Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
💚
SELF POEM
Published
24th Nov 2023 9:23pm
24th Nov 2023 9:23pm
They call it harm.
#anger
#women
#home
31 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2023 11:45pm
23rd Nov 2023 11:45pm
They call it grooming
#childhood
#abuse
#manipulation
44 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
20th Nov 2023 8:06pm
20th Nov 2023 8:06pm
One to one
One to One
The bough breaks, windows wide,
feet beat concrete, your soapbox chest -
It's been sinking and rising,
the tap in you poured over,
injustice, mountains,
Jurassic Park,
the carpets and floors are blue.
Your body is enraged, visibly shakes.
And we're playing Headbanz,
you are,
for a moment,
an apple outside of time,
and I'm a toaster,
we guess blind -
like we've been doing all day.
Where will I be?
Who will I be put with?
How might it go?
For you there's no calm room,
no...
The bough breaks, windows wide,
feet beat concrete, your soapbox chest -
It's been sinking and rising,
the tap in you poured over,
injustice, mountains,
Jurassic Park,
the carpets and floors are blue.
Your body is enraged, visibly shakes.
And we're playing Headbanz,
you are,
for a moment,
an apple outside of time,
and I'm a toaster,
we guess blind -
like we've been doing all day.
Where will I be?
Who will I be put with?
How might it go?
For you there's no calm room,
no...
#hope
#sleep
#job
53 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th Nov 2023 9:32pm
15th Nov 2023 9:32pm
Scene casting 1
In the village, scarcely a mile from a city,
where fumes of cars seem less apparent,
where stars are more visible, the freckles of space,
the nicotiana lingers,
opens pale petals ready
to greet the bleak Moon.
An Atlas moth will hover,
wings half dipping,
dripping in shadows,
partially exposed.
The streetlight will lean,
over a pea-green rover,
made somewhere between
nineteen fifty-eight and seventy-three.
The man who drives it is quiet,
Scottish, five nine,
walks a Red Setter
with sunset to...
where fumes of cars seem less apparent,
where stars are more visible, the freckles of space,
the nicotiana lingers,
opens pale petals ready
to greet the bleak Moon.
An Atlas moth will hover,
wings half dipping,
dripping in shadows,
partially exposed.
The streetlight will lean,
over a pea-green rover,
made somewhere between
nineteen fifty-eight and seventy-three.
The man who drives it is quiet,
Scottish, five nine,
walks a Red Setter
with sunset to...
#home
#dogs
#night #water
#night #water
52 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Nov 2023 4:32pm
12th Nov 2023 4:32pm
Photographs, videos
They hold onto our bodies like explosive devices,
it was clear at the time we provided the buttons,
provided the mechanisms, filmed how to use them
but what isn't clear is when the consent is retracted,
when the contract is defective,
when explicitly or non-explicitly
one no longer wants their energy exposed
to the universe or even to the light of one room.
But it isn't small margins,
those who collect these bleak weapons,
mass destruction in the aether of time,
no longer of use, or not use I'd want...
it was clear at the time we provided the buttons,
provided the mechanisms, filmed how to use them
but what isn't clear is when the consent is retracted,
when the contract is defective,
when explicitly or non-explicitly
one no longer wants their energy exposed
to the universe or even to the light of one room.
But it isn't small margins,
those who collect these bleak weapons,
mass destruction in the aether of time,
no longer of use, or not use I'd want...
#anger
#women
#war #fear
#war #fear
76 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Nov 2023 00:31am
11th Nov 2023 00:31am
Moon
We lazed
upon a crescent moon submerged to the West
embedded in ornamental planting schemes,
soft rushes, alliums, malvas, roses,
behind them, between a moat
and Suffolk-red, brick-stacked walls
- there ached two mulberry trees,
heavy with harvest,
gnarled by age -
stained the fingers,
stained the pockets of light bathed clothes,
a shrill, glittering, bittersome rouge.
Beyond were two white squares,
bordered by box,
crammed with cosmos and yarrow,
angelica, honesty, dahlias,
we slept between iron...
upon a crescent moon submerged to the West
embedded in ornamental planting schemes,
soft rushes, alliums, malvas, roses,
behind them, between a moat
and Suffolk-red, brick-stacked walls
- there ached two mulberry trees,
heavy with harvest,
gnarled by age -
stained the fingers,
stained the pockets of light bathed clothes,
a shrill, glittering, bittersome rouge.
Beyond were two white squares,
bordered by box,
crammed with cosmos and yarrow,
angelica, honesty, dