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I S A A C Nov 2023
I’ll enjoy the sunset while you’re gone
I’ll enjoy my evenings humming alone
I’ll cherish the buzzing bees and the butterflies in my lawn
I don’t need to yearn
I don’t need to worry
I am in stasis not determined
I am freedom not burden
so I write the song that we sing along
I’ll enjoy your company when you come
I’ll cherish every fingerprint that you left on my heart
I don’t need to strive
I don’t need to worry
I am in stasis not determined
Andrew Rueter Nov 2022
Love blooms from fertile fields like springtime sprawlers
but the regimental maintenance of one’s lawn
halts the grass at a certain height

lessening mushrooms and mosquitoes
lessening honeysuckle and dandelions

the aroma of lavender and roses
faintly cries from beneath grass clippings.
Thomas Steyer Jul 2021
Dug up an earthworm
the longest I've ever seen
while paving a garden path
to make my home look clean.

Thought it wouldn't suit the worm
to be trapped under so much rock,
so I tossed him over to my neighbour
who has lots of lawn around his block.

Hoped the worm would appreciate
that my strategy has saved his day,
when a crow came swooping down,
picked him up and flew away.
Hussein Dekmak Apr 2021
The elderly man who used to greet me with a soft smile, while sitting on the bench in front of his lawn, is no longer around!

The bench is still there, yet the elderly man had been replaced by his grim - faced grandson playing on his phone!

As I pass by the bench, I wonder what type of legacy the elderly man had left behind!

Hussein Dekmak
Edited 2
saarahe Feb 2021
we sit and try to name all the stories we barely remember:
supposedly, as if you have rolled your tongue like that your whole life.
it is march and as much as it pours
I still grimace as the truth rises
out, lustful for air and understanding

(don't you remember,
every dreary november
that girl, meek and bolder
with a chip on her shoulder
unsteady, not ready
to fall down, heart out
shattering onto the muddied ground
reaching out, then
deep down inside
no tools
trying to hide . . .
but how long will you choose not to see?

don't you know, young one,
then there was nothing you could do,
don't you remember, her, that girl,
that girl she was you?)

the rain drip, drips on the lawn
and I hold the handle tighter. take a sip and sigh.
the soft rays gleam on the walls, our hands, where my lips just touched
and we watch them dance in the occasional light,
and we sit reckoning with the wisps in our hearts,
to be unafraid of the morning, and when the water rises
feelings are rough and heavy and weigh like bricks, and are sometimes relaxing
yes: the word is cathartic
neth jones Feb 2021
Retreating from
  weighty day of toil
I settle my slack
  on tailored sprawl of lawn
Compressed soil radiating ;
  tapped battery
  of a day's warmth
Life is raised through my cartridge
  I stretch out
  receiving reptile charge

Aimed shyly
   at the expansive dark bedding of night sky
     pecked at with pinholes...
each emitting brilliance
firing out fuel
  exhaust from further worlds
                less adulterated than our own

There is a correspondence
  amongst the insects in the grass
  ticking, clicks and tats
  like static amongst laundry
There's a great correspondence out there
  in the night sky

here am
   invulnerable human
    suburban and secure

a cross draft
   from the open basement window
              invades me
eggy sulphur burping from the drains
an organic degassing from below my house

: Betrayed ! 

my feeling passes
the stars behave stagnant
       and dismissive of me
; withholding glove oblivion ;
the clouds step in
  like a quick curtain
  over some 'lewd private show'
(must I pay more
                  to see more ?)
My world is kept restrictive
; a muzzling

I bare the weight still
      of the days wetter ill
Better off indoors
            of my own dander
and projected upon
        by a feeding screen
Traci Sims May 2017
Green grass, silver chain,
a low, slate sky waiting to rain.
My Golden Retriever finishes her yawn,
sits up, and takes off like a shot
towards the far end of the lawn.
In one, long wave the fine mesh links
are played out until the line yanks taut.
The dog never learns. My heart sinks.

From "Bird's Nest In Your Hair" by Brian Jobe
A wonderful writer and good friend of mine. Hope you like it!
indistinctively I took a hasty step
the ground below my feet rumbled
balancing my way on a thread like lawn
comprehending how it's like to be free

thoughts corrupting my mind
compulsive actions I do like mime
I ask myself countless of times
is there an end to this
once upon a time?
Lost in my Head Aug 2020
Grow wild
Grow free
Mowed down again
Controlled by what tears you down
Try to fertilize
Cannot stop the blades
I just worry about some folks
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Completing the Pattern
by Michael R. Burch

Walk with me now, among the transfixed dead
who kept life’s compact and who thus endure
harsh sentence here—among pink-petaled beds
and manicured green lawns. The sky’s azure,
pale blue once like their eyes, will gleam blood-red
at last when sunset staggers to the door
of each white mausoleum, to inquire—
"What use, O things of erstwhile loveliness?"

Keywords/Tags: death, sentence, dead, cemetery, graveyard, mausoleum, corpses, manicured, lawn, flowers, pink, petals, blue, sky, red, sunset
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