Pinetree poems on Hello Poetry

Allan Pangilinan Jan 2016

Then you check if they're asleep,
Sneak at the wash room,
Check if you made it right,
Damps some towel and looks for some holes,
Then you light it up.
As it gets to you, you hear them,
You know they're not there.
You just hear them.
And you realize when you go to bed,
Hearing the noise of the air-conditioner,
Your eyes adjusting to the darkness,
You see your pillow just the way you want it.
But no one can deny,
Your home is nowhere.
Not here, definitely not there.

You just grew apart.

SG Holter Oct 2015

Mayhem

They've stopped burning churches and
Ramming knives into one another.

Now they visit the woods without corpse
Paint and disposable cameras,

Eating Norwegian mushrooms around
Fires, boomblasters blasting

'De Mysteriis dom Sathanas' out into
Pinetree forests.

Media turned Black Metal into "satanism".
Inspired the weak.

One scratched the back of the other as newspapers
Sold more than ever, and

Small egos acted beyond their sizes, trying and
Dying for coverage.

Sometimes I feel the remains of vikings,
Battle worn and anti-christian still, after death,

Moaning: No. It was never just for
Show.

They've stopped burning churches now.
Perform with unpainted faces.

One final
Protest.

The devil is ink on cheap paper.
Money and newspapers are barely wood.

Some say they burn like old Norwegian churches.
Others just like their music raw and real.

Annie Aug 2019

Escape

Daydreaming of quality time, alone.
Diving into bush pools and rivers,
sun-soaked,
wet rocks under-***,
hair slick down back,
drip on shoulders;
stronger now there’s nothing
holding me down.

Down I dive,
further- deep into peace.
I’ll eat air and drink my own laughter in gulps until I’m drunk
and fall off my rock
right back in the water-fallen ripples
again.

Let the tui talk and the fantails walk
behind me,
as I make my own naked trail
through fairy-forest vines,
over moss-mounds and thick roots.

With no cars, I can climb,
every tree is my castle,
every branch a limb
to protect me.

I’ll barefoot tumble down a Pinetree *****,
carve my poems into soft-bark trunks,
let the wind fuel my fire.

#escape #bush #alone #quality #forest #nz #birds #wet #nature #naked

Austin Bauer Sep 2016

Opossum

You sure were in the moment
Monday when that opossum
Was laying on the garbage in
Your trash-day trash can, quite
An inconvenience when you're
Trying not to be late for work.

On Tuesday, you had a lot of
Questions for me when, on
Your commute, you saw that
Fawn lifeless on the side of the road.

Why is it that these moments
Make you present to me?
You come with doubting questions,
Ready to put me on trial
When every day I send you
Gifts of love even more
Real than the sting of death:

Did you notice the squirrel
Rushing back to her tree with
An apple the size of her head?
Could you see her there feeding
Her kits - born blind so they
Might learn to trust their maker?

Which reminds me, did you notice
The geese that flew over your head
While you were riding bicycles
With your wife? Were you listening
Carefully enough to translate their
Honking conversation? I remember
They were considering where they
Might stop to rest for the night.
After all, it is a long journey to their
Snowbird mansion - Hole number
Seven at Pinetree Country Club.

Are you present enough to notice
All the beauty, all the glory I've
Squeezed inside your every day life?
Open your eyes for a moment,
Unlock your ears and listen.
I promise you'll see the
Facets of who I really am.

#poetry #poet #god #be #day #poems #to #jesus #present #every

Kmo Mar 2017

Haiku and Nature

Sitting under a tall, rigid pinetree
Staring at God's everlasting piece of art
Brings euphoria to a restless and broken heart.

#haikupoem #naturelover

Onoma Jun 2017

Access Granted

standing under a pinetree--
large zeros, zeroed in on
smaller ones.
till a bee's buzz was sourced.
a bumblebee banging against
a marble-size hole in a bough.
with every aerial fumble,
a buzz's bang--
the sound of baited breath.
till it cleared the hole with a fluid
wedge, its bulbous but pulsing.
its blinking black sheen eaten by
the hole.
as my mind ratiocinated: access
granted!

mark john junor Mar 2014

the canvas on which you are painted

the day like a beautiful woman
beguiles you from the dark path that
your troubles lead you
the spring air itself seeks to
enlighten and revive

but stained is the canvas on which you
are painted
and while they are rich in flavour
the hues in which you are rendered are
filled with traces of the darkness that begat you
and even the hint of which leads you to this place

a whooping crane glides close to the chop of the water
wheeling on the turn of the breeze
the lakes dark waters give no tale to its depths
only reflects the jewels of the sun

you stand there in the shade of a pinetree
and with stillness grasping you heart
watching the day unfold unhurried
it tries once again to beguile you from these
shadows of thought
with the sounds of children's joyful play
and the rush of eagerness as a passenger jet rises high above
delivering its fragile cargo to bright futures
to the travellers quest to discover the lost country
and find their own kingdoms under the sun

but after such time as this
it takes more than mere distractions
to bend a life's path

i would give much to see your smile
would offer to stand the night-watch
with the weary men of the dutch gate
would render worlds with the pen
but you cast aside such things
this is your own dark road and
alone upon it you must tread

((begat, beget...apples and rocketships))

Zywa Aug 2020

[ Jumping in the snow ]

Jumping in the snow,

dancing under the pine-trees –

snowdance, pinetree jumps.

Collection "Without reserve"

#inlove

— The End —