#compost - Hello Poetry

Nearing great compost pile, that steamy heap, insatiable hunger hits guts. And I know fortitude for journey is contained in wealth of centipedes, predatory mites, rove beetles, ants, nematodes, protozoa, and **** of wriggly worms. Virgil waits for me, as he did Dante. He takes form of a sowbug, but with whole of worldly wisdom. Shows me circles to which I will fall: organic residues, primary consumers, secondary consumers and further tertiary consumers. An ancient pyramid decompositional processes the scaling down before the rising up. Each eating excrement of another before them. One I become with slugs and snails. Invertebrates shred meat from bone. Flies make airborne my bacteria, carrying me off to feed birth of future fungi. I am reborn over and over. Never more have I known anything more Godly. Intestinal juices of earth, enzymes and other fermentation taking me down, pushing me out, transforming trash of my existence back to Eden.

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Mar 25, 2016

Mar 25, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC

pj-poesy

Now I Am Nutrient

Nearing great compost pile, that steamy heap, insatiable hunger hits guts. And I know fortitude for journey is contained in wealth of centipedes, predatory mites, rove beetles, ants, nematodes, protozoa, and **** of wriggly worms. Virgil waits for me, as he did Dante. He takes form of a sowbug, but with whole of worldly wisdom. Shows me circles to which I will fall: organic residues, primary consumers, secondary consumers and further tertiary consumers. An ancient pyramid decompositional processes the scaling down before the rising up. Each eating excrement of another before them. One I become with slugs and snails. Invertebrates shred meat from bone. Flies make airborne my bacteria, carrying me off to feed birth of future fungi. I am reborn over and over. Never more have I known anything more Godly. Intestinal juices of earth, enzymes and other fermentation taking me down, pushing me out, transforming trash of my existence back to Eden.

35

You notice the browning leaves, Early victims, In midsummer Late July and August And they parallel our love Crisping stale edges Edging inward Inward to where growing used to be I blame the sun The sun of truth Blasting unmercifully on our greenness And returning us to the soil Of amorous compost.

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Jul 27, 2014

Jul 27, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC

bob-sterrywt

Love And Sunshine

You notice the browning leaves, Early victims, In midsummer Late July and August And they parallel our love Crisping stale edges Edging inward Inward to where growing used to be I blame the sun The sun of truth Blasting unmercifully on our greenness And returning us to the soil Of amorous compost.

13

I dug ten arthritis pains deep The cool earth's full worth sunk beneath And then. when old Midas gained sleep A pooled corpse pooled forth from its heath And thus revealed the pungent mass Form of twig, thorn, vine, and berry Banana peels and rotting grass Slick earwigs, horned beetles merry En mis jardines de brujos mandaba a los amigos: Formicidae, Armadillidium, Gastropoda, and Annelida all Wake for the feast of the beasts by this call Take of your share where the least of you crawl

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Jun 1, 2016

Jun 1, 2016 at 2:05 AM UTC

anwarhahj

Compost Heap

I dug ten arthritis pains deep The cool earth's full worth sunk beneath And then. when old Midas gained sleep A pooled corpse pooled forth from its heath And thus revealed the pungent mass Form of twig, thorn, vine, and berry Banana peels and rotting grass Slick earwigs, horned beetles merry En mis jardines de brujos mandaba a los amigos: Formicidae, Armadillidium, Gastropoda, and Annelida all Wake for the feast of the beasts by this call Take of your share where the least of you crawl

13

*Cradled in her care, life begins young and fair, Somehow over space and time We seem to know* what's really there, *And when we die we are strewn Like fallen angels made of dead leaves, Around the yard of nature to be raked, No matter what we want to believe, Through all the years that it will take. No matter how far we will traverse, Even with unquestioned religion well rehearsed, Renewed in morning dew, mile after mile, All become the fruit of a compost pile.* But that's not true, is it? Life began with one quick sentence, A crack of light-it must be legit, Moulded clay, a rib from Adam, In the end we all just turn to dust, Hell will freeze over if it must, So you can never ever trust us again, New-age science is just stupidity then.

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Mar 31, 2015

Mar 31, 2015 at 5:49 PM UTC

alan-s-bailey

Discover The Truth

*Cradled in her care, life begins young and fair, Somehow over space and time We seem to know* what's really there, *And when we die we are strewn Like fallen angels made of dead leaves, Around the yard of nature to be raked, No matter what we want to believe, Through all the years that it will take. No matter how far we will traverse, Even with unquestioned religion well rehearsed, Renewed in morning dew, mile after mile, All become the fruit of a compost pile.* But that's not true, is it? Life began with one quick sentence, A crack of light-it must be legit, Moulded clay, a rib from Adam, In the end we all just turn to dust, Hell will freeze over if it must, So you can never ever trust us again, New-age science is just stupidity then.

20

i must hustle cause i’m made of spoil moist rice skin thinly incases soft fluttering organs mucus coated elastic chicken bones run throughout my parcel they prop me doe-ing before the lumy screen (the screen that volunteers us all) emaciating into my work through this communal portal i'll detonate my legend my spirit shall decant and dispel gladly in the world remaining my cadaver will become acclimated and re-meat the soil in an easy spill no longer alienated my work will be utter

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Nov 14, 2022

Nov 14, 2022 at 6:03 AM UTC

neth-jones

project deadline

i must hustle cause i’m made of spoil moist rice skin thinly incases soft fluttering organs mucus coated elastic chicken bones run throughout my parcel they prop me doe-ing before the lumy screen (the screen that volunteers us all) emaciating into my work through this communal portal i'll detonate my legend my spirit shall decant and dispel gladly in the world remaining my cadaver will become acclimated and re-meat the soil in an easy spill no longer alienated my work will be utter

14

Two schools of thought People don’t like the idea of Worms and Bugs crawling Over their dead body It doesn’t matter if you were Physically obese or a hottie Worms opportunity decomposing meat seek Eleven states are already on board Oklahoma voting as we speak This subject is more than just tongue and cheek States proposes when a loved one dies Recycle the body by making compost Before you very eyes if you believe their lies A special container set up in your backyard The news’ rather sketchy, time Frame hard On how long that process took It’s not like it’s an open book My concern is what if somebody did a ***** deed Might this be an opportunity to hide a crime A place to put the dead body turn to slime You can take the compost and spread it over Your garden to nurture the vegetables and fruit And it’s all because of a loved one to boot I know I say this, in jest we’re are the protests Check out what other states find acceptable Examined in Congress what’s permissible? Definitely don’t want to find out after the fact Exactly that loved ones passing is Nothing more than just Compose Gas Diminished sentimental value for green grass Does human compost contain protein? Will compost eliminate the weeds in between Will human compost smell like greenhouse ***** What permits do you need for a compost body? What rules satisfy the home association? Special houses in areas of design designation? How exactly would a realtor list that feature Especially if used creating a compost creature Practical states find a way to store human Waste Human compost accessible or in bad taste Pouring out human compost emotionally hard Would you have one in your backyard? Inspired song Thriller 1982 By Michael Jackson

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Apr 1

Apr 1, 2026 at 1:47 AM UTC

cj-sutherland

Human Compost

Two schools of thought People don’t like the idea of Worms and Bugs crawling Over their dead body It doesn’t matter if you were Physically obese or a hottie Worms opportunity decomposing meat seek Eleven states are already on board Oklahoma voting as we speak This subject is more than just tongue and cheek States proposes when a loved one dies Recycle the body by making compost Before you very eyes if you believe their lies A special container set up in your backyard The news’ rather sketchy, time Frame hard On how long that process took It’s not like it’s an open book My concern is what if somebody did a ***** deed Might this be an opportunity to hide a crime A place to put the dead body turn to slime You can take the compost and spread it over Your garden to nurture the vegetables and fruit And it’s all because of a loved one to boot I know I say this, in jest we’re are the protests Check out what other states find acceptable Examined in Congress what’s permissible? Definitely don’t want to find out after the fact Exactly that loved ones passing is Nothing more than just Compose Gas Diminished sentimental value for green grass Does human compost contain protein? Will compost eliminate the weeds in between Will human compost smell like greenhouse ***** What permits do you need for a compost body? What rules satisfy the home association? Special houses in areas of design designation? How exactly would a realtor list that feature Especially if used creating a compost creature Practical states find a way to store human Waste Human compost accessible or in bad taste Pouring out human compost emotionally hard Would you have one in your backyard? Inspired song Thriller 1982 By Michael Jackson

44

The illusion is shifting again The columns melting stone to blurred sand Kiss the River bed, saturated nutrient flow Estuary, opposites mixing like friends Meeting our ends, meeting our ends The Compost heap rots and withers, In preparation to add to the cycle again The moment is fleeting Gather, pull the light close to your Chin Hold it on the sides of its head And gaze, gaze deeper and deeper again

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May 27, 2020

May 27, 2020 at 9:03 AM UTC

nasa-nick

Gaze Deeper

The illusion is shifting again The columns melting stone to blurred sand Kiss the River bed, saturated nutrient flow Estuary, opposites mixing like friends Meeting our ends, meeting our ends The Compost heap rots and withers, In preparation to add to the cycle again The moment is fleeting Gather, pull the light close to your Chin Hold it on the sides of its head And gaze, gaze deeper and deeper again

11

We rearranged matter with our minds, We made our children our home, There's no singularity, No negative vibes, No distance between us, Just a dream as we walk in the light, Immortal; yet entangled in our dark material world, There's infinite time to learn and move on, We can't hold the matter in our hands, or our hearts, Fear and materiality is not the true reality. Let it go!

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Feb 15, 2021

Feb 15, 2021 at 4:42 PM UTC

Purcy

Children of the light.

We rearranged matter with our minds, We made our children our home, There's no singularity, No negative vibes, No distance between us, Just a dream as we walk in the light, Immortal; yet entangled in our dark material world, There's infinite time to learn and move on, We can't hold the matter in our hands, or our hearts, Fear and materiality is not the true reality. Let it go!

11

The mushrooms in the forest Know more about survival than me They bloom in death And wear it like velvet I tried burying fear in the compost bin It came back fragrant Humming songs I hadn't written yet There's glory in the stink of it Mould carving frescoes in Forgotten bread Worms in the pit of the peach saying "We were here first" I think I love things more Once they start falling apart Makes them honest

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Aug 13, 2025

Aug 13, 2025 at 2:31 AM UTC

Sorelle

The Peach Pit Choir

The mushrooms in the forest Know more about survival than me They bloom in death And wear it like velvet I tried burying fear in the compost bin It came back fragrant Humming songs I hadn't written yet There's glory in the stink of it Mould carving frescoes in Forgotten bread Worms in the pit of the peach saying "We were here first" I think I love things more Once they start falling apart Makes them honest

15

here's to every **** poem i do, have and will write. - thanks for all the fertilizer.

0

Mar 15, 2020

Mar 15, 2020 at 8:00 AM UTC

Laokos

a toast to the compost

here's to every **** poem i do, have and will write. - thanks for all the fertilizer.

6