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"foxgloves" poems
Are acceptance and approval synonymous terms? It is important that we give adequate definition to that which blocks our winding garden path, where foxgloves, lupins and a multitude of botanical dreams can blossom into a gorgeous array of ****** captivation. If we embrace that which is repugnant, then possibility may not be confined to the cradling arms of the mistress of death. So, my judgmental and moralistic companion from the sands of Jupiter – if your daughter is a raunchy stripper, then keep your expectations on the leash and preserve your anthropological connectedness, otherwise you may veer into prickly thorns of certain detriment and thereby lose her attachments. It is incumbent upon us to nourish those fragrant plantations with a careful approach, so that beautiful reproductions will abound in a bouquet of resolution.
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Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
Floral Psychology
As a child, they could not keep me from wells And old pumps with buckets and windlasses. I loved the dark drop, the trapped sky, the smells Of waterweed, fungus and dank moss. One, in a brickyard, with a rotted board top. I savoured the rich crash when a bucket Plummeted down at the end of a rope. So deep you saw no reflection in it. A shallow one under a dry stone ditch Fructified like any aquarium. When you dragged out long roots from the soft mulch A white face hovered over the bottom. Others had echoes, gave back your own call With a clean new music in it. And one Was scaresome, for there, out of ferns and tall Foxgloves, a rat slapped across my reflection. Now, to pry into roots, to finger slime, To stare, big-eyed Narcissus, into some spring Is beneath all adult dignity. I rhyme To see myself, to set the darkness echoing.
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4.7k
Personal Helicon
The swallow of summer, she toils all the summer, A blue-dark knot of glittering voltage, A whiplash swimmer, a fish of the air. But the serpent of cars that crawls through the dust In shimmering exhaust Searching to slake Its fever in ocean Will play and be idle or else it will bust. The swallow of summer, the barbed harpoon, She flings from the furnace, a rainbow of purples, Dips her glow in the pond and is perfect. But the serpent of cars that collapsed on the beach Disgorges its organs A scamper of colours Which roll like tomatoes Nude as tomatoes With sand in their creases To cringe in the sparkle of rollers and screech. The swallow of summer, the seamstress of summer, She scissors the blue into shapes and she sews it, She draws a long thread and she knots it at the corners. But the holiday people Are laid out like wounded Flat as in ovens Roasting and basting With faces of torment as space burns them blue Their heads are transistors Their teeth grit on sand grains Their lost kids are squalling While man-eating flies Jab electric shock needles but what can they do? They can climb in their cars with raw bodies, raw faces And start up the serpent And headache it homeward A car full of squabbles And sobbing and stickiness With sand in their crannies Inhaling petroleum That pours from the foxgloves While the evening swallow The swallow of summer, cartwheeling through crimson, Touches the honey-slow river and turning Returns to the hand stretched from under the eaves - A boomerang of rejoicing shadow.
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Work and Play
The swallow of summer, she toils all the summer, A blue-dark knot of glittering voltage, A whiplash swimmer, a fish of the air. But the serpent of cars that crawls through the dust In shimmering exhaust Searching to slake Its fever in ocean Will play and be idle or else it will bust. The swallow of summer, the barbed harpoon, She flings from the furnace, a rainbow of purples, Dips her glow in the pond and is perfect. But the serpent of cars that collapsed on the beach Disgorges its organs A scamper of colours Which roll like tomatoes Nude as tomatoes With sand in their creases To cringe in the sparkle of rollers and screech. The swallow of summer, the seamstress of summer, She scissors the blue into shapes and she sews it, She draws a long thread and she knots it at the corners. But the holiday people Are laid out like wounded Flat as in ovens Roasting and basting With faces of torment as space burns them blue Their heads are transistors Their teeth grit on sand grains Their lost kids are squalling While man-eating flies Jab electric shock needles but what can they do? They can climb in their cars with raw bodies, raw faces And start up the serpent And headache it homeward A car full of squabbles And sobbing and stickiness With sand in their crannies Inhaling petroleum That pours from the foxgloves While the evening swallow The swallow of summer, cartwheeling through crimson, Touches the honey-slow river and turning Returns to the hand stretched from under the eaves - A boomerang of rejoicing shadow.
