Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
💚
SELF POEM
Published
4th Feb 2023 10:26pm
4th Feb 2023 10:26pm
Shared
Shared (spoken)
Close your eyes,
exhale the weight,
of all of those bones
tucking in your body parts,
all of your follicles,
all of your cells,
set down the faces
of folk you've dismayed,
situations you aren't proud of,
the sea of self-doubt.
Instead list me three,
three things you like
about your brain,
the way it is wired,
the meaning of your joy,
the things that have given you strength.
Now your history,
places you've stepped,
opportunities you've taken,
spaces...
Close your eyes,
exhale the weight,
of all of those bones
tucking in your body parts,
all of your follicles,
all of your cells,
set down the faces
of folk you've dismayed,
situations you aren't proud of,
the sea of self-doubt.
Instead list me three,
three things you like
about your brain,
the way it is wired,
the meaning of your joy,
the things that have given you strength.
Now your history,
places you've stepped,
opportunities you've taken,
spaces...
#home
#learning
#healing
39 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
4th Feb 2023 4:43pm
4th Feb 2023 4:43pm
Motherwound
Raise your hand
if your make up has been
irrevocably changed
by a mother wound.
(this is for you, us, them)
Put your hand on your chest
if you don't know what a mother wound is. And beat it there if you do
but it wasn't you it happened to.
Close your eyes,
stay with me,
and try to go with the goodness,
to move with the light.
My Mother had an eye for design,
traced across crochet curtains,
French dressing tables,
kilim rugs,
welsh dressers,...
if your make up has been
irrevocably changed
by a mother wound.
(this is for you, us, them)
Put your hand on your chest
if you don't know what a mother wound is. And beat it there if you do
but it wasn't you it happened to.
Close your eyes,
stay with me,
and try to go with the goodness,
to move with the light.
My Mother had an eye for design,
traced across crochet curtains,
French dressing tables,
kilim rugs,
welsh dressers,...
#love
#healing
44 reads
3 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
31st Jan 2023 4:16pm
31st Jan 2023 4:16pm
Spring II
The birds outside are chittering,
before dusk,
births are being considered,
wood pigeons coo,
sparrows and wrens charm their way,
it's churchbells to the field rows,
to trees reconversing above earth.
It is a wonderment amongst the rabble,
warmth sensed within burrows.
Pond life reimagined after frost.
These are hardy beasts,
each hibernate through the bitterness,
share songs as if toasting to the light.
before dusk,
births are being considered,
wood pigeons coo,
sparrows and wrens charm their way,
it's churchbells to the field rows,
to trees reconversing above earth.
It is a wonderment amongst the rabble,
warmth sensed within burrows.
Pond life reimagined after frost.
These are hardy beasts,
each hibernate through the bitterness,
share songs as if toasting to the light.
#hope
#birds
#spring
41 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
31st Jan 2023 4:09pm
31st Jan 2023 4:09pm
Spring
And every moon drifter
has risen their neck to the light,
dusting the soil with a luminous void,
stems of themselves - violent Spring.
The season is scattering lowly,
as if reminding us of Sun,
tides calming in accordance,
bright yellow and purple in the folds.
It's a bordering between spaces,
bud and leaf sparking on finger ends,
shrubs, climbers and trees,
everything, everywhere awakening.
The earth is dreaming up
new life.
has risen their neck to the light,
dusting the soil with a luminous void,
stems of themselves - violent Spring.
The season is scattering lowly,
as if reminding us of Sun,
tides calming in accordance,
bright yellow and purple in the folds.
It's a bordering between spaces,
bud and leaf sparking on finger ends,
shrubs, climbers and trees,
everything, everywhere awakening.
The earth is dreaming up
new life.
#happiness
#hope
#spring
#nature
#rebirth
42 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
29th Jan 2023 10:47am
29th Jan 2023 10:47am
Kindling
I trace the bias of your mouth
with the back of my palm
to the tip of my index finger.
It is not
the way a moth above us
hungers for energy, bangs on a shade,
nor the way it flutters small, it's body
starving a way through existence,
buzzing on life, just to breed.
It is not the way I learned
at a quarter to two,
some hours earlier,
that trees are bleached by Sun,
after dying, on an exposed site.
I'd thought that lightning did that.
And it is not the chit of a bird in a wood,
just to the left of your porchstand. ...
with the back of my palm
to the tip of my index finger.
It is not
the way a moth above us
hungers for energy, bangs on a shade,
nor the way it flutters small, it's body
starving a way through existence,
buzzing on life, just to breed.
It is not the way I learned
at a quarter to two,
some hours earlier,
that trees are bleached by Sun,
after dying, on an exposed site.
I'd thought that lightning did that.
And it is not the chit of a bird in a wood,
just to the left of your porchstand. ...
#nature
#seductive
78 reads
7 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
27th Jan 2023 5:20pm
27th Jan 2023 5:20pm
Shapeshifter
Shapeshifter
She is in water,
between lands,
body full and blue and still,
exhaling.
Grasses move,
shoals flash by her,
submarine volcanoes erupt -
in near silence.
She is
between spaces,
without judgement,
analysing
what was once left
on shore.
There,
between the then and now,
between the loss and growth,
she is neither malleable nor ridged,
ruined nor fully built,
neither healed nor wounded
and there,
in the inbetween,
where stars have eyes ...
She is in water,
between lands,
body full and blue and still,
exhaling.
Grasses move,
shoals flash by her,
submarine volcanoes erupt -
in near silence.
