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"mowed" poems
i am seven and in your living room with antiques & photographs of family that are more like strangers and handshakes at christmas there is a jar of circus peanuts by the armchair and i remember being told that these are here because they are never out of stock and that *they are the only things children will not want to take from me* i still do not like the color orange. i am eight and round the bannister to an upstairs that reminds me of heaven in that place i can't go sort of way & i am knuckle deep in your pumpkin pie wiping it on my uncles suede jacket our hands still shake but the jury is still out on if he looks at me and napkins the same i hope you do not sleep with my apologies under your fingernails i will not say them out loud i know i should have mowed your lawn i should have been a home for second hand smoke if i could go back i would be your ashtray i remember the day you forgot who i was i bound into the room and throw my arms around you like an armistice and you ask who i am we are not in church but everyone stops singing i am passed from child to child while we all laugh but my lungs feel like they've been mugged in an ally who's son does he look like, mom? my father says like gospel you pull on your cigarette sip from your watered down wine and shrug and i am neck deep in forgetfulness i imagine alzheimer's as being born again every day so, we will spend ages looking at captions to photographs telling your stories to strangers as my father begins to forget and when i imagine probate an unfamiliar hand unfolding a will to be read to wayward angels i want to burn down the house and sleep in the ashes
0
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
hallelujah
i am seven and in your living room with antiques & photographs of family that are more like strangers and handshakes at christmas there is a jar of circus peanuts by the armchair and i remember being told that these are here because they are never out of stock and that *they are the only things children will not want to take from me* i still do not like the color orange. i am eight and round the bannister to an upstairs that reminds me of heaven in that place i can't go sort of way & i am knuckle deep in your pumpkin pie wiping it on my uncles suede jacket our hands still shake but the jury is still out on if he looks at me and napkins the same i hope you do not sleep with my apologies under your fingernails i will not say them out loud i know i should have mowed your lawn i should have been a home for second hand smoke if i could go back i would be your ashtray i remember the day you forgot who i was i bound into the room and throw my arms around you like an armistice and you ask who i am we are not in church but everyone stops singing i am passed from child to child while we all laugh but my lungs feel like they've been mugged in an ally who's son does he look like, mom? my father says like gospel you pull on your cigarette sip from your watered down wine and shrug and i am neck deep in forgetfulness i imagine alzheimer's as being born again every day so, we will spend ages looking at captions to photographs telling your stories to strangers as my father begins to forget and when i imagine probate an unfamiliar hand unfolding a will to be read to wayward angels i want to burn down the house and sleep in the ashes
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50
Why do you do this? Your Army of Nothings Who lay in the sun and are all but sweet who swelter and sweat in that fresh cut grass mowed by a man you can't hope to know. And you, you there, with the grin Who's side are you on anyway? What made you the prince of the Army of Nothings; The leader, the first in command. You spout and you spit that ******** and bare your teeth at me like you're the bomb dot com You're such a disgrace. parading around with your head up your *** "So what's new?" Oh, shut up, You can't even fill out your pants. Why should I care for you, why should I feel? How will I ever come home? Where welcoming words and magical treasure, and stories that never come true but are good. Where futures of light once reigned so supreme I swore they would never run dry. I thought you'd missed out, you know, then and there, of the life that we talked of in dreams. No flowers and chocolates, no diamond rings, just love. Made of stuff so much deeper and denser and finer and lovely, and warm, and alive... But it's over, and done. and I can't have it back. So I go on avoiding the Army of Nothings as they come marching in marching in one two, at the ready I feel deep in my bones that breaking and tearing Help me, archangel! Save me! You promised! You said you would always be there in that carved-out big apple our home, once upon when we laughed and were happy and good. But goodness runs out. You made that as clear as a crystal that needs to be smashed. And I did that, remember? I left it all broken and you were so proud So proud I had chosen the right over wrong. yet you overlook all the splinters of glass all there all here all lurking in me. I don't want to cry or beg or to fight But I loved you in ways that she found unacceptable? So silly, so stupid, so big that it keeps you away *Not that I care very much For your army of nothings or things that remind me of memories gone with the wind* But I do.
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Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 10:54 PM UTC
Your Army of Nothings
Why do you do this? Your Army of Nothings Who lay in the sun and are all but sweet who swelter and sweat in that fresh cut grass mowed by a man you can't hope to know. And you, you there, with the grin Who's side are you on anyway? What made you the prince of the Army of Nothings; The leader, the first in command. You spout and you spit that ******** and bare your teeth at me like you're the bomb dot com You're such a disgrace. parading around with your head up your *** "So what's new?" Oh, shut up, You can't even fill out your pants. Why should I care for you, why should I feel? How will I ever come home? Where welcoming words and magical treasure, and stories that never come true but are good. Where futures of light once reigned so supreme I swore they would never run dry. I thought you'd missed out, you know, then and there, of the life that we talked of in dreams. No flowers and chocolates, no diamond rings, just love. Made of stuff so much deeper and denser and finer and lovely, and warm, and alive... But it's over, and done. and I can't have it back. So I go on avoiding the Army of Nothings as they come marching in marching in one two, at the ready I feel deep in my bones that breaking and tearing Help me, archangel! Save me! You promised! You said you would always be there in that carved-out big apple our home, once upon when we laughed and were happy and good. But goodness runs out. You made that as clear as a crystal that needs to be smashed. And I did that, remember? I left it all broken and you were so proud So proud I had chosen the right over wrong. yet you overlook all the splinters of glass all there all here all lurking in me. I don't want to cry or beg or to fight But I loved you in ways that she found unacceptable? So silly, so stupid, so big that it keeps you away *Not that I care very much For your army of nothings or things that remind me of memories gone with the wind* But I do.
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81
On a distant summer a girl walked four miles to sell fruits at the haat and mowed by the May heat fell asleep on a patch of concrete. The noon dusts played around her *sleep little girl rest your feet the winds will play you a song refresh you with dreams so sweet the walk back home won't be long.* The sun had slid the shadows grown when opened her dream dazed eyes there she was at the haat all alone her fruits in the basket had dried. She had dreamed a round dime clutched in her palm colored gold with her wish she had slept thru the time and when the winds calmed held nothing to buy home a fish. Time has flown those dusts far away years have grown her wise yet when the winds blow lonely in May her tears she cannot disguise.
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Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 9:49 AM UTC
Winds of May
There once was a time Gone by, gone by, Picking blackberries till the vine was plucked dry. Pricked finger and the blood of kings washed the riverbed clean again paving path for new bled love. Story of my life: Hot Hand-Grenade. Tripwire tickled by trespassing travelers Red wire arteries clipped and clipped and clipped and simple minded times when birds sang songs to other birds and chirped lyrical lines in the dusk. More wonder. More trust. Less wanderlust. Dust in the air. Still in the sunlight. Through glass. Broke. Fall. Cut. All roads lead to home. Wood, River, Stone. A guide, a path, alone. We all walk on our own Striving for independence Together. Now is a time of faded glory, daffodils in freshly-mowed fields. I still catch myself wishing I had the words to share The bigness of what's out there. I still hear myself singing your song of longing. Still find myself longing for days of childish peace and ignorance when we could pick blackberries from the bush without bombs falling in our basket. Still a long way to go to hear the sound of surrender and the silent unfurling of egos into how alone we feel. Still my heart, that lost love long ago, and surrendered a savior forever. Hart, of dreams, slip into the stream. Interstitch the seams.
