#plough - Hello Poetry

piloted plough tills the plot overturns one season for one of greater potential profit

0

Oct 26, 2022

Oct 26, 2022 at 10:31 AM UTC

neth-jones

01 0000

piloted plough tills the plot overturns one season for one of greater potential profit

4

_We burrow where they lie, our fallen brothers. Old sweats and fledgling crow bags, both. In death as in life, they have our back…and so we plough on into the abyss by the light of a caged phosphorus flare, hot metal spraying the midnight hour like some vengeful fay’s buckshot. A human scaffold supports us for the distance of four miles. That’s Piccadilly to Hampstead; Circus to Heath. The length of a lifetime…of hundreds of lifetimes. In the winter when the rains come and the trenches run like a quartermaster’s latrine, the soil sloughs away to reveal the ossuary within. It is then that I, in my now customary delirium, imagine that I can reach out to shake their hand again._

0

Nov 11, 2020

Nov 11, 2020 at 3:11 PM UTC

annh

They Shall Not Grow Old | 11/11

_We burrow where they lie, our fallen brothers. Old sweats and fledgling crow bags, both. In death as in life, they have our back…and so we plough on into the abyss by the light of a caged phosphorus flare, hot metal spraying the midnight hour like some vengeful fay’s buckshot. A human scaffold supports us for the distance of four miles. That’s Piccadilly to Hampstead; Circus to Heath. The length of a lifetime…of hundreds of lifetimes. In the winter when the rains come and the trenches run like a quartermaster’s latrine, the soil sloughs away to reveal the ossuary within. It is then that I, in my now customary delirium, imagine that I can reach out to shake their hand again._

2

Crippling self doubt plagues my existence. Injecting itself into my blood stream; immobilizing my muscles numbing my tongue and muting my voice box. It quenches its thirst by tearing my self image limb from limb and ploughing my insides till there is nothing left. It either bombards like gunfire inside my head firing flaws into questions or drain each cell's confidence leaving the muscles to shiver and shudder and words hesitant to leave my tongue. My flesh that houses doubt is familiar with every capillary of my insecurity; Whispering my shortcomings and scrutinizing the details that make me, me. It is a constant fight, invisible to the eyes. Internal; it's all in my head.

0

Sep 26, 2018

Sep 26, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC

SabilaSiddiqui

Self Doubt

Crippling self doubt plagues my existence. Injecting itself into my blood stream; immobilizing my muscles numbing my tongue and muting my voice box. It quenches its thirst by tearing my self image limb from limb and ploughing my insides till there is nothing left. It either bombards like gunfire inside my head firing flaws into questions or drain each cell's confidence leaving the muscles to shiver and shudder and words hesitant to leave my tongue. My flesh that houses doubt is familiar with every capillary of my insecurity; Whispering my shortcomings and scrutinizing the details that make me, me. It is a constant fight, invisible to the eyes. Internal; it's all in my head.

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