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shuble May 7
the flowers that grow on the trees
look like
muted explosions
but not malicious enough to hurt the eye

the flowers are so tender and soft
and all i can see is nature's true beauty
as the gentle breeze animates the trees

we're standing in my driveway
and it's a vivid spring day

pastel tones tones
swaying lightly in the wind
their sweet fragrance is
only noticeable if you are close

close enough to disregard
the fact that you have allergies and asthma and should
not inhale pollen...

close enough that when you reach out and
touch the branch the impossibly small petals
break free and fall slowly to the ground. . .

close enough that i watch as the petals brush your face
and you are,
for the minute,

at peace.
🌸 cherry blossom trees are so beautiful in the spring, i just had to write a poem about them. 🌸
Simon Apr 8
Everyone is just another flower at heart....
After all, being another flower from everyone else, gives you the most pleasurable specifics in the right place...when you only feel tolerated enough to advance your very cause into the next adventure (that is truly within the smell of the pollen that perfumes the petal like a fragrance that isn't tolerated in it's own self properly). Even when truthfully...it's all about the smell that directs that very such advancing cause forward into the next district of measurable causes (when and only when), you have become finally advanced enough to truly (now and forevermore) surpass the very self (that you once were, only just a few seconds ago, depending on a flowers perception of time itself). Then forecasts it's own weighing measures into even (the next distract of measurable causes) that combines together an even more stronger fragrance that balances correctly, (when and only when) things truly become one with one another.
In any case, those very pleasurable specifics become the very documentary of a flower becoming just... "Another flower."
But is such terms or pleasant metaphors enough for this very emotional written appeals the very abstract piece one is even wanting to read, or even take the time to truly focus on (by concentration, alone)?
Flowers at the end of the day, don't mask their own intentions (when their own petals start falling, because of aging regrets).
It's more of the very already (possible) defining examples that don't let the petals (with emotional appealing problems) that just don't know how to show themselves, properly. After all, when petals fall from a flower, it's probably because they have yet to show their own hidden beauty.
In essence, when you shed the petals, it isn't of the very cause for when seasons change and flowers go to sleep, or end their own lifecycle with the changing of seasonal tides, or even potentially becoming plucked clean by an enforcer at large who see's flowers ugly (because they see themselves as nothing but useless opportunities at large)!
Regardless, when another flower does this, it's because the very first impression comes off as the obvious spectacle of someone hiding their own shame away, for the oncoming tide of self-insecurities that don't give them the very such "open-minded" source needed for the very availability of shooting forward and simply coming out for being who you want too be....
And that is not of just being another flower... But more the result of a flower changing her own ins and outs for being the very tolerant of their own attitude and behavioral willpower at large.
Whatever happens, nothing can prepare (for what just another flower truly is), is for them to be in the very safe regarding hands of their own potentially past self-ridiculing of oneself.
When and only when, those very petals that you have spread your own fragrance (in the form of beautiful pheromones).
Those very same petals will begin again.
Reattaching itself, accordingly.
And then reversing time (as if looking back at a film roll of many sequence of events) that may help you into reversing your own perspective (with time, that is).
In the end, what you really thought was a big deal (once...) Became the very maneuvering ability where you are now ready to begin re-growing those fragile, (yet strong willed) petals at heart.
This is entirely dedicated to someone who (while only talking with them for only for a few moments in time...) They have in a very mutual respect I now have for them and for their own work, (as by how they have completely reflecting on mine in such a positive sense). I want to truly dedicate them with this poem. :)
Everyone who views this, check out "Just Another Flower's" channel.
You won't be disappointed. Thanks!
bubblyflower Apr 2
I stare at the forget-me-not,
You gave it the day you left me,
Why did you leave me?
Why did you abandon us?
I start ripping each petal,
He loves me, he loves me not...
He forgets-me-not.
He loves me.
J Mar 25
I feel like a
toffee rose petal
with touches of the snapdragon blush
brushing into burnt umber
somehow and barely
holding the weight of water droplets
that have built up, piled on, drowned me
from years and years of thunderstorms
and yes, the title is like that for a good reason.
noor Mar 5
you gave me a flower
as it bloomed into a beauty

my flower was beautiful
it shone brightly under the sun
conveying its beauty to everyone

my flower smelled so sweet
that even the honeybees would come around
thinking it was a treat

but soon

the petals on my flower
began to darken

the petals on my flower
began to wilt

and finally

the petals on my flower
fell off
one by one

reminding me that
something so beautiful and sweet

will always be temporary
rotting rose petals
dry and stiff, unsupple
breathless babies breath
pain so unheard and subtle
suffocated, all blue with disgrace

the rose sheds its skin
petals with a green tinge
they’re bent into seashell shapes
it could form the most
fragile and tender, delicate locket
yeah, i can see it, could sell it
cos who else would stock it?
i just hope “blue with disgrace” came across as a clear alternative to “blue in the face”
tia Feb 9
when you grace the garden
i am overfilled with sunlight!
an intense admiration
leaves me with sudden blossoms
of an ever gentle pink...

won't you come closer?
i don't ask of you to be mine
nor for the warmth of your hands
i simply asked to be loved
every now and then...

and when i realize my feelings are one-sided
my appearance falls apart one petal at a time
leaving me to cry among the decay
when the flower is no longer a beauty
what reason do you have to stay?
it can be interpreted as romantic love but i'm not really capable of that
MB Dec 2020
How can one be so carelessly cruel?
To run around a field, picking flower after flower-
not seeing the weeds that have grown
or the flowers you have stepped on.

And I am just a broken petal-
but when you smile at me like that again,
I can forget the bouquet that is in your hand
and let you stomp on me all day
Somehow your sweet lies always work on me
Jordan Gee Aug 2020
love is a symbol
words are symbols twice removed from reality
and they are road signs,
pointers if you will
to that which lies beyond and
between and behind
and you can see it in the light
and Nietzsche saw it in the void and
Hamilton saw it in the venom.
you can see it in the white noise in the Lo-Fi.
you can hear it in the Vajrayana pearls.
drive behind the Diamond vehicle and ride inside
the slip stream.
sit behind the Bon funeral Priests and it says:

“Children of the Hologram - do not make me a martyr.
your kings will make of me an effigy
it will turn the Diamonds into paper but that is not my Will.
you’ll chew on discs of gold and that will be your King.
Children of the Hologram - my words are not my own.
it calls to us from the place of light.
when energy is at rest it is dark and the dark is good and time is a 1000 petal lotus.
at times you’ll encounter evil.
Remember: that is your own self you behold before you.
she is afraid and he is alone and its timepiece is a flat circle and round and round it goes.
only you can see him because only you made her and you made the light in which you see
but images cannot see.”

there are signs
there are those who have been before.
heed their warnings. Feed the Bodhisattva
your kings will burn them and your
kings will make effigies.
Disregard.
Overlook.
look to where the words point
you wrote them
you’ve been here before
there is light coming through the leaves and the branches.
the Japanese have a word for that
22.aug2020
Jacqueline O Aug 2020
A rose's bloom
Nature's kiss
Soft pink petal lips
On the morning glow
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