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the foxgloves explode in infinite slow motion [silently] from them also we can learn the soft crash and save ourselves from the genius suicide: the brief fame of a supernova … intermittent rain keeps the land fecund, a deluge cleanses to the bedrock, rain in perpetuity is impossible and we think we can control this but we live at one speed, and measure in standard units: our language is insufficient to give a precise reflection … to assume our laws are true beyond appeal puts into question our democratic process we forget the necessity of conversation the original Greek ideal of the agora; to meet friends and argue is the point, is it not, of life, of all this noise, after all, what use is silence? … our luxury of having the exercise of our conscience is subsidised by the suffering of a multitude other ..and yet when we all speak with one language / currency / voice there is no poetry anymore no rhyme, no metre, no form in this Heaven only, [on Earth], we are united
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Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
"What Heaven will see us reunited?"
lonely lonely, you leave me so, inside out watching the stars burn out in an emptying of cosmic sorrow.. and tomorrow I know the sun will smile at me your kisses will taste like honey and the birds will romance me with slaughtered butterflies and sweet lamentation. But today, I've been tuning radio static to white noise and flashes of Chopin, trying to recreate a feeling from shadows and memory. don't leave me lonely, dear, make love to me in the hypnagogic stare of the rising sun. play me soft as buttercups and foxgloves; piannissimo, gentle as death's watchful eye.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 12:19 AM UTC
piannissimo
The cup gleams gold in the light Golden liquid overflowing Round bowl on a slender stem. On the table beside it are apples. Red, yellow, glowing, Globed sunlight bursting with juice. Outside in the meadow, the cows Brown and white, gentle eyed, lowing, As the calf pushes and pulls on the **** Staggers a little and suckles. Warm milk for the jug. A blue and white bowl holds the cream. Blue and white is the sky above Brown and deep the buzzing of bees Making the foxgloves bend and bow Under the coolness of trees Where the earth holds the richness of leaves And the bones of the ancestors rest In the land of the ever blessed.
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 9:56 AM UTC
Bountiful West
I remember July Hot morning watering foxgloves Waking up to dreams, Falling asleep to dreams. I remember July. Envied or loved, by all who laid eyes. I'll always remember July. But now misty marshy October Has taken over, Watering the foxgloves for me. But their colors no longer gleam, In the rain. In the rain, I'll always remember July. Where everyday was a dream, For a short sweet while July, July, July.
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Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 11:05 AM UTC
July part 2
You are toxic You are the poison running through my veins Suffocating my every breath You are my poison ivy Itching with every step I take You are the beautiful purple foxgloves Appearing so gentle on the outside But so dangerous on the inside You are the chemicals that react And make my life a living hell You are toxic to the touch And you know I cannot help But to crave this pain you cause me
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Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
Toxic
i see the petunias , lilacs and forsythia. the tomatoes , strawberries, grapes and pine cones and the squirrels in my garden and i know God is there and He brings me gifts of flowers and sunshine and butterflies and hummingbirds and sweet, sweet air and i know God is there He lets me play in the garden my garden is my art He brings me lilies and daisies and asters marigolds and sweet alyssum ...memories from grandmas a magnolia and butterfly bushes from my sons foxgloves from a time spent with my precious friend and bittersweet geraniums... memories of my mama's grave... cj 2016
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May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC
my secret garden
The morning brings the moths her cupboard bare, she attempts to prise the day what to wear? snatching thoughts all is  balance nasturtiums or foxgloves, crumbling trellis stakes she wraps a blanket around herself and sits in the garden , guarding motionless
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May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Joanne's outdoors
The spirochetes of the ages embellish themselves in a mystical quartet, as our respirations reverberate across sanctimonious plateaus of Oedipus and Electra complexes. Your celestial convictions are tasteful as they wistfully meander through the fuselage of hydrangea bushes and ***** foxgloves. I can feel the beat of your apprehensive pulse. As we applaud the demise of this psychological stage-show, where connected separations unravel their shameful mysteries into a vortex of deluded academia; it is evident when someone communicates deep convictions across pulsating swamps of cosmological hemispheres. So, as we merge into this cataclysmic vortex of enshrinement, let us embrace the past understanding of future ambivalence where the beginning can only be understood within the context of the end.
