Kalanchoë, finally you bloom!
Welcome little foreigner,
To the corner of my room.
With frangipani flame
And crocus-gold effulgent.
Strains past succulent skin
Joyous, ebullient!
Though your petals grow
Just to hold it in,
Fiery blood escapes
Past watery blocks of ester-swell
And you exult with me
In a wintry cell.
Dedicated to the first bloom of a pretty plant that feared might never bloom, which finally treated me to one blossom in winter.
Wanderer Jul 29
someone planted a seed of sadness inside of him along time ago
it took root and began to bloom before he even knew
at first he fought it, trying to trim it down, choke it out
but it was tougher than he expected
so he learned to live with it
but each day it grew, its roots reaching to the tips of his toes
it poisoned any joy that tried to reclaim him
he started watering it and caring for it
more than he even did himself
It became so apart of him that he could not separate the two
he no longer wanted it to die
for fear that its death
might kill him
Maxim Keyfman Jul 19
the rain poured down
pours and now
the rain is watering
watered mine
plant
what means
me

the rain poured down
the sun did not shine
but it was all
in an interesting light
everything was around
in the brown light
but from a distance
shone at home
small blue
lights
like lightning
or rain
when love
knocks at the door

the rain poured down
and red colors flew
and the red colors fell
the rain poured down
and numbers people
pronounced
there were windows
many glasses
and thoughts
eternal
and not punched
immortal

19.07.18
Bryce Jul 17
And they are attractive little bunches
Holding themselves together with lightshows and
Hanging over stucco ledges
Until they are replaced
In the dead of night with nobody but the janitor's
Wrinkled gaze
Pruning and yanking
their dry roots
To replace with something new.

The Fibbonacci stories spiral downstairs like infinity
And a reflecting pool looks like the domed firmament of some great sistine

I could see for a moment in my upturned gut
The draw towards infinity that lies at the end of that hollowed mosque
And which holds me firm in trust

There are no stairs, oddly enough
Only a polished high speed elevator
With fancy buttons that light up
And bring us down to ground
Floors that once were above

I stared at my face in between
The metal doors and wondered
When the time would come
For me to be something more
KM Hanslik Jul 15
Your fingernails give away the debris you've collected
I've known you for a while but it feels like longer
feels like sunsets under my tongue
blue bruises behind my eyes
every skip of the needle brings back our old skins &
the hush-hush type of self worth,
keeping pens full of red ink so we can
play the demon in this one instead
of closing the door, we don't wanna gossip
at the edge of the room like strangers,
we wanna be in the center
and your fingerprints look a lot like mine sometimes, especially when we laugh and cry together
especially when you fall asleep and I watch
for soft signs of openmouthed breathing that signal
we are in deeper than we thought.

I can't stand the way you look at yourself though, sometimes I wanna
run away from everyone here
sometimes I wanna just up and leave it all
in a shallow grave where it belongs,
but the moments are softer when you slip my name onto your cotton tongue,
and I don't punch out a pattern for my self loathing quite as quickly when
we tally up our thread counts and what time we have left
together.

Inevitably, I still paint my teeth black,
because words about my future never felt right coming from my pink and purple mouth
but your lips could twist anything up into a lot of sense,
I could kiss you and kill time forever
in parking lots and on the edges of stained mattresses
I didn't ever want a home until I thought of hanging up your colors to dry
keep them here in the niches or
scrawled onto notepads I keep beside my bed,
put down your demon scripts and ask me in the morning
if it takes a while for seeds to grow,
I'll tell you to keep a can of water nearby
and to make sure it's somewhere sunny
I know there's something foreign growing in me and it's
bigger than I've ever been,
but I think maybe you know and
it's bigger than both of us, maybe
you know and
you've been doing some growing, too.
gabriela Jul 4
I started going to counseling this week
because my plants started dying

the roots are all rotted
and the leaves are just slowly eating away at themselves

maybe my roots are rotten too
and I need to fix them before I start eating myself up
a boy to a girl,
Texts sitting across a desk;
love, a potted plant!
You caught my eye,
Yellow Fern,
and you taught me
that dying is
a beautiful thing.
stopdoopy Jul 9
Remember that time
I told you I'd felt
like a plant recently?
I'd gone out
and soaked up some sun
after those dark winter months.
The feeling  is
the same when I think
of seeing you again.
To hear that sparkle of a voice
the light of your touch.
You are radiant,
and I a faithful stalk of green.
not the best but I'm very happy with this piece
Riley June May 23
plant your mind
lose your body
prune your heart
root your soul

harvest your being
blossom to life
flourish into creation
dissolve into nature

wilt from words
droop in sadness
perish in isolation
sink in solace
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