Out To Pasture

The sheep are grazing, the hay is baled and sunflowers and goldenrod are abloom.  Here's another set of pics from one of my photo-forays, for you to use as writing inspiration, taken in various locations in Central and Western Massachusetts.  

Write whatever comes to mind, as many poems as you want, any style, length, no collabs, one week.

http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp333/LisaM0214/IMG_0620_zpsdry2ul1k.jpg
http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp333/LisaM0214/IMG_0578_zpsog6baxqn.jpg
http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp333/LisaM0214/IMG_0520_zpscotauzvw.jpg
http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp333/LisaM0214/IMG_0519_zpssmafbgkc.jpg
http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp333/LisaM0214/IMG_0504_zpszorwpuc3.jpg

Awesome photography ML!

Gahddess_Worship said:Awesome photography ML!

Thanks so much, GW!  

(Now get writing......)  

Coping and Counting Sheep

blinking against the sun
he never knew there was so much light
he used to leave his home
at the darkness of dawn
to darkness of night, return

he leaned against the fence
looking towards the distance
a land his parents bought
was his at last,
alas what could he do with it

gazing at the sheep in the pasture
he felt an odd kindred spirit
as he was out to pasture too
his tired body could no longer cope
the rigours of his job

so he got his golden watch
allowing him the luxury
to count sheep at night
and all day
leaning on a stretch of fence.

Thanks for starting off, Grace!

When I see photos of sheep in a field, I get mad, because what I really see is people fenced in with nowhere to hide.


Memoirs of a quintessential motherfucker: The Boss Man

The boss man: the one in control of his subordinates; his puppets, my peers, incompetent, lazy sons of bitches.  I don't like the way he time checks the second I arrive, the way he points his finger pulling on the string.

It makes me sick, the way he talks down to me; patronising, obnoxious jerk.  It's infuriating when he finds every excuse not to pay me attention, to dock my wage, swindle me of entitlements, cancel my allowances, obstruct my promotions, smothering all ambition when he smiles... smugly, and deals me a demotion, a severance, a redundancy; my death penalty.

My boss, he's a fucking deadbeat, period.  It's no surprise accidents happen everyday, like a lump of hardwood that dropped from the sky, when the power wasn't isolated, and the wheel nuts cut loose.  The night he worked back late, assuming he was alone.

Five days later, they found the body on the backseat of his car, left abandoned off the highway at a rest stop, frequented by hardcore cruisers and haters; and the unemployed.


QMF

Velvet Husk Veneer
The sun rises; brightening concealing shadows of a hidden grove into full view,
Skies in hues of vibrant azure shades, banish lingering twilight,
As the sunbeams make their way to illuminate colorful foliage,
Buzzing, busy bumblebee races to forage the choicest bounty,
Sunflower petals glowing; backlit by the dawn creeping across the horizon,
Evident in the center, are seeds encased by protective, splintery shells,
Cawing raven circles the collection of yellow blooms, on the blackest of wings,
Sunflower rests in the comfort of knowledge of tender seeds' rebirth,
Sensing vibrations created from paper-thin wings of its pollinator,
Cause the blossoms to expand and spread to welcome a tiny visitor,
Alighting upon its cherished treasure, promising future beauty multiplied,
Powder covers the laborer bee in a fine dusting of purfumed spores,
Joy & fear; acceptance & denial; trusting Mother Earth aligning with Father God,
Gentle breeze carries the predatory, feathered scavenger within striking distance,
Terror escapes soundlessly as the raven dives to scourge the delicate plant,
Cascades of parched seedlings rain down onto red clay, crumbling dirt,
Single sprout gains momentum to penetrate loosened top soil; covered in gritty silk,
Tendrils strive to break free from confining coffins to produce sacred growth,
Shoots of greenery push up through weeds and gravel denying precious sacrament,
Dewdrops nourish the bud luxuriously to germinate into a spiney stalk,
Overhead, the elder, statesman sunflower watches with pride as the bambino survives.

Comp extended one more week, per request!

