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dilshé Jul 2021
A cabin in the forest
far from the city- bleak
where the air so crisp
would cleanse your soul
as you breathe in the morning mist.
colossal trees tower over your presence
Let it be known human-
the landlords who reside;
are the grizzlies and the robins-
effervescent.
Tranquil silence & enigmatic sounds
Piques my curiosity all around.
The slight possibility
of a bigfoots presence
eery sensations & the moon in crescent.
Forest adventure fanatic
Ariella Cynder Oct 2016
As I try to make a home for you,
Inside my barren heart,
I find that I knew that this
Would fail from the start.
But what's life without taking chances?
I have lost so many things
My love, my trust, and my sanity
Brick by brick
I can feel myself building
Yet another wall.
But I'm not sure if it's meant to
Let you in
Or watch you fall.
You can't deny the nature of me.
We are animals after all.
And if instincts never fail,
If it's my purpose to run free,
Then my purpose will prevail.
I let you in.
I undressed my soul,
I trusted again.
I held on to these last two years like it was all I had ever known.
I took off my skin.
I held onto your hand and we conquered my demons.
I let you in.
You learned my mentality.
You saw my need to separate myself from reality.
You got under my ribs and you haunted me.
You learned my weaknesses, and then you used me.
I let you in.
Knowing that in the end,
That Destiny would call
And I'd be gone again.
alone in this zone
surrounded by trees
that drown the sound around me.
There is a luminous numinous light;
catching a finch's feathers just right
and making me wonder if I'll leave a sillage in time
like it's wings left in the sky.
or like the tide in your eyes;
left in my heart.
Nemophilist:a haunter of the woods/one who adores its beauty and solitude
Numinous:fearful yet interesting, in awe but inspired
Sillage: a trace of something in space that had been and has past
Mattrick Patrick Dec 2015
The world is out of balance: koyaanisqatsi!  
Numinous, my heart's nemophilist alerted to the danger,
yet presently in rasasavada,  espies the solstace moon and cries
in acatalepsy:  Mamihlapinatapai with the hunter within...
Should I embrace this smultronställe,
cought in the ostranenie of meliorism,
or drift from this vorfrued to sophresyne;

My only desire is the nurishing erlebnisse of metanoia,
of my dérive towards sehnsucht:
of rasasavada, that I may insulate myself from the Weltanschauung
of modern society, hiraeth to a nefelibata.
www.highexistence.com/theres-a-word-for-that-25-expressions-you-should-have-in-your-vocabulary
JP Goss Oct 2013
Cooling air, the senses assault
Done is the day, I’ve earned my salt.
Daytime light has turned on me
On moonlit streets such trickery
The pleasant splash, those leaves on foot
Make drunk these nostrils, nectarous soot
Pensive mood floods the mind
And of their beauty I’m truly blind
I do not think of Autumn whole
Only alms within my bowl
As you’ll see I’m leaf inspired
Though their rudiments I have mired
Autumn ring, the chilling tenors
Rejoiced and played in earthly manors
That icy rush makes cold the spirits
Yet conflagrates ye adherents
That festive smell, incense the air!
No motive o’yours ever err
And though the day leaves more hastily
These changing leaves get the best o’me
Transient seconds plump and inspir’d
Of your natural portraits I’ll never tire
The mountainside, my most treasur’d mosaic
Whatever great works, it’s more archaic
Falling to the ground, like listless colorful rain
Whether as the nemophilist, or seated behind a pane
These little souls returning to earth
Fill me with the greatest mirth
Though they exemplify an age ended
Verbiage they have transcended
I’d fill my days with gallery mileage
Gladly glut with their splendid sillage
As they flit, the stuff of dreams
In their midst, pure sophrosyne.
Day or night I’m overcome
Eyes wide open and stricken dumb
Overcome with words and tune
Bursting forth, this ideal plume
And like a flower, complex in bloom
Can’t be captured, hemmed and hewn
Vapor these words, though fall inspire’d
No due medium, pen or lyre
Untouchable this golden essence
Wealth of ideas, gone in seconds
Appropriate, it seems to me
My head, my thoughts a leafy tree
Arrives the autumn, gold and dun
Thousands escape when I reach for one
So I’ll just watch in quiet awe
The beauty whole, no hem nor haw
Not try to make that art my own
Won’t reduce it to rhyme and tone
I’ll simply revel their naïve lull
Ephemeral, yes, but never dull
Shout out happily in leafy halls
Marry to words what return my calls
Leave thou ******, in pulchritude pall
And question not what comes of fall.
Olivia Kent Jun 2015
Trolling the dark woods.
Bracken crunching underfoot.
Scratching errant branches catch my skin at every step.
Why am I here?
I scratch my head.
I find a splinter.
The trees answer my behest.

Nemophilist, walking the woodland.
Battling branches...metaphorically of course.
Nature is my calling.
It's calling out to me.
Begging for sunlight's sustenance.
To fortify and rectify.
It's domain is tortured.
Threatened and teased by builders of houses.
Property developers.
For as humans born of man we are just products bent on destruction.
The oak tree stands fixated on my visit.
It doesn't move.
It can't.
It has more to say than I ever can.
I am representative of it's wishes.
Stood longer than you or I.
Look me in the eye and declare that you don't  care.
I dare you.
(c)Livvi
K G May 2016
My soul out in a burning mist
My body in the worst of dens
To feed it and forget it, the leaves among it
Silence with that murmur, the swung wicket
Its a broken hearted nemophilist
Here
The neck your mother's arms caressed
A handful of blossoms I plucked
Hands ******* and darkened
Great black spots where the blood has run

When we were rich in the crevice
We had our bodies burnished
Night shacking up, so we've furnished

Not a plenteous sort of season, time of year
Blue-black, lustrous, masculine eyes
Barricaded by trees, fields, and grime tears
Universe Poems Nov 2021
Nature Nemophilist
Woods and forest
Beauty and solitude exists

© 2021 Carol Natasha Diviney

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