She is
between spaces,
without judgement,
analysing
what was once left
on shore.
There,
between the then and now,
between the loss and growth,
she is neither malleable nor ridged,
ruined nor fully built,
neither healed nor wounded
and there,
in the inbetween,
where stars have eyes ...
#universe
#animals
#nature #humankind
#nature #humankind
62 reads
2 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Jan 2023 11:10pm
25th Jan 2023 11:10pm
"What would your superpower be?“
One morning,
while sitting crossed legged,
on second floor carpeted space.
I said
"I want to eat all the plastic
and turn it to fresh energy.
That would be my superpower."
And you said,
"I'd like to never die."
and he said
"I'd like to shoot electric fire beams,"
and another wanted gills,
and one wanted to control air,
and one wanted to be able to fly in it,
and one said their only power
would maybe be to be green
or perhaps to be invisible all together.
She and I smiled at each other, ...
while sitting crossed legged,
on second floor carpeted space.
I said
"I want to eat all the plastic
and turn it to fresh energy.
That would be my superpower."
And you said,
"I'd like to never die."
and he said
"I'd like to shoot electric fire beams,"
and another wanted gills,
and one wanted to control air,
and one wanted to be able to fly in it,
and one said their only power
would maybe be to be green
or perhaps to be invisible all together.
She and I smiled at each other, ...
#happiness
#hope
#uplifting #gratitude
#uplifting #gratitude
69 reads
4 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
21st Jan 2023 3:53pm
21st Jan 2023 3:53pm
Rush
#nature
#sensual
#bisexual
90 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
19th Jan 2023 4:59pm
19th Jan 2023 4:59pm
Fog
It's all there in my memory,
being processed, here,
on roof of my mouth.
The pulse,
each beat a beat to oblivion,
founded upon choices made.
I watch a fire spread cage walls,
hours after ice has explored mine.
The sun sets beyond pane, left side.
A feeling of freeze
as it turns into fire
is still sunk into my nailbeds.
And the ravens sail overhead,
and the water turns to wine,
and the evening melts
as Moorland snow.
being processed, here,
on roof of my mouth.
The pulse,
each beat a beat to oblivion,
founded upon choices made.
I watch a fire spread cage walls,
hours after ice has explored mine.
The sun sets beyond pane, left side.
A feeling of freeze
as it turns into fire
is still sunk into my nailbeds.
And the ravens sail overhead,
and the water turns to wine,
and the evening melts
as Moorland snow.
#nature
#sleep
44 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
14th Jan 2023 8:23pm
14th Jan 2023 8:23pm
growth
growth
Some days I walk miles with melancholia,
there in my pocket,
residue on my hands.
We said
it's not the material you want though is it,
when reading,
not stood up here,
holding my grief to the light,
not understanding the need for relief
in everyone who turns up,
pulls up a pew -
but I see loneliness as a bottle of eyes
of every lover I've ever quested
and all the lovers I haven't.
I see heartache as a barrelmate's drum,
the inside of my skin, the colour of my marrow.
And...
Some days I walk miles with melancholia,
there in my pocket,
residue on my hands.
We said
it's not the material you want though is it,
when reading,
not stood up here,
holding my grief to the light,
not understanding the need for relief
in everyone who turns up,
pulls up a pew -
but I see loneliness as a bottle of eyes
of every lover I've ever quested
and all the lovers I haven't.
I see heartache as a barrelmate's drum,
the inside of my skin, the colour of my marrow.
And...
#sadness
#dark
70 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
13th Jan 2023 10:30pm
13th Jan 2023 10:30pm
a crowd
That stimulated sky turns away,
perhaps it sees the uncertainty that I'll commit
to anything useful today. It no longer seems
as engaged in this scene so, likely,
it's mutual apathy.
I take the grey on side,
grit cold and walk with it,
scramble the living room of a quarry,
all her slate hued cushions,
around a glass ripple coffee table,
take the long way, over stones,
through Tolkien drapery,
let him help me
stone hop over stream.
It seems safe,
it seems fine
to be in company,
steady company,
nothing to...
perhaps it sees the uncertainty that I'll commit
to anything useful today. It no longer seems
as engaged in this scene so, likely,
it's mutual apathy.
I take the grey on side,
grit cold and walk with it,
scramble the living room of a quarry,
all her slate hued cushions,
around a glass ripple coffee table,
take the long way, over stones,
through Tolkien drapery,
let him help me
stone hop over stream.
It seems safe,
it seems fine
to be in company,
steady company,
nothing to...
#sadness
#identity
57 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Jan 2023 10:00pm
13th Jan 2023 10:00pm
Cold air
After a dry day,
spent with a diurnal species,
when the thymes and the rosemarys
are rested from rain,
in came a wind,
an atmospheric motion,
the magnitude of which
was neither steady
nor hazardous.
I listened to the silence of birds,
telling each other secrets
about the uprisings of worms
between eaves,
a break
from that ceaseless squabbling
seen in the earlier morning.
Smoked in the belly of a light,
waning Moon
and by morning
all was calm again,
the uncertain, weary storm...
spent with a diurnal species,
when the thymes and the rosemarys
are rested from rain,
in came a wind,
an atmospheric motion,
the magnitude of which
was neither steady
nor hazardous.
I listened to the silence of birds,
telling each other secrets
about the uprisings of worms
between eaves,
a break
from that ceaseless squabbling
seen in the earlier morning.
Smoked in the belly of a light,
waning Moon
and by morning
all was calm again,
the uncertain, weary storm...
#night
#wind
#dawn
44 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
