foundling sparrows, sings the epitaph of a fallen barbarian.
Still through desert and carcass, lies you.

JWS
Mel Harcum Feb 2015
She has a bruise on her left knee
reminiscent of science-book nebulas,
and the veins reaching into her palm
look like the ivy vines wrapped around
the old oak at the end of my grandmother’s

driveway. But as she presses contacts into each eye,
her pupils dilate and contract like a camera
lens shifting to accommodate for motion
blurry as her unaided vision, and her wrists
crack as if made of ill-fitted cogs chipping away--

both a tempest-tide and midnight snowfall,
yet the sum of neither.
KD Miller Dec 2014
12/18/2014

Subartic winds howling down tunnel wind slleys
sounding a lot, you know, like us.
Smoke plums would climn up past our
cupid's bows reaching fo the reaches of dark matter
"oh don't worry about me"'s
under the sweet toffee light of the cannery
black haired boys would smile and we'd
spit back more crass
the light shining down on our columellas
and the trefoils of menthol ginger history now-
a boy would take out his lighter
and somewhere behind us in the back of town
we'd hear the ghost of a christmas Mel Torme song
on the terrace of a good cafe.
part of the Marauders of Ivy Ln series

princeton nj
AMcQ Dec 2014
Like ivy wound
and woven through
trellis;
you envelope
my very being.
Curling, gripping
clutching my skin.
Inching upward,
reaching for
wispy blue skies.
Perhaps you are
climbing beyond
me.
I ask only that
you do not slight
my role in your
rise.
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