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nom de plume Oct 7
i ate a four-leaf clover and
consumed its luck, which died in me.
i lied in the quick, quiet field,
killing the grass,
looking to set myself free.
i drank and i drank
from every river, every creek,
my thirst unsatisfied until it had every sea.
my touch burned down forests,
my glance slaughtered meadows,
when climbing and looking for everything, anything,
i killed every tree.

in my quest for satisfaction,
i murdered the sky,
and yet nowhere have i found the fulfillment
i believe key.
thus, starved for complacency,
i continue my fruitless killing spree.
Didda Oct 6
I hear him mention that my greatness is that of a family name
and in that moment I understand I am nothing but a legacy.

And my tears are the vines that climb the deck
and put out his cigarette

and my memories create a storm
and dilate his ***** 'till it is water

-it takes time to see your true magic
My father relates success to my family line. It is meant to be a joke but the narcissism still lies. It leaves an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.
Lily Sep 16
Lovers, forget your quarrels and
Listen to the flower,
The breeze,
The finch’s tune,
And find the love in them.
Breathe
And win the fight within
Yourself
And then, lovers, your
Fight will be
A hundred miles away.
Inspired by Robert Frost's "Wind and Willow Flower"
Emily Sep 11
My roots have rotted.
The soil is dry.
My leaves have crumbled
My petals, fallen.
I am no longer a plant.
I am forgotten.

-3nwlry
They say
Their morning glories have bloomed
With the rise of the sun

The look of a flower that will stay blossomed
The fullness of the flower
Looks to never
Lose that form

A continuation of sweet flavors
and validation
Now asleep
Only asleep
With the rest of the town

Now
With the moon lit
Mine must have
Fallen back asleep

But now there is nothing
No blooming
No whispers of kind comments
nor ear for reciprocation

The space now looking an awful lot
Like when the morning glory was just planted
Like the morning glory was never planted

Was there even a flower to begin with?
I simply don't believe so.

I'd promise to not anticipate it's bloom tomorrow
But I cannot make that promise
- Is it all in my head or is this truly the cycle of this disappointing plant
Diya Sep 6
Do they grow in soil
Or
In
Our
Hearts?
Nature is within us and around us...it is so inspiring!
Apology for not reading your poems...life is not permitting me!
Zywa Sep 5
I'm starting anew,

taking shoots of my life: green –


that I'll pass around.
For Maria Godschalk

Health Care Centre of Our Lady, location East, ward B8

Collection "Different times"
Strung Sep 3
Slowly...
Slowly slowly creeping up the vine
How many ants will die in my lifetime?
How many crave the sun deep below the earth
And care nothing for the vine the mind is telling them to search?
Grapes grown over
Over over over
Crushing wooden posts and stealing sun from most
My watermelon plants.
How many questions circling uselessly...
And how many ants never get the chance
To see the end
Of a daunting, pointless task.
Edith Sep 2
i couldn't be stopped.
rooted in struggle, aimed towards the sun,
set to defy the forces pulling me into the dirt;
i was born to grow.
People are like plants, they need care to live
to survive diseases and die peacefully.
We are looking for someone who will give
us the chance to be treated equally.

© Matthew Harlovic
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