#bushes
ticket to the train station
tempted to train my motivation
singing swan songs for my salvation
toking for a moments vacation, coaching vocation
warp the world around my thumb
sway to the beats of my drum
angels pick me up, scared to become
all the things i have been ashamed of
iridescent sparkles that were judged as vain
steady shovelling the **** shaving down the over grown bushes
the path was there all along; i see her now
what the **** was i even doing
Apr 11, 2023
Apr 11, 2023 at 12:29 PM UTC
not a bird in earsight,
but the wind is quite insistent
as the leaves rustle and chatter in
conversation every instant
the sky is blue, the sun elsewhere
your eyes are dry, face bare.
the clouds are few but lazy as ever!
hope to stand and watch forever,
the perfect wind that flips your hair but it's
welcome as home, the
silence that fills your head with talk.
a beautiful day!
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 3:49 PM UTC
The leaves that are attached to a tree, slowly moving from the wind that is blowing softly.
Leaves whom we do not think before we take their lives just by taking them away from their home, a tree or a bush.
The texture on the front and behind, deep and lime foresty green, the vessels that are highlighted by the Sun.
All they give is a simple thing to keep us alive,
air to breath.
And what do we give them in return?
No ability to grow forever, no ability to just, live.
We cut them down.
That's "thanks." to them.
Not all people hate nature or dislike it in any way, or even don't cherish it and protect it, but there are some who don't
care about its beauty and its power.
Trees, flowers, bushes, grass, they all do the same.
We only keep them alive by watering them or the rain waters them, or we simply like every human being, breath in return for
them.
Only a few realize that nature is so important and the only way to keep it alive is to protect it, but are we really,
the ones who must protect it?
It is now, but it will not be forever.
Nature lives with us now, but it can also live without us.
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
...
..
.
poetical noose notches
red marks left on my neck
she swallowed me there
she
is
still
choking
just
listen
to her
moaning
moans
of
alone
my night here
day
as
anywhere
sung cat whiskers
dogs ain't got my nerves
fire hydrant
yellow
stains
caution blew
it
could never
out blow
glue
that glue that stuck
me yo you
this mind alteration
words never mine
still they have
been
taken
all the paths
of
muse
as you
have
known
through
my past
has grown
own taught
cut myself
loose
from
this
poetical noose
?
...
..
.
.
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 7:01 AM UTC
Wandering
not lost because only those
who choose to be lost
are the ones who feel most free.
Wondering
not found because those who
find themselves stranded on mountains
peaks that steep with cliffs
so brief they threaten to
collapse the body with snow.
But dirt tends to cling
to those who dare
themselves to fall
hitting pine trees
and mulberry bushes
hearing buzzing bees
and small white thrushes.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 3:40 AM UTC
I burdened you, did I not?
Told you things I thought you'd hear,
In the wind, in whispers from the woods
Nobody told you, but I did.
Vaguely I burdened you.
And you were lonely, I tell you so much,
In ways I don't fathom, shallow diving me.
Weird fishes nibble bones, weird stories take your love for me,
Rumours, rumours, grow like weeds,
Weeds, weeds grow as bushes between us.
So we sit on lawns of cut relationships,
Each blade a sharp reminder,
Of friends we never made,
We grew, didn't we? Like stalks of flowers that never dreamt of being trees,
But sometimes,
I see the yellow of your kiss across the garden hedge.
We never bore such fruit apart.
So sitting, so kneeling,
So waiting till time makes us desperate enough to try again,
I move pragmatic pieces, and play games that think of you
I spell your name, in footsteps I take in the wrong direction,
But it's only wrong to you,
We're only wrong for each other,
Why should that mean we can't love?
Why does that mean we don't talk?
Not through rumours.
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
Buzzzzzzzzz
they come here for the flowers to get some juice
A man hiding in the bushes as
scaring from the bees
Buzzing in ears,
Buzzzzzzzzzzz
As they fly by the garden
windmill hide them in the bushes
As they,
buzzing with energy all around me
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 11:58 PM UTC
"How does a flower move"
When wind does not blow,
Stalk
Petals
Pollen
Released, sprinkled
Upon the ground below,
Does it dance for the sun
Energy
Food
Nourishment
From above and below
People ask
"How does a flower move"
"When wind does not blow"
"Simple"
Its worms tickling its
Gentle roots, many tickling in one go,
Its pollen falling is its laughter
Seeding the floor below
So when you see
Trees
Bushes
Flowers
Gyrating, moving with out wind,
Know its those naughty playful worms
Slithering, tickling there sensitive roots below..
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC
You're the answer I hear
when learning misbehaves
friendship running off around hedges
with rounded edges
calling me to figure out the facts
behind neatly pruned leaves
learning what is covered
when they cease
to scatter and dodge
I follow the delectable hints
to where the giggles grow
louder now I'm led toward
your near indecent scent
the flowers in the borders
wriggle with unbound glee
whilst love hides with held breath
in hidden indents
you dare to press up close
against an idle post
where radiance warms
to a chance find in prospect
expectant that your dalliance
will escape my notice
but I see it blooming in pupils
where love's not faked
I find you on a hunch
in the midst of hesitations
when I tease the bush
apart like two explaining pages
opening answering lips
brimming with wild questions
each kiss a knowing release
to lush and flowing fields
that day that friendship faced
the truth of love's sweet tutelage
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 1:16 AM UTC
*On a bright and delightful Easter morning
A furry white rabbit, wiggled her pink adorable nose
Peeking through lush bushes
In a lovely and distinctive pose
And jiggled her cottony soft scut
Aiming into a vegetation
On this sunny day
With so much motivation
Quietly hopping into a blissful garden
Placing decorative filled eggs in pastels
With little time to rest
As she quickly inhales
Adding vibrant colours, to an emerald spiky blanket
And into a rainbow of unfolding tulips
Enlightening her way, like a dazzling carnival
For little peeps enjoyment, upon soft winds movement
Beginning in the latter daylight hours, as tots of all ages
Eagerly carried empty interwoven baskets, on their quest
Pacing through, as in peekaboo
And observing who competes the best*
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC