#coop - Hello Poetry

Mount Fuji obscures chicken-based tests conceal coop's top-notch t-rex flight assumes reveal scopes' Giant Robot outcomes: Buckethead's creativity nested Japan mounted ingenuity BucketheadLand's productivity ahead bucketbots' renowned enemy... wicked! Chickencoopscope made, bucket englobed goal fate, ideas parts perpetuum upgrade ignites bucketbots' graphic date KFC EMPLOYEES ON A PLASTIC PLATE!

0

Nov 30, 2024

Nov 30, 2024 at 4:36 AM UTC

bucketb0t

Chickencoopscope

Mount Fuji obscures chicken-based tests conceal coop's top-notch t-rex flight assumes reveal scopes' Giant Robot outcomes: Buckethead's creativity nested Japan mounted ingenuity BucketheadLand's productivity ahead bucketbots' renowned enemy... wicked! Chickencoopscope made, bucket englobed goal fate, ideas parts perpetuum upgrade ignites bucketbots' graphic date KFC EMPLOYEES ON A PLASTIC PLATE!

11

Outside, a haze of mist pins the cold to the ground. Moving through it gathers the moisture on my brow and it drips, so slowly that it gathers the heat and salt from my skin and it feels familiar, as familiar as my own tears. So familiar is it that it's almost a comfort and I do not wipe them from my cheeks. The heavy air muffles sounds, transporting me back to my childhood when broken ears muddled every note, and I am lulled, my walk sways, my coat warms, and the slow shuffle through grass in my worn, leather boots, becomes as comforting as the gentle undulation of a rocking chair or a mother's womb. A healthy musk wafts upwards when my boots cut through the hay on the floor of the coop, and the content clucking of the hens encourages me, my hands rooting through the wood shavings, and there they are, smooth and shaped to perfection, the rich brown that makes my stomach grumble in anticipation. I place my treasures in the folds of my skirts, and turn to leave, sighing as I acquiesce to a return to a harsher realm, far beyond my dear, grey faery world, with lichen-covered tree bark, and wordless creatures for company.

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Jan 19, 2018

Jan 19, 2018 at 6:52 PM UTC

emily-miller-1

Egg-Gathering

Outside, a haze of mist pins the cold to the ground. Moving through it gathers the moisture on my brow and it drips, so slowly that it gathers the heat and salt from my skin and it feels familiar, as familiar as my own tears. So familiar is it that it's almost a comfort and I do not wipe them from my cheeks. The heavy air muffles sounds, transporting me back to my childhood when broken ears muddled every note, and I am lulled, my walk sways, my coat warms, and the slow shuffle through grass in my worn, leather boots, becomes as comforting as the gentle undulation of a rocking chair or a mother's womb. A healthy musk wafts upwards when my boots cut through the hay on the floor of the coop, and the content clucking of the hens encourages me, my hands rooting through the wood shavings, and there they are, smooth and shaped to perfection, the rich brown that makes my stomach grumble in anticipation. I place my treasures in the folds of my skirts, and turn to leave, sighing as I acquiesce to a return to a harsher realm, far beyond my dear, grey faery world, with lichen-covered tree bark, and wordless creatures for company.

33

Disjointed and ajar I left the windows to my reality too far open for far too long and the judgements got in the doubts collected the inflicted pain pooled puddling at my feet and somewhere along the way you flew the coop leaving me stuck sitting there with cement shoes on that I never could get off again Feb., 2017

0

Feb 16, 2017

Feb 16, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC

-richard-j-treitner

Earthbound

Disjointed and ajar I left the windows to my reality too far open for far too long and the judgements got in the doubts collected the inflicted pain pooled puddling at my feet and somewhere along the way you flew the coop leaving me stuck sitting there with cement shoes on that I never could get off again Feb., 2017

14