"mutualistic" poems - Hello Poetry

Well mercy mercy me merci pour le vine c'est tres.....dry however you look a little more lovely now call it alcohol inhancement or stupidity or lack of judgement just call me and tell me about yer day what are you wearing? Sweatpants? Hot. He one time said he likes to write I took that to mean "We're soulmates" but apparently it just meant he was ***** but so was I it worked out, a mutualistic relationship he collected my pollen and tickled my pistil until nectar oozed, licked my petals picked my leaves, it was a fun spring then summer came and dried up all of the birds they didn't fly away home ever they just sat in trees and watched the clouds go by lazy birds lost their drive to destroy so they relaxed and hoped for a tomorrow maybe a next week who knows give it some time and all is good all is well and swell and fan-tastic and many people are stoners.

0

Jun 7, 2012

Jun 7, 2012 at 10:02 PM UTC

matalie-niller

Junktastic

Well mercy mercy me merci pour le vine c'est tres.....dry however you look a little more lovely now call it alcohol inhancement or stupidity or lack of judgement just call me and tell me about yer day what are you wearing? Sweatpants? Hot. He one time said he likes to write I took that to mean "We're soulmates" but apparently it just meant he was ***** but so was I it worked out, a mutualistic relationship he collected my pollen and tickled my pistil until nectar oozed, licked my petals picked my leaves, it was a fun spring then summer came and dried up all of the birds they didn't fly away home ever they just sat in trees and watched the clouds go by lazy birds lost their drive to destroy so they relaxed and hoped for a tomorrow maybe a next week who knows give it some time and all is good all is well and swell and fan-tastic and many people are stoners.

28

It happened on a night when the moon was most likely bright and she with Eros were looking down upon me, thought they were blessing my tummy. You loved me at the worst possible time you loved me at the best possible time you loved me, so now I'm never alone no matter where I go Weeks pass me without blessing I am shaken, unbalanced I am off and I know it. Mother lifted my curse and mother gave me a curse I carry it with me all of the time and after it has left me, I will carry it in my heart until the end of time. You went to your uncle's funeral two weeks ago and we will attend mine in a few more We'll say goodbye to a part of me I'll say goodbye to the best part of me We'll say goodbye to a piece of us Now water still flows through water and blood still connect me and you but do you know soon you will rust? Some would call it parasitic, but I believe it slightly more mutualistic; I give up everything for your tiny tummy I'd give up anything for your tiny heart that seems to beat 1,000 times per few seconds 1,000 miles deep within me, so I will never be able to reach you let alone help you So this is my sincerest apology to the love of my life who never could come to be and I will be carrying all your 1,000 heart beats and on me they crush down upon the only home you have ever known a thousand pounds heavy but not nearly as heavy as that pill in my hand and my heart as we said goodbye to the best part of me.

0

Nov 30, 2014

Nov 30, 2014 at 9:18 PM UTC

kayla-renee-maron

Clara

It happened on a night when the moon was most likely bright and she with Eros were looking down upon me, thought they were blessing my tummy. You loved me at the worst possible time you loved me at the best possible time you loved me, so now I'm never alone no matter where I go Weeks pass me without blessing I am shaken, unbalanced I am off and I know it. Mother lifted my curse and mother gave me a curse I carry it with me all of the time and after it has left me, I will carry it in my heart until the end of time. You went to your uncle's funeral two weeks ago and we will attend mine in a few more We'll say goodbye to a part of me I'll say goodbye to the best part of me We'll say goodbye to a piece of us Now water still flows through water and blood still connect me and you but do you know soon you will rust? Some would call it parasitic, but I believe it slightly more mutualistic; I give up everything for your tiny tummy I'd give up anything for your tiny heart that seems to beat 1,000 times per few seconds 1,000 miles deep within me, so I will never be able to reach you let alone help you So this is my sincerest apology to the love of my life who never could come to be and I will be carrying all your 1,000 heart beats and on me they crush down upon the only home you have ever known a thousand pounds heavy but not nearly as heavy as that pill in my hand and my heart as we said goodbye to the best part of me.