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May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC
The Developmental Paradox of Astral Travel
* *❃ Hear the hush of the wind dance above Through lush lands of green eagerly spread Birds soar and swoop, butterflies kiss foxgloves Laughter rings wherever humans tread ◦•●◉✿ ⚜❃⚜ ✿◉●•◦ Through lush lands of green eagerly spread As glass blades sway soft and sweet Laughter rings wherever humans tread On nature's palm, they openly meet ◦•●◉✿ ⚜❃⚜ ✿◉●•◦ As glass blades sway soft and sweet Birdsong heard near and far On nature's palm, they openly meet A simple serenade to forget life's scars ❃* *
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Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 12:39 PM UTC
Nature's Serenade
Bohemian dichotomies are like winding garden paths, where foxgloves and lupins stand proudly with a rich array of botanical flamboyance. What is the structure of this pervasive uncertainty, where conspiracy is a perpetual construct which is designed to interfere with anthropological cohesion? Consider the presence of a mature apple tree, where doves abide in ornithological matrimony. Let us humbly acknowledge that nature is a powerful beautician, who expels her adversities with gentle ruthlessness. Let us kiss together amidst this romantic pasture of nostalgic permission.
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:03 PM UTC
Flittering Perspectives
The still English heat, The ***** promise of July the 1st Leaves the grass a mottled yellow And the dappled shade of the purple birch Almost holy. Specks of precise and glittering pollen Rest upon beds of browning foxgloves. Cats are left collapsed, Blissed out, lulled into dreams of this motionless sun shining forever. I feel your hands in my stomach And I'm hungry for your grip As the hot sky only ripens My daydreams of your laugh. The thick scent of withering hyacinth Is the curve of your back, the taste of your sweat. A stain of certainty is baked in By July the 1st. Novocain for my infected English heart. Whispering the start of a love that will be kicking leaves through October And sharing warmth through December.
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Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
July 1st
I love my sister dearly she lives with me at home She helps me with the stress of life so I don't have to on my own She parts clouds Makes the sky blue Then to ease my pain more adds a soft cloud or two She's building a beautiful garden filled with hollihocks, foxgloves and such It has an outdoor bathroom that I will enjoy very much She helps keep me grounded my feet firmly on the ground Keeps the dark clouds away While to my life I'm bound
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May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 4:52 AM UTC
Sister
I wish I wasn’t so good at overcoming struggles. I wish I could fall apart just once and not be able to put the pieces back the way I found them. Oh, how I wish I could feed my pain and let it grow into the garden I bury myself in. Now that.. that would be impressive.
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 12:15 AM UTC
foxgloves and peppermint
You know apart from writing poetry I design gardens for other people just as an unpaid sideline But come and take a look in my garden. Rough laid brick edging round the lawn and I do mean rough you wont see a dead straight line there Flowers, hot oranges intermingled with reds and gold No Plants carefully chosen for form and texture No Rather a jumble of wild and cultivated plants doing their own thing White campion, red campion intermingle with white and yellow daisies Scarlet poppies vie for space with rosebay willow herb Sage and thymes in profusion Great clumps of lemon balm mixed in with chives and lavenders Foxgloves and hollyhocks in places they shouldnt be Wild mallows and geraniums growing where they choose And running wild my favourites of the flower world nasturtiums That then is my garden, my retreat, my oasis of calm
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Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
My Garden
I lay close to you, Curled to the shape of your stonework body Tracing the vines crawling on your arms To the lavenders springing From your cracked palms And your back is the meadow I bury myself in Half-picking foxgloves and goldenrods Growing on your spine Day after day, I watch you Wondering about the dreams behind Your eyelids covered in moss, Softly kissing the dandelion dust Collecting on your cheeks While stringing a garland of daisies To wear around your head I sit here, longing to taste the dewdrops Hanging at the corners of your mouth But until your wake, I will await The sweet honeysuckle That is your tongue
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Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 11:34 PM UTC
Sleeping God
As we walk, You tell me that the silt from the river has built up over the years creating a new bank with flowers and plants making the best of the rich soil. As you speak, I note the sound of your voice and wish I could sink in and grow like the foxgloves in the mud.