Job Satisfaction

Dum dee dum dee dum
Geez this is mind numbing
Was I put on God’s green earth for this,
To chew grass all day?
My jaw is aching
I am exhausted from standing
It’s pathetic, I know
but I can’t wait for my haircut
Welcome relief from this monotony
Now dog he’s got it made
By the master’s side all day
Nipping at our heels when he feels like it
Always barking orders
I’d trade places any day.
Well there’s a tasty look’n patch over there
BOB DON’T YOU DARE!
I saw it first

Enough with the run here run there
bring them here or over there
I am NOT your boy
I was bred for greatness
Not to be some ovine traffic cop
I’m better than this
Chase your own damn sheep
They are soooo stupid
If someone nipped at my heels I’d follow them
But no not these idiots
I’d like to see mister big-shot
Get off his fat behind and do this job
He wouldn’t last a day
And just how much
does my tongue have to loll
before he gets the clue
I am tired and thirsty
NO NO NO NOT THAT WAY!


Just where are they getting off to?
GO GET’EM BOY
Is it my imagination
or did he really just snarl at me?
No treats for him tonight
I am not doing well this year
The price of wool is down
I can’t qualify for federal subsidy
Maybe it’s time I sell
Those developers
have been nipping at my heels
Common sense says
take their offer
It might be nice to retire
Move to sunny Boca
This field
has been in my family for centuries
My shoulders are slumped
By the weight of my ancestors
BRING‘M IN BOY!

As I lay.

As I lay. ! extreme content !
A I lay awake in bed
I think of the hard times we been through
The good times we had
Now all I can think of is how
How could you do this to me
You lied you cheated on me
And yet you still say you love me?

You whore
I hope you die in your sleep
You dumb bitch Ill rip your heart from your chest
Ill crush it in my hand make you see
See what you have done to me
Now ill kill you and burn your horrible corps
As I lay here all I can do is smile knowing
Knowing that you are dead you fucking whore!.

CHOOSING RICKETS

When you say you can take trash and turn it into treasure,
Sadly, the opposite statement we must also endure.

For one person's treasure remains trash to me,
And I do mean this poem to be taken most politely.

Buttercups, bales of hay, bleating in the sun,
How could one argue with such springtime fun?

Golden, fanning petals look upon clear blue sky - Delight!
Sheep and lambs graze, wool coats catching the light.

Meanwhile...A boy with a tissue is given a fright

Atishoo! Atishoo! Hanki-less he calls
That darn pollen will be his downfall

His eyes puffy red, the white bloodshot through and through
The Benedryl's been taken, what good will that do?

The sun gives a glare to his fragile red eyes,
No sunglasses to help stop the pain, as his retina fries.

Buzz goes the bee in the nearby summer air,
Oh wait that's a wasp and I instantly scare.

Wait, don't move! Stand still, it's better that way.
Ouch, now it's stung me, I should have run away.

The wheezing is worse, the asthma's kicked in,
I'm sticky and sweating and my chest's clamping in.

Flies to the left of me, nettles to the right,
The countryside haven sure is a delight.

Foot in a cowpat, flies more numerous still,
I pant with horror as I prepare to mount that hill.

All in the blaze of the midday summer sun,
Can't complain in the slightest, we're having such fun.

Think to yourself of all the wonderful vitamin D,
Actually, screw that! Give me rickets, a dark room and a nice cup of tea.

AFRIENDOFTINA

Sunflower for a Day

I'm always glad and fancy free
whenever on a drive I see
I've come across a pasture scene,
a sweeping vista, gold and green.

I'm in an element serene
that takes me back as a preteen,
when I would run and stalk, and climb
among the hay bales I would find.

If it had rained the night before,
I'd inhale heady scents galore
of cow manure and waving grass,
of country aromatics pass.

I hide among the flower patch
to decorate my braided thatch.
You may not think that it's fine art,
I'm just a country girl at heart.

http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f248/jadepandora/out%20to%20pasture00.png

Great entries everyone!