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Man Mar 21
the first days of spring are upon us
and the rebirth is apparent in things all around us
from the leaves slowly growing back
to the grass, in need of mowing from growing fast
squirrels nibbling on juniper berries
the scent in air, sappy tar carried
with pollen intermixed
your allergies amiss
though still fortunate for the spring
Ackerrman Aug 2019
I am anxious to look or to caress
A beautiful, blooming, illustrious
*****. Vibrant; sumptuous red flower,
I would steal your time if just for an hour.
I swing between clovers, petals shelter
Forever. Woodlands help her. Athena:
Towering stature- plethora- no measure.
Tiny spots, flicking hair, untamed treasure.
Beneath inconsequential ethereal
Is something smaller, a single blue thrill-
Charging through empty halls at solid walls.
But the Devil smiles when an Angel falls.
This was something I wrote for a woman. I never gave it to her. Timing was always wrong.
neth jones Apr 2019


* Living under
  the heady cast of the Juniper tree ;
  an existence founded over sweeter decay

* It thatches a callous scabbing for us to build upon
  but releases gases from beneath
  that humour our sleep-waking state

* Everything is yield to its medicated sterility
  yet,
  as time passes,
  things become more vulnerable to rotting conditions :
  loose pore attachment
  splits in nails
  soft grey flakings
  withdrawn circulation
  moisture
  fluctuating body tempature
  unattached thought
  disorientation
  thoughtless and extreme mood
  forgotten bursts of severe aggression  ...

* Fertile tiny flies
  travel through
  the sponge of everything :
  they balance this environment

* Disquieted woozy days
  and slum summer
  and guests who feel foreign
  when our displays spill over...
  it’s all mallatuned

* Small tumbles, injury and self care shelved
  
* Entertainment is imperative
  jar in mit
  distraction is key
  merry made and merry go round
  and kilter unkeen
  and one patient taking care of the other patient
  crying jokes at each a smother
  unkept nesters
  bruises and guestures
  emotionally infested infantasy
  investment ingested
  under the guidance of the Juniper tree....
  the botchful why of the juniper
Writing The Past into The Past
M Rose Nov 2017
Sharks can't swim backwards,
they can only move forward.
But forward is a circle
and they'll never know.

We buried you in cherry
under the juniper tree,
and with God as my enemy,
God isn't there.
I tried to write a song after my baby brother died, but to no avail. The drought continues. I've been doing a lot of reckoning with my spirituality since then.
juniper jones Oct 2017
of pools of brown
and irises of gold
your eyes were the sweetest i've known
so serene, yet hid the roughness
tucked with secrets and stories
they held a softness

of pools of brown and-
irises of gold
your eyes were a truth
they were the coolest
they were the warmest i've ever seen

their own sun
a comfort
o' how your eyes
were magnets to my words
the inner most depths
of my virtue
Moonshine Noire Jun 2017
amber bourbon-coloured

demonic eyes frigid

grapes hitched

in juniper kisses

lemon moans

nosing out

perpertually queezy

rhinestone stars twinkling up

Virgo whites

xenial years zooming
A pine cone swept in the timber
in blow with wooden needles
that a lantern was the wiles of birch
along the frills of enlightened where spores till
this deadwood manufacturing transport
with a pipe cleaner's lore of trees
whether they intertwine on the carpet again
in loom to manifold in the soil.
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