"bluebottles" poems - Hello Poetry

All year the flax-dam festered in the heart Of the townland; green and heavy headed Flax had rotted there, weighted down by huge sods. Daily it sweltered in the punishing sun. Bubbles gargled delicately, bluebottles Wove a strong gauze of sound around the smell. There were dragon-flies, spotted butterflies, But best of all was the warm thick slobber Of frogspawn that grew like clotted water In the shade of the banks. Here, every spring I would fill jampotfuls of the jellied Specks to range on window-sills at home, On shelves at school, and wait and watch until The fattening dots burst into nimble- Swimming tadpoles. Miss Walls would tell us how The daddy frog was called a bullfrog And how he croaked and how the mammy frog Laid hundreds of little eggs and this was Frogspawn. You could tell the weather by frogs too For they were yellow in the sun and brown In rain. Then one hot day when fields were rank With cowdung in the grass the angry frogs Invaded the flax-dam; I ducked through hedges To a coarse croaking that I had not heard Before. The air was thick with a bass chorus. Right down the dam gross-bellied frogs were cocked On sods; their loose necks pulsed like sails. Some hopped: The slap and plop were obscene threats. Some sat Poised like mud grenades, their blunt heads farting. I sickened, turned, and ran. The great slime kings Were gathered there for vengeance and I knew That if I dipped my hand the spawn would clutch it.

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7.3k

Seamus Heaney

Death Of A Naturalist

All year the flax-dam festered in the heart Of the townland; green and heavy headed Flax had rotted there, weighted down by huge sods. Daily it sweltered in the punishing sun. Bubbles gargled delicately, bluebottles Wove a strong gauze of sound around the smell. There were dragon-flies, spotted butterflies, But best of all was the warm thick slobber Of frogspawn that grew like clotted water In the shade of the banks. Here, every spring I would fill jampotfuls of the jellied Specks to range on window-sills at home, On shelves at school, and wait and watch until The fattening dots burst into nimble- Swimming tadpoles. Miss Walls would tell us how The daddy frog was called a bullfrog And how he croaked and how the mammy frog Laid hundreds of little eggs and this was Frogspawn. You could tell the weather by frogs too For they were yellow in the sun and brown In rain. Then one hot day when fields were rank With cowdung in the grass the angry frogs Invaded the flax-dam; I ducked through hedges To a coarse croaking that I had not heard Before. The air was thick with a bass chorus. Right down the dam gross-bellied frogs were cocked On sods; their loose necks pulsed like sails. Some hopped: The slap and plop were obscene threats. Some sat Poised like mud grenades, their blunt heads farting. I sickened, turned, and ran. The great slime kings Were gathered there for vengeance and I knew That if I dipped my hand the spawn would clutch it.

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heavy air, a body beside me, it's face buried in a pillow, resting the two of us like sprawled starfish on a sea bed of blanket here we lie, centered in our narrow room, a room made bright by the single skylight above, clouded the following forming the soundscape of this moment: - Sam's breath, my breath - a pair of bluebottles buzzing and bumping into the walls - an itch every now and then of sunburned skin, a leg brushing itself against the sheets - a distant Tristan singing songs to his daughter down in the kitchen there is a bucket with sick in it there is a ***** laundry pile there is a red, sun cream stained bikini hanging on the door handle there are two clean, white towels and two holiday cameras: the first's film already finished, the second with a little yet to go Maybe we'll go to the beach Maybe we'll go to the town or discover a new town or ride our bikes out again until we find somewhere just right the day has so much promise and I have so little I have to do but lie here and be grateful for time

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Jun 14, 2023

Jun 14, 2023 at 7:51 AM UTC

pips

Morning in Île de Ré

heavy air, a body beside me, it's face buried in a pillow, resting the two of us like sprawled starfish on a sea bed of blanket here we lie, centered in our narrow room, a room made bright by the single skylight above, clouded the following forming the soundscape of this moment: - Sam's breath, my breath - a pair of bluebottles buzzing and bumping into the walls - an itch every now and then of sunburned skin, a leg brushing itself against the sheets - a distant Tristan singing songs to his daughter down in the kitchen there is a bucket with sick in it there is a ***** laundry pile there is a red, sun cream stained bikini hanging on the door handle there are two clean, white towels and two holiday cameras: the first's film already finished, the second with a little yet to go Maybe we'll go to the beach Maybe we'll go to the town or discover a new town or ride our bikes out again until we find somewhere just right the day has so much promise and I have so little I have to do but lie here and be grateful for time

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Blossoms billow in slow-motion Tender petals sigh to the ground Cushioned upon a sunny breeze And fat bees and lazy bluebottles Are snoring gently Bouncing softly From bloom to gorgeous bloom Glad-ragged and gleaming In their gaudiest glory And neon dragonflies drone Adding to the sonerous chorus As they skim a sweltering pool Where carp break the surface Idly basking in the heat There is a blackbird clarinetting From the top of a nearby tree And high-summer aromas Pervade the shimmering air And, just for this moment Time itself stands still By Phil Roberts

