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I S A A C Apr 2022
succulent heart only needs a couple of drops every few months
cacti are what I have become
adaptive to the inconsistent
search for storms no matter how violent
just to get that sweet sweet drop
just to feel my heart fill fill up
then leave in the flash, leave it in the past
I have no problem moving on
as long as I get my drops
Mark Toney Oct 2019
Sweet, succulent Elberta Peach
It's tell-tale blush within my reach
It's that time of year again
A peach to die for and then
I have to have another,
The ultimate peach, brother!
Sweet, succulent Elberta peach
It's tell-tale blush within my reach
8/8/2018 - Poetry form: Octelle - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
solfang Mar 2019
I killed my cactus,
distressed and helpless;
it'll never survive regardless.

I watered it more than I should,
for some reason it withstood;
as more affection is never no-good,
but intentions are often misunderstood.

one time I changed its ***
and had a second afterthought.
I then changed its soil,
yet I'm stuck in a turmoil.
these weren't the changes I seek,
for I loathe its spines -
so cluttered and bleak.

maybe I should have gotten
a tiny potted succulent,
or plants with stinger;
perhaps I never even had
the green fingers.
I have friends who were stuck in an unconventional relationship - abusive.
they believe they were changing each other for the better but couldn't differentiate their wrongs and rights.
----
side note: was asking opinions on what hobbies I should take up, some friends suggested caring for succulents - told them I couldn't even keep a cactus alive.
Sharon Talbot Aug 2018
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.
Gale L Mccoy Jan 2018
Im a plant
too much sun and I wither
too much shade I wilt
keep me by the window where you work
where the morning sun is filtered through blinds
where you wont always be
but will be consistently enough
place me where you forget me
but remember just enough to smile and water me

I am a succulent
not a hardy cactus
but a rosette
too much attention
too little attention
a drop of water at the wrong time
and im dying
then gone
Cassidy Shoop Feb 2015
an unread book,
a pair of broken headphones,
the shirt of someone who is perfect in my eyes.
a bic lighter,
a glass of water,
a succulent that i could never seem to keep alive.

condensation forms on the surface of the table
as the water begs to bring life back to the plant,
but the lonely plant only speaks of the sun
and the way it desires his light.

— The End —