#minerals
Bleed me like the root
that burns sins away.
Find me green with envy
along the Mica veins.
Sermons over tiny crescents,
Jack-in-the-pulpit given.
Ghostpipe smoking
with incense risen.
-
Fern's red flower.
Trumpets, devil played.
Creeping by the hour,
Periwinkle's struggle inlaid.
Spirals, the vine choking,
Birch witnessed it all.
An elongated anticipation
before the king snake's fall.
Jan 14, 2025
Jan 14, 2025 at 3:18 PM UTC
Eyes of anthracite, ignite-
Fuel for my waning spirit
Food for my hungry soul.
Her rays mirrored sunlight,
And I, a humble acolyte:
Happily dirtying myself to worship coal.
The decades of pressure
Stifling in leisure, tiny slivers of pleasure.
Harsh force of demand.
Idle gem, form of a diamond:
Unaware of her own worth.
How often, is ignorance our ruin
And ourselves, our own undoing.
To eat our own words:
How it hurts
Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 4:36 PM UTC
Though is the granite
And smooth is the soil within
All matter is condensed in one
All is in motion
All in the dark
The circle must remain perfect
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 2:43 PM UTC
Setting stones in your pockets to get your mind down to Earth
Skipping rocks over water to watch them sink one last time
Scaling cliffs just to watch the valleys from up high
The physical minerals of this world remind us of the things within ourselves that we choose to avoid
The vitamins we lack from touch of rays because sun equates to happiness and knowledge. And we put it off for the next day
That's why the physicians always tell us to watch our vitamins and minerals
We are malnourished in interactions. Nature being the physical aspect we use to forget about the inside.
At least for the moment
Until we choose to live healthily.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 9:51 PM UTC
After all this compression, perhaps I am becoming something after all. Crawling away from my potential worth I feel myself writhing my way from between the rocks, taking quick, shallow breaths —learning to breathe again after all this time. Each inhale still feels heavy and constricted, and every exhale still brings a sense of dread for the rise and fall of my chest but I am moving forward. Even relieved, my ribcage is adjusting painfully to the freedom, coping with more lung space; a gift I received from you.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 11:37 AM UTC