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Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 6:47 AM UTC
Foxgloves
(I wrote you most days from the rainforest floor)                                                                            This is where the                        moss was                                                                                                                                                                                and they were too I am out of touch and missing all at once                                 unable to get back to the surface swimming next to a blue flame glowing ectoplasm glitters the tour guide is a woman’s voice       under the stars and everything concave is inside out     far away from what it once was,                                                                                           uninverted happy is the uncertain                     I looked for you in the chrysalis       and you                                                                                were still wearing                                                                                           your socks                                                                   when you disappeared I found them in my drawer three days later      tucked themselves in still covered in glitter from the caves I had so many questions when I reached out my hands stuck to the walls and swallowed my palm                                                               silicone and retreating light it wanted me to stay in a time I could only help but leave the artists gold leafed my throat like it was delicate and ready to go on stage                                           wearing shoe covers walking and talking       gently avoiding          swimming their arms the foxgloves developed negatives backwards                                in gelatine                                                                          over water pasted down                         every darkness bright green lime green stinging                                                           immediately                                                                                              nauseous turning to stone                                      under the gaze of the walls.
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Apr 30, 2024
Apr 30, 2024 at 7:08 AM UTC
THE MOSS POEM
(I wrote you most days from the rainforest floor)                                                                            This is where the                        moss was                                                                                                                                                                                and they were too I am out of touch and missing all at once                                 unable to get back to the surface swimming next to a blue flame glowing ectoplasm glitters the tour guide is a woman’s voice       under the stars and everything concave is inside out     far away from what it once was,                                                                                           uninverted happy is the uncertain                     I looked for you in the chrysalis       and you                                                                                were still wearing                                                                                           your socks                                                                   when you disappeared I found them in my drawer three days later      tucked themselves in still covered in glitter from the caves I had so many questions when I reached out my hands stuck to the walls and swallowed my palm                                                               silicone and retreating light it wanted me to stay in a time I could only help but leave the artists gold leafed my throat like it was delicate and ready to go on stage                                           wearing shoe covers walking and talking       gently avoiding          swimming their arms the foxgloves developed negatives backwards                                in gelatine                                                                          over water pasted down                         every darkness bright green lime green stinging                                                           immediately                                                                                              nauseous turning to stone                                      under the gaze of the walls.
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Cold, violet skin. Red rose petals fall from my wrist. The scent is pleasant. It makes my head spin. I spew eucalyptus leaves into the overflowing river. Oleanders flow down my throat. I puke out the petals, now stained red. The river flows red as the lilypads sink. Monkshood flowers cast shadows over my porcelain skin. I pluck and I pluck and I pluck. Until my fingertips are stained purple. I lick them clean. I weep tears that take the shape of an angel's trumpet. They sing me a soft lullaby as they seep into my skin. Pretty foxgloves draw me in closer. I touch their shell and inhale their scent. My stomach turns inside out. Skyflower petals seep from my mouth. I hadn't noticed until now. That my entire body was a wilted rose.
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Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 3:38 AM UTC
eat me.
I cannot breathe. My body will not allow me. I cannot breathe because anger seethes inside of me. I cannot smile. My face most likely looks vile. I cannot smile because the style of your profile makes me feel vile. I cannot speak. The word is so bleak and I am so weak. I cannot speak because the door will creak and shriek. I cannot love. My heart soars above. I cannot love because your love is still situated in the foxgloves. and not me.
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May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 10:04 PM UTC
I cannot
It was the cheap Polish coal Sweeping down from chimney and slate, Staining windows, levelling off At doors, settling on walks Where evidence showed me hurrying To my bed-sitting room In prints of snow and soot. The roses dipped, Foxgloves closed Against the odour. It was the kitchen. Tomatoes, carrots, onions Slicing vaporous air hanging Veil-like on dark windows. I coughed. Too many cigarettes? My nose bled. I pulled out a hankie And coughed again. When I removed my coat My eyes were red. You'd notice. Perhaps it was a combination . You knew my eyes. Weeks are still less tolerable. Smoke, soot, salads, Which really doesn't matter, Strangely mix, tossing  off our years. Cheap Polish coal. **** cheap Polish coal.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 8:20 AM UTC
It Was the Cheap Polish Coal
Roses are red, Violets are blue, The melody is sweet, And so are you. Orchids are white, Ghost ones are rare, Cinnamon is brown, And so is your hair. Magnolia grows, With buds like eggs, The term is long, And so are your legs. Sunflowers reach, Up to the skies, Waters are calm, And so are your eyes. Foxgloves in hedges, Surround the farms, Weather is warm, And so are your arms. Daisies are pretty, Daffies have style, Your relationship is rewarding, And so is your smile. A daisy is beautiful, Just like you.
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Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 12:17 PM UTC
For My Sweet Daisy