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Feb 12, 2016

Feb 12, 2016 at 3:24 PM UTC

phil-roberts

SUMMER MOMENT

Blossoms billow in slow-motion Tender petals sigh to the ground Cushioned upon a sunny breeze And fat bees and lazy bluebottles Are snoring gently Bouncing softly From bloom to gorgeous bloom Glad-ragged and gleaming In their gaudiest glory And neon dragonflies drone Adding to the sonerous chorus As they skim a sweltering pool Where carp break the surface Idly basking in the heat There is a blackbird clarinetting From the top of a nearby tree And high-summer aromas Pervade the shimmering air And, just for this moment Time itself stands still By Phil Roberts

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Braving lapses in neon dreams You don’t like the look of air max 90’s Besotted language intercepted not digested The babble of youths who don’t talk correctly Basking loosely in nonchalant demise The **** on the floor, what a mess Buttoned lips insinuating nothing decisive You are hard eyed from men outside the pub, you look away at Bluebottles lying inside neatly dead Get me off this ******* bus. Black lines, interrupting nothing deep Why always black and never red Broad landscapes intrude narrowness, delicately But you close your eyes and hum the cure Breaking laughter, ignorant nuisances drain I wish they all were quiet and tame Berating loud intuitive noises, djembe Banging hands against the glass Banging, lightning, ignored, deleted There’s a fight going on, you will stay seated Buried liquidized imagery, naturally dancing The reflection of drama in a window behind you Because listening is not done You think about dinner and where you will buy it Because light is no fun You again close your eyes and think about home Busy lovers inseparable never daring You enjoy your thoughts Being left in near darkness You enjoy your thoughts Watching interesting things happen Eventually yelping even shouting trill howls After the watch, offset retina kicks

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Mar 28, 2013

Mar 28, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC

bg-hermitt

Bus

Braving lapses in neon dreams You don’t like the look of air max 90’s Besotted language intercepted not digested The babble of youths who don’t talk correctly Basking loosely in nonchalant demise The **** on the floor, what a mess Buttoned lips insinuating nothing decisive You are hard eyed from men outside the pub, you look away at Bluebottles lying inside neatly dead Get me off this ******* bus. Black lines, interrupting nothing deep Why always black and never red Broad landscapes intrude narrowness, delicately But you close your eyes and hum the cure Breaking laughter, ignorant nuisances drain I wish they all were quiet and tame Berating loud intuitive noises, djembe Banging hands against the glass Banging, lightning, ignored, deleted There’s a fight going on, you will stay seated Buried liquidized imagery, naturally dancing The reflection of drama in a window behind you Because listening is not done You think about dinner and where you will buy it Because light is no fun You again close your eyes and think about home Busy lovers inseparable never daring You enjoy your thoughts Being left in near darkness You enjoy your thoughts Watching interesting things happen Eventually yelping even shouting trill howls After the watch, offset retina kicks

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Blossoms billow in slow-motion Tender petals sigh to the ground Cushioned upon a sunny breeze And fat bees and lazy bluebottles Are snoring gently Bouncing softly From bloom to gorgeous bloom Glad-ragged and gleaming In their gaudiest glory And neon dragonflies drone Adding to the sonerous chorus As they skim a sweltering pool Where carp break the surface Idly basking in the heat There is a blackbird clarinetting From the top of a nearby tree And high-summer aromas Pervade the shimmering air And, just for this moment Time itself stands still By Phil Roberts

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Apr 12, 2016

Apr 12, 2016 at 8:39 AM UTC

phil-roberts

A SUMMER MOMENT

Blossoms billow in slow-motion Tender petals sigh to the ground Cushioned upon a sunny breeze And fat bees and lazy bluebottles Are snoring gently Bouncing softly From bloom to gorgeous bloom Glad-ragged and gleaming In their gaudiest glory And neon dragonflies drone Adding to the sonerous chorus As they skim a sweltering pool Where carp break the surface Idly basking in the heat There is a blackbird clarinetting From the top of a nearby tree And high-summer aromas Pervade the shimmering air And, just for this moment Time itself stands still By Phil Roberts

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Blossoms billow in slow-motion Tender petals sigh to the ground Cushioned upon a sunny breeze And fat bees and lazy bluebottles Are snoring gently Bouncing softly From bloom to gorgeous bloom Glad-ragged and gleaming In their gaudiest glory And neon dragonflies drone Adding to the sonerous chorus As they skim a sweltering pool Where carp break the surface Idly basking in the heat There is a blackbird clarinetting From the top of a nearby tree And high-summer aromas Pervade the shimmering air And, just for this moment Time itself stands still By Phil Roberts

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Jun 20, 2017

Jun 20, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC

phil-roberts

A SUMMER MOMENT

Blossoms billow in slow-motion Tender petals sigh to the ground Cushioned upon a sunny breeze And fat bees and lazy bluebottles Are snoring gently Bouncing softly From bloom to gorgeous bloom Glad-ragged and gleaming In their gaudiest glory And neon dragonflies drone Adding to the sonerous chorus As they skim a sweltering pool Where carp break the surface Idly basking in the heat There is a blackbird clarinetting From the top of a nearby tree And high-summer aromas Pervade the shimmering air And, just for this moment Time itself stands still By Phil Roberts

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It Girl, Pierced **** girl, ****** as a jaywalking crow With bluebottles for eyes. I can see your billion goosebumps, Your skin dragging at Your perfume. You’re not beautiful, But girl - You Are It.