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 3:55 AM UTC
Dream of the Split Spartan
My friend and I talk about it Neighborhood got decimated this year One after another the corners of community are gone We touch the elder memories as one might touch a head in blessing as loved ones pass We linger longest over John Found dead after ten hot days by other-worldly hazmat crew flanked by cruisers with their special, yellow truck and zipper bags ...found 'im glasses folded neatly on the night stand in his jammies all tucked into bed No one thought it strange that strange young guy would die already decomposing in his head Lost among his personal effects his fleet of rusting cars and half-assed projects Deck tacked to garage his herds of “pets” Easy to pretend he wasn't really there between jail stints or some imagined threat or theft of crap haunted by the shadows of his persecutors caught in motion lights and cameras' blinding evidence of jungle-jumble and malfunctioning alarms going off in the wind Everyone's out to get his stuff We could dismiss him-- mostly sorta ...except for times he mowed his grass at night or hand-built “the lunatic tower” just for mom from scavenged scraps and hammered hours power-sawed through the housing codes and horror of the neighbors... ...Such a special spectacle... ******* crazy-- John! He was enough for one day at a time like when he flung that threatening bolder on bilco doors for percussive effect "Get off my fuckin' property!” (not using his “inside voice") “Next time, that'll be your head!! He announces his intent to not get mad, behave himself to call the cops on me instead Fake-dialing While his mother screams in dread “John is off his meds!” My phone is set to speed dial 911 ____ “How did we miss this? How did we not miss him those quiet days?” How we miss him now How quiet
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 4:18 PM UTC
Every Neighborhood Has One
My friend and I talk about it Neighborhood got decimated this year One after another the corners of community are gone We touch the elder memories as one might touch a head in blessing as loved ones pass We linger longest over John Found dead after ten hot days by other-worldly hazmat crew flanked by cruisers with their special, yellow truck and zipper bags ...found 'im glasses folded neatly on the night stand in his jammies all tucked into bed No one thought it strange that strange young guy would die already decomposing in his head Lost among his personal effects his fleet of rusting cars and half-assed projects Deck tacked to garage his herds of “pets” Easy to pretend he wasn't really there between jail stints or some imagined threat or theft of crap haunted by the shadows of his persecutors caught in motion lights and cameras' blinding evidence of jungle-jumble and malfunctioning alarms going off in the wind Everyone's out to get his stuff We could dismiss him-- mostly sorta ...except for times he mowed his grass at night or hand-built “the lunatic tower” just for mom from scavenged scraps and hammered hours power-sawed through the housing codes and horror of the neighbors... ...Such a special spectacle... ******* crazy-- John! He was enough for one day at a time like when he flung that threatening bolder on bilco doors for percussive effect "Get off my fuckin' property!” (not using his “inside voice") “Next time, that'll be your head!! He announces his intent to not get mad, behave himself to call the cops on me instead Fake-dialing While his mother screams in dread “John is off his meds!” My phone is set to speed dial 911 ____ “How did we miss this? How did we not miss him those quiet days?” How we miss him now How quiet
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70
Even though I've been helping you and working hard, you won't give me a beer after I've mowed your yard. I'm hot, sweaty and dying of thirst. You've done some bad things but this is the worst. When you asked for my help, I shouldn't have come here. You offered me a glass of water but what I want is a beer. You love your **** beer so much that you won't even give me one. I would kick your *** up and down the street if you weren't my son. I have something to say and you'd better listen to me. Don't ever expect me to mow your yard again for free.
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
I Want A Beer
The smell of fresh cut grass that you have mowed A lollipop with flavor painful, **** The signal traffic has to let you go A thumb on men who give plants great kick-starts The middle of a rainbow, warm and cold A long square with fuzz on a table for pool The mark on the root of all evil that's sold A moss-covered abandoned private school The things you see once trekking through the woods A pond lies ankle-high within this place The bits of algae below where you stood A frog that jumps in front of your shocked face There still are many things we've not yet seen Pertaining to the wonderful color green
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Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
On green, a sonnet
When my father was young he mowed lawns for money. He pushed a second-hand spinning blade in the hot Florida sun for spare change. With dull coins clanging in his pocket and crumpled bills in his palm, my father fought to escape home. To him, home was synonymous with scary southern suburbia, where late-night television  was replaced with screaming matches and loud fists. Angry eyes with children's cries. Barbecues bombarded with apologetic looks from neighbors. Pretending not to hear shatters and shouts of supposed 'baseball black eyes'. And so he pushed. Pushed the rusty lawn mower down strangers' yards, pushed away the sniggering snot-nosed kids calling him 'Spic', and pushed at his father's demons, crawling down his spine, whispering that he was no good. Years later he kept pushing Pushing Pushing Pushing towards whatever came next. Yet no matter how much he pushed, he was still the same boy with the lawn mower. Angry, mad, pushing violently ahead. The smoke of sanity is inhaled now, as my father's blood-shot eyes try to suppress the angry boy within. The residue of stolen innocence is not left unnoticed. A touch of tone on his once sunburnt neck and the man he has made instantly flushes away, leaving his father's demons. Calmer than before, a dying star, burning bright before collapse. Like a strong jaw, his father's anger is passed down to him, and I, his son, am now born with this seed of destruction. Smaller than before, but still seething. Constantly reminded, I sit in a leather chair surrounded by white walls in carefully controlled climate, plastic pen perched on my palm, I push. I'll keep pushing.
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
Lawn mower Pen
When my father was young he mowed lawns for money. He pushed a second-hand spinning blade in the hot Florida sun for spare change. With dull coins clanging in his pocket and crumpled bills in his palm, my father fought to escape home. To him, home was synonymous with scary southern suburbia, where late-night television  was replaced with screaming matches and loud fists. Angry eyes with children's cries. Barbecues bombarded with apologetic looks from neighbors. Pretending not to hear shatters and shouts of supposed 'baseball black eyes'. And so he pushed. Pushed the rusty lawn mower down strangers' yards, pushed away the sniggering snot-nosed kids calling him 'Spic', and pushed at his father's demons, crawling down his spine, whispering that he was no good. Years later he kept pushing Pushing Pushing Pushing towards whatever came next. Yet no matter how much he pushed, he was still the same boy with the lawn mower. Angry, mad, pushing violently ahead. The smoke of sanity is inhaled now, as my father's blood-shot eyes try to suppress the angry boy within. The residue of stolen innocence is not left unnoticed. A touch of tone on his once sunburnt neck and the man he has made instantly flushes away, leaving his father's demons. Calmer than before, a dying star, burning bright before collapse. Like a strong jaw, his father's anger is passed down to him, and I, his son, am now born with this seed of destruction. Smaller than before, but still seething. Constantly reminded, I sit in a leather chair surrounded by white walls in carefully controlled climate, plastic pen perched on my palm, I push. I'll keep pushing.
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12
I went to turn the grass once after one Who mowed it in the dew before the sun. The dew was gone that made his blade so keen Before I came to view the levelled scene. I looked for him behind an isle of trees; I listened for his whetstone on the breeze. But he had gone his way, the grass all mown, And I must be, as he had been,—alone, ‘As all must be,’ I said within my heart, ‘Whether they work together or apart.’ But as I said it, swift there passed me by On noiseless wing a bewildered butterfly, Seeking with memories grown dim over night Some resting flower of yesterday’s delight. And once I marked his flight go round and round, As where some flower lay withering on the ground. And then he flew as far as eye could see, And then on tremulous wing came back to me. I thought of questions that have no reply, And would have turned to toss the grass to dry; But he turned first, and led my eye to look At a tall tuft of flowers beside a brook, A leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had spared Beside a reedy brook the scythe had bared. I left my place to know them by their name, Finding them butterfly-weed when I came. The mower in the dew had loved them thus, By leaving them to flourish, not for us, Nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him, But from sheer morning gladness at the brim. The butterfly and I had lit upon, Nevertheless, a message from the dawn, That made me hear the wakening birds around, And hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, And feel a spirit kindred to my own; So that henceforth I worked no more alone; But glad with him, I worked as with his aid, And weary, sought at noon with him the shade; And dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech With one whose thought I had not hoped to reach. ‘Men work together,’ I told him from the heart, ‘Whether they work together or apart.’
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4.2k
The Tuft Of Flowers
I went to turn the grass once after one Who mowed it in the dew before the sun. The dew was gone that made his blade so keen Before I came to view the levelled scene. I looked for him behind an isle of trees; I listened for his whetstone on the breeze. But he had gone his way, the grass all mown, And I must be, as he had been,—alone, ‘As all must be,’ I said within my heart, ‘Whether they work together or apart.’ But as I said it, swift there passed me by On noiseless wing a bewildered butterfly, Seeking with memories grown dim over night Some resting flower of yesterday’s delight. And once I marked his flight go round and round, As where some flower lay withering on the ground. And then he flew as far as eye could see, And then on tremulous wing came back to me. I thought of questions that have no reply, And would have turned to toss the grass to dry; But he turned first, and led my eye to look At a tall tuft of flowers beside a brook, A leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had spared Beside a reedy brook the scythe had bared. I left my place to know them by their name, Finding them butterfly-weed when I came. The mower in the dew had loved them thus, By leaving them to flourish, not for us, Nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him, But from sheer morning gladness at the brim. The butterfly and I had lit upon, Nevertheless, a message from the dawn, That made me hear the wakening birds around, And hear his long scythe whispering to the ground, And feel a spirit kindred to my own; So that henceforth I worked no more alone; But glad with him, I worked as with his aid, And weary, sought at noon with him the shade; And dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech With one whose thought I had not hoped to reach. ‘Men work together,’ I told him from the heart, ‘Whether they work together or apart.’