45

I scramble around a petrol token mug purporting to be an ash tray stained in neglect needling between ash and cigarette butts looking for some spent tobacco to recycle and breathe in the cancerous smoke of belonging. "Just don't ever talk about me", he said. "I am strong when you are feeble", he said. The doctor twiddles his fountain pen a parting gift from his late father held with the poise of grace and wielded like a lance the pen can do many things for he and I prescribe or chastise the freedom with solitude and the four white walls of limiting restraint. "Just don't ever talk about me", he said. "We are symbiotic you and I", he said. I wonder though is it: Mutualistic Commensalism Parasitism or Neutralism - Who benefits who? Do we bathe in each others glory holding hands in the lost age of reason comfort in the loneliness of winter or just a dream of the endless a figment of the imagination and the passing of time looking out of frosted windows. "Just don't ever talk about me", he said. "I lead you in the dark, I am your light", he said. I sometimes step back into the gloom He fills my capillaries clogging up my arteries with his dark and mischievous veins calling out to faceless strangers walking past in the haze the ones the others do not see just out of line of sight mottled and disfigured and blurred. "Have another drink on me", he said. I am distracted by the minute leading this shabby existence and the opening of unpaid bills and the carnage of last weeks washing and the bottles of empty beer discarded like a tramps ***** in the drying sun monuments to a day before when we were younger and wrestled in the long grass of salvation and the long summer days of liberal libation. "I am the one and only constant you will ever have", he said. Without him I will be hollow like a rotten tree trunk gashed in initials of love letters with a pen knife saturated in the remains of fortified wine bottles and leaf litter molding in the dying frost of spring. "Just don't ever talk about me", he said. Just don't ever talk about us, is what he meant.

0

Mar 11, 2014

Mar 11, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC

DBeard

Harvey & Me

I scramble around a petrol token mug purporting to be an ash tray stained in neglect needling between ash and cigarette butts looking for some spent tobacco to recycle and breathe in the cancerous smoke of belonging. "Just don't ever talk about me", he said. "I am strong when you are feeble", he said. The doctor twiddles his fountain pen a parting gift from his late father held with the poise of grace and wielded like a lance the pen can do many things for he and I prescribe or chastise the freedom with solitude and the four white walls of limiting restraint. "Just don't ever talk about me", he said. "We are symbiotic you and I", he said. I wonder though is it: Mutualistic Commensalism Parasitism or Neutralism - Who benefits who? Do we bathe in each others glory holding hands in the lost age of reason comfort in the loneliness of winter or just a dream of the endless a figment of the imagination and the passing of time looking out of frosted windows. "Just don't ever talk about me", he said. "I lead you in the dark, I am your light", he said. I sometimes step back into the gloom He fills my capillaries clogging up my arteries with his dark and mischievous veins calling out to faceless strangers walking past in the haze the ones the others do not see just out of line of sight mottled and disfigured and blurred. "Have another drink on me", he said. I am distracted by the minute leading this shabby existence and the opening of unpaid bills and the carnage of last weeks washing and the bottles of empty beer discarded like a tramps ***** in the drying sun monuments to a day before when we were younger and wrestled in the long grass of salvation and the long summer days of liberal libation. "I am the one and only constant you will ever have", he said. Without him I will be hollow like a rotten tree trunk gashed in initials of love letters with a pen knife saturated in the remains of fortified wine bottles and leaf litter molding in the dying frost of spring. "Just don't ever talk about me", he said. Just don't ever talk about us, is what he meant.

63

Two wrens, a couple of birds with intent, Lit on my new magnolia tree; The blossoms are full, There's ants on the leafs. It's mutualistic, and communalistic; All thrive so well. I wish the world could bear witness To this simple tree.

0

May 23, 2018

May 23, 2018 at 12:38 PM UTC

francie-lynch

Symbiosis

Two wrens, a couple of birds with intent, Lit on my new magnolia tree; The blossoms are full, There's ants on the leafs. It's mutualistic, and communalistic; All thrive so well. I wish the world could bear witness To this simple tree.

8

*Rainwater becomes crystal , sparkling within golden wildflowers that catch the wandering eye in the afternoon sunlight ceremony , beauty and mundanity held together , autonomous , independent with visceral poetic emotion , a testimony to mutualistic endeavors .... Portals through scattered canopies opening doors , darkness called to its cobalt conclusion , freed of the daylight confusion , returning home to serenade my emotive night* ...

0

Jun 5, 2016

Jun 5, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

Sunday Orbs ....

*Rainwater becomes crystal , sparkling within golden wildflowers that catch the wandering eye in the afternoon sunlight ceremony , beauty and mundanity held together , autonomous , independent with visceral poetic emotion , a testimony to mutualistic endeavors .... Portals through scattered canopies opening doors , darkness called to its cobalt conclusion , freed of the daylight confusion , returning home to serenade my emotive night* ...

4

\)/. ||..\/..||../(/ Lilies and selloum, anthuriums, snake plants and wood sorrels, pink bougainvilleas and crotons greet me every morning, they keep green poetry alive and in motion, as sighs of joy awaken and nourish the brightly verdant. i walk the few steps to the small front garden...every breath taken reminds me of precious oxygen they give, we breath out carbon dioxide, they gladly accept... i keep wondering, "where, when, and how did these mutualistic symbiotic relationships come about?" we would not...cannot survive without them. someone's, or something's refuse, could be another's lifeline, or treasure, no one...nothing...stays an island... Sally Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan November 23, 2020

0

Nov 23, 2020

Nov 23, 2020 at 12:29 AM UTC

sally-a-bayan

Symbiosis

\)/. ||..\/..||../(/ Lilies and selloum, anthuriums, snake plants and wood sorrels, pink bougainvilleas and crotons greet me every morning, they keep green poetry alive and in motion, as sighs of joy awaken and nourish the brightly verdant. i walk the few steps to the small front garden...every breath taken reminds me of precious oxygen they give, we breath out carbon dioxide, they gladly accept... i keep wondering, "where, when, and how did these mutualistic symbiotic relationships come about?" we would not...cannot survive without them. someone's, or something's refuse, could be another's lifeline, or treasure, no one...nothing...stays an island... Sally Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan November 23, 2020

27

As my finger, triggers the sound My heart ululates, in intoxication Remembrance, is a gift in itself Indescribable feelings, leading me forward Being described, through each line I hear Nostalgia, a joyous feat The world's halt, is known My feet, the only moment shown Care for those who see, denied by the symphony Where profanity bears no existence A freed soul, does possess me The understanding; mutualistic Each word, mine as it is theirs My mind, so accustom that copyright is forgotten Add my own, I try Though they who brought fame, made it gold Treasures, will I never relinquish A reprieve from my pain, offered through their show Adrenaline, does it move me so Motions, are they mine to control My clothes, never asking to leave To love, a possibility told once more As they speak of great loss Findings do resonate, in my being The group, one with the groove With pride they express, not chasing the background Their voices, not guised by theatrics Their arrival, a grace to my ears Excessive sales, a want at most To empathize with the listener, their only goal Their personal lives, unquestioned Hope is all I desire, from their shared experience Never met, but always a friend When others left, standing by in grief Maybe my art, unmoving to them Their art will remain timeless, to me With my pain, have they empathized A resonating nostalgia, plays through their timeless words My findings, a cure to a cause

0

Jun 18, 2016

Jun 18, 2016 at 3:50 AM UTC

keshan

Timeless Songs, My Cure

As my finger, triggers the sound My heart ululates, in intoxication Remembrance, is a gift in itself Indescribable feelings, leading me forward Being described, through each line I hear Nostalgia, a joyous feat The world's halt, is known My feet, the only moment shown Care for those who see, denied by the symphony Where profanity bears no existence A freed soul, does possess me The understanding; mutualistic Each word, mine as it is theirs My mind, so accustom that copyright is forgotten Add my own, I try Though they who brought fame, made it gold Treasures, will I never relinquish A reprieve from my pain, offered through their show Adrenaline, does it move me so Motions, are they mine to control My clothes, never asking to leave To love, a possibility told once more As they speak of great loss Findings do resonate, in my being The group, one with the groove With pride they express, not chasing the background Their voices, not guised by theatrics Their arrival, a grace to my ears Excessive sales, a want at most To empathize with the listener, their only goal Their personal lives, unquestioned Hope is all I desire, from their shared experience Never met, but always a friend When others left, standing by in grief Maybe my art, unmoving to them Their art will remain timeless, to me With my pain, have they empathized A resonating nostalgia, plays through their timeless words My findings, a cure to a cause

39

And just like that, he came. Dressed in gold, I’ve gotten a hold Of the inevitable truth: An indelicate one, uncouth. He was eager As he wanted to go deeper; With nothing to restrain, We submitted to each other’s gain. And he ****** With all the glory Not in any hurry He was on top like a king Punishing, demanding. Finally filled with glee, He pulled out of me; He was never meant to stay So I had to give way. And he left.

0

Jun 13, 2018

Jun 13, 2018 at 5:18 AM UTC

leighallison

A Mutualistic Relationship between a Flower and a Bee

And just like that, he came. Dressed in gold, I’ve gotten a hold Of the inevitable truth: An indelicate one, uncouth. He was eager As he wanted to go deeper; With nothing to restrain, We submitted to each other’s gain. And he ****** With all the glory Not in any hurry He was on top like a king Punishing, demanding. Finally filled with glee, He pulled out of me; He was never meant to stay So I had to give way. And he left.

19

There's a newfound anger that resides inside of me -- pent up from the terrors I'd pushed away, it is a struggle between self-preservation and mutualistic destruction, a simplistic desire to never allow another human to view me as you had.

0

Dec 13, 2023

Dec 13, 2023 at 5:47 PM UTC

theprofesor

Sadness to anger.

There's a newfound anger that resides inside of me -- pent up from the terrors I'd pushed away, it is a struggle between self-preservation and mutualistic destruction, a simplistic desire to never allow another human to view me as you had.

7