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Dec 29, 2013

Dec 29, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC

a-mareship

it

It Girl, Pierced **** girl, ****** as a jaywalking crow With bluebottles for eyes. I can see your billion goosebumps, Your skin dragging at Your perfume. You’re not beautiful, But girl - You Are It.

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Blossoms billow in slow-motion Tender petals sigh to the ground Cushioned upon a sunny breeze And fat bees and lazy bluebottles Are snoring gently Bouncing softly From bloom to gorgeous bloom Glad-ragged and gleaming In their gaudiest glory And neon dragonflies drone Adding to the sonerous chorus As they skim a sweltering pool Where carp break the surface Idly basking in the heat There is a blackbird clarinetting From the top of a nearby tree And high-summer aromas Pervade the shimmering air And, just for this moment Time itself stands still By Phil Roberts

0

Aug 15, 2015

Aug 15, 2015 at 6:21 AM UTC

phil-roberts

A SUMMER MOMENT

Blossoms billow in slow-motion Tender petals sigh to the ground Cushioned upon a sunny breeze And fat bees and lazy bluebottles Are snoring gently Bouncing softly From bloom to gorgeous bloom Glad-ragged and gleaming In their gaudiest glory And neon dragonflies drone Adding to the sonerous chorus As they skim a sweltering pool Where carp break the surface Idly basking in the heat There is a blackbird clarinetting From the top of a nearby tree And high-summer aromas Pervade the shimmering air And, just for this moment Time itself stands still By Phil Roberts

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We're just friends from school You think we're star-crossed lovers Telling me we are meant to have children together In a field of bluebottles and bluebonnets It's like I'm speaking in nonets To try to get to you I would hate to ice your heart But you can't tell anything apart By telling me your unyielding love when you have a Man already There is no chance of us going steady There's plenty Of other men who will become enticed by your ways Even If we were to be one We would become aged and you'd throw me away For a more seemingly attractive man Trust me, I know your entire plan Don't get mad when I try to be with other women Loyalty has me smitten Your affection seems like a piton And I won't fall into it Honey, I hate to sever your ports But I'm ending the eternal distort That'll we'll be Because I know truly You won't want to be with me Until the day I die This isn't a blues poem, this is the truth If you can be strong enough to cope With this reality You're more then welcome to watch from the sidelines But don't you dare violate the guidelines.

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Dec 15, 2017

Dec 15, 2017 at 9:04 PM UTC

peter-r-hamilton

This Isn't A Blues Poem

We're just friends from school You think we're star-crossed lovers Telling me we are meant to have children together In a field of bluebottles and bluebonnets It's like I'm speaking in nonets To try to get to you I would hate to ice your heart But you can't tell anything apart By telling me your unyielding love when you have a Man already There is no chance of us going steady There's plenty Of other men who will become enticed by your ways Even If we were to be one We would become aged and you'd throw me away For a more seemingly attractive man Trust me, I know your entire plan Don't get mad when I try to be with other women Loyalty has me smitten Your affection seems like a piton And I won't fall into it Honey, I hate to sever your ports But I'm ending the eternal distort That'll we'll be Because I know truly You won't want to be with me Until the day I die This isn't a blues poem, this is the truth If you can be strong enough to cope With this reality You're more then welcome to watch from the sidelines But don't you dare violate the guidelines.

31

Forget our inglorious isolation, Hiding away from terrors unseen. I see a golden Forsythia Outside my window. Sunny daffodils and little blue flowers Of unknown name. Bushes are budding And turning green. Bluebottles and bees have been buzzing As birds flock about Flipper flapping everywhere. A barren, frozen desert Is being transformed Little by little. We still have biting winds Just now But in the fullness of time Warmer climes will re-assert themselves. For summer is coming As it always does. No worldly woes will stop it, Nor they ever will. Nature has endless patience And determination. Sudden Spring is but the start Of better days. Believe it. Paul Butters © PB 29\3\2020.

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Mar 29, 2020

Mar 29, 2020 at 7:55 AM UTC

paul-butters

Spring Springs Back

Forget our inglorious isolation, Hiding away from terrors unseen. I see a golden Forsythia Outside my window. Sunny daffodils and little blue flowers Of unknown name. Bushes are budding And turning green. Bluebottles and bees have been buzzing As birds flock about Flipper flapping everywhere. A barren, frozen desert Is being transformed Little by little. We still have biting winds Just now But in the fullness of time Warmer climes will re-assert themselves. For summer is coming As it always does. No worldly woes will stop it, Nor they ever will. Nature has endless patience And determination. Sudden Spring is but the start Of better days. Believe it. Paul Butters © PB 29\3\2020.

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