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42
Ragged mountains and rough terrains, Withstanding storms and heavy rains. Warm rays of sunshine bring light. Bearing hues of black and white. To the touch it feels like a freshly mowed lawn. A promise of tummy tickling at dawn. A relaxing walk in an uninhabited forest. A tempestuous hike to the top of Everest. You could be a renegade or a mad scientist An investment banker or electric guitarist. A biker's beard could be just as immaculate. Rough as sandpaper or soft as velvet.
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May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 8:00 AM UTC
BEARDS REMIND ME OF...
A borrowed attire A ***** curly fro A slant set of shoulders A "lawn" that is mowed Soft caramel skin Four new tattoos Old holes from piercings No longer in use. A taller frame And a nice juicy **** ******* to match But a small little gut A refurbished heart A genuine smile A great listener Keeps old things on file A charming stare But not much to say She'll sneak in your heart In a phenomenal way Ready for anything When put to the test Yes, she has her flaws But she's close to the best.
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Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 5:16 PM UTC
Any Takers?
invisible isotopes gently rain down onto the chins of infants we whisk them away with soft kisses tiny irradiated dust flakes float onto boutonniereless lapels we brush them off with fresh carnations Oak leaves blown from denuding limbs by soft puffs of radioactive plumes are shaken from our door mats green grass sprinkled with Strontium 90 is mowed and mixed into our compost piles the pristine waters of March are laced with uranium tainted iodine it coolly slakes our piqued thirst the rouge rose gilded with a golden plush of soft plutonium is plucked to adorn late evening dinner tables and exchanged by sweethearts as amorous gestures of resignation between condemned lovers Oakland 3/28/11 jbm
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Nov 5, 2011
Nov 5, 2011 at 9:27 PM UTC
A Gilded Rose
The casket was coming up, swaying and wobbling Like a novice skater’s layover spin, The workings proceeding apace, The stillness of the August heat Punctuated by disinterested growl of the backhoe, The occasional out-of-place jocularity by the excavators The creaky jingle of the chains holding the muddied box As it proceeded skyward in its clumsy poor-man’s Resurrection. The affair was being observed by an elderly couple, Old enough to be of no particular age.   Their car had Carolina plates, But their inflections, their casually-tossed idioms They noted that ruefully The grass needs mowed) Marked them as natives. They’d returned (Last time, most likely, The wife uttered mournfully) To take their son with them; he’d drowned when was five? six? (The years will do that to a body, apparently) In Kinzua Creek some half-century ago, Back when little boys weren’t under a mandate To be safe from themselves, as it were.   He was our boy! We’ve never forgotten him! The old man said, the words snapping off In a manner that spoke of something else altogether, How the whistle at the Montmorenci Went off at three and eleven for second shift, And your *** had better be there, As those were good jobs that didn’t wait for bereavement leave, Because there was always someone Just itching to take your spot on the line, And anyway life went on, At least in the sense that television screens went all to snow And tires went flat and fuses blew And eventually a dead child Is not always in the forefront of your thoughts, Only tiptoeing in when the Press ran a picture Of the Montmorenci Area Class of whenever, Or there was an item about some other family Who opened their front door To a grim sheriff’s deputy with his hat in his hand.   Eventually, after some time And in defiance of both the odds and gravity, The casket was settled into the back Of the undertaker’s huge old black Caddy, And the couple cane-toddled back to their car, Following out the through the old spider-like gates And onto the main road. The brief procession fading from sight, Until there was nothing left to see Save the hillsides covered in old growth pine.
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Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
the disinterment
The casket was coming up, swaying and wobbling Like a novice skater’s layover spin, The workings proceeding apace, The stillness of the August heat Punctuated by disinterested growl of the backhoe, The occasional out-of-place jocularity by the excavators The creaky jingle of the chains holding the muddied box As it proceeded skyward in its clumsy poor-man’s Resurrection. The affair was being observed by an elderly couple, Old enough to be of no particular age.   Their car had Carolina plates, But their inflections, their casually-tossed idioms They noted that ruefully The grass needs mowed) Marked them as natives. They’d returned (Last time, most likely, The wife uttered mournfully) To take their son with them; he’d drowned when was five? six? (The years will do that to a body, apparently) In Kinzua Creek some half-century ago, Back when little boys weren’t under a mandate To be safe from themselves, as it were.   He was our boy! We’ve never forgotten him! The old man said, the words snapping off In a manner that spoke of something else altogether, How the whistle at the Montmorenci Went off at three and eleven for second shift, And your *** had better be there, As those were good jobs that didn’t wait for bereavement leave, Because there was always someone Just itching to take your spot on the line, And anyway life went on, At least in the sense that television screens went all to snow And tires went flat and fuses blew And eventually a dead child Is not always in the forefront of your thoughts, Only tiptoeing in when the Press ran a picture Of the Montmorenci Area Class of whenever, Or there was an item about some other family Who opened their front door To a grim sheriff’s deputy with his hat in his hand.   Eventually, after some time And in defiance of both the odds and gravity, The casket was settled into the back Of the undertaker’s huge old black Caddy, And the couple cane-toddled back to their car, Following out the through the old spider-like gates And onto the main road. The brief procession fading from sight, Until there was nothing left to see Save the hillsides covered in old growth pine.
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50
Nanu, I had a dream last night that you came back From being gone almost 3 years We embraced and I told you I missed you so much It was bittersweet, really. I had seen you, and then you disappeared. Like a shadow, when the sun decides to sleep. I could've slept eternally knowing I would've been with you; forever I remember when you were first diagnosed with lung cancer. You held a smooth stone and told me, "Emily this stone is going to heal me one day." You told me how it would make you better. I remember one thanksgiving you gave me a glass of your wine It was, bittersweet. Vinegary as it ate away my tastebuds Sweet like strawberries marinading in sugar, only.. Wine is made out of grapes... You taught me that. Its funny, you used to let me sit upon your lap when you mowed the lawn, it was my own mistake for crashing it into the fence. It was, bittersweet. I got to drive a lawn mower and you had to fix the fence. I look back to how happy you were on the sun porch in the summer heat, especially when lightening would strike the area around us, I'd hide my face in your tarnished sweater It was, bittersweet. This morning I stood in the snow Weeping as I stared at the sky, Then I remembered, you didn't disappear, you just went on vacation for awhile. It's bittersweet, really.
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
Bittersweet
Someone asked me my favorite color. All I could think to answer, was that pink and orange mixture that radiates from the sun a half hour after 7 in the beginning of October, reflecting vibrantly in her hazel eyes, while her fingers are entwined with mine and the faint smell of her perfume blends with the Autumn smell of mowed grass and bonfires.
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Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
Favorite Color?
we promised each other a broken lawn mower so we mowed the dirt instead
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Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
grassland
I painted the fence, washed the car, mowed the lawn, what else is there to do? you told me to clean the windows, take out the trash, walk the dog, feed the cat and I did that as well what else do you need? I picked up the groceries, mopped the floors, clean the toilets, NO I'm done finished I WON'T DO ANYMORE all these chores are not worth 5 bucks! Stop with this terrible labor.
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Apr 16, 2010
Apr 16, 2010 at 9:08 AM UTC
Chores
Cookies in the oven, grass mowed, petrol, permanent markers her hair. Flowers, lavender and roses, wet dogs, even the barkers, her hair. Dinner ready, bacon barbecue, onions sizzling, fresh soup her hair. My sweat, my tears, her hair, my fears, morning dew, honey, misty sunrise hers.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
Smell
The sky is pink with the sunset and, The clouds look like cotton candy. I want to eat popcorn at carnivals, or spend all day by riverbanks soaking up the atmosphere. The air is tinged with sun tan lotion, freshly mowed grass and, the laughter of children playing in puddles left over from afternoon showers. The breeze is thick and warm, flowing through the skirts of lovers And kissing bare shoulders. Daisies and dandelions tilt their faces towards the sun, Proudly pretending they each deserve to be picked and braided into chains, adorning necks and hair. Little girls dressed in sunshine dance in the evening glow, as little boys catch fireflies in an attempt to captivate and impress. I hold my breath as the sun dips below the horizon and, sets the sky on fire one last time. I could swear time stops As everything transforms into silhouettes of what they were. The clouds give way to a million stars, that still can't shine as bright as your eyes. The whole world tucks itself away, but not us. We lounge in the cool grass and breathe in the moment when all I can feel is your hand in mine, and the earth still coming alive with summertime.
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Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 9:54 PM UTC
Summertime
Nanu, I had a dream last night that you came back From being gone almost 3 years We embraced and I told you I missed you so much It was bittersweet, really. I had seen you, and then you disappeared. Like a shadow, when the sun decides to sleep. I could've slept eternally knowing I would've been with you; forever I remember when you were first diagnosed with lung cancer. You held a smooth stone and told me, "Emily this stone is going to heal me one day." You told me how it would make you better. I remember one thanksgiving you gave me a glass of your wine It was, bittersweet. Vinegary as it ate away my tastebuds Sweet like strawberries marinading in sugar, only.. Wine is made out of grapes... You taught me that. Its funny, you used to let me sit upon your lap when you mowed the lawn, it was my own mistake for crashing it into the fence. It was, bittersweet. I got to drive a lawn mower and you had to fix the fence. I look back to how happy you were on the sun porch in the summer heat, especially when lightening would strike the area around us, I'd hide my face in your tarnished sweater It was, bittersweet. This morning I stood in the snow Inhaling the heavy smoke of my marlboro cigarette Weeping as I stared at the sky, Then I remembered, you didn't disappear, you just went on vacation for awhile. It's bittersweet, really.
0
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
Bittersweet
Green buds, fresh mowed grass, Bees and pollen everywhere; I can't stop sneezing.
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
spring sprang sprung
I'm in love. I'm in love with the way grass smells after it's been mowed. It has a certain smell that reminds me of summer days and childhood memories. I'm in love with how that rain hits my window during a storm. It's like it wants to come in so badly that tries to obliterate my window but only to realize that as soon as it hits the glass, the raindrop itself obliterates. And I guess that's how I feel in love with you. You reminded me of summer nights and some childhood memories and I wanted to get into your heart so badly that I thought if I made myself fall you would catch me. But, just like the raindrop, I obliterated on contact.
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Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 11:40 AM UTC
I fell in love
Before identities and allegiances are even confirmed, The cries of anger rise up like a thick, black smoke, Heavy and suffocating, it flows through streets, Over the English Channel, across oceans, Seeping into social media and blanketing all else. Cries for vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance. And those cries barely manifested into a wisp When Beirut was attacked the day before Paris. I didn't see any Facebook pictures of the flag of Lebanon. Do any of us even know what the flag of Lebanon looks like??? To **** innocent people is a crime except when we do it, Then it's "There are always casualties of war," But if this isn't a war except when we're killing people, Can it really be called a war? We care so much about the injustice of it, How the innocent are mowed down without mercy, That we want those bombs dropped and we want them dropped now. When those bombs destroy homes and blast children's limbs apart, Bloodless and pale, until the area looks like it used to be a porcelain doll factory... Will we all have Syrian flags for our Facebook pictures?
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Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 10:37 AM UTC
Hashtags and Hypocrisy
You were my ice tea On a lemonade day Honey from a bumblebee On the patio of your cafe You were the green grass We smoked at dawn The freshly mowed grass We stretched our limbs on You were my summer drink Those strawberry lips A raspberry pink distinct With those cool iced hips
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Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 1:38 AM UTC
Last Summer
The grit in this world seems to be gone, all of us have just become pawns in this static, yet enigmatic, state of mowed lawns, and designer shoes. Yesterday, I asked for a hammer, to fix things up around here, and was asked if I wanted red or blue? Because everything nowadays is a choice. I said to the man in a soft voice, "I'm colorblind." If only to remind him that it didn't matter what color the hammer was. Because you see, regardless of whether the hammer is red or blue, I'm still going to nail and glue this world together again. And make a world where cranes have feathers and not tall steel bars, and life is just a really surreal cigar. Tasty and lustful. Mysterious, but certainly not mistrustful. A world where only adjectives can make a complete sentence, and not create any repentance. Are you catching my drift? Grasping the concept? If your mind is still adrift, then leave it there. Let it float around until it reaches something profound. Then come back. Join the rest of us for a mid-afternoon snack, with lemonade and empathy. Ginger snaps and morality. And a rainbow. Even if I am colorblind.
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Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 8:24 PM UTC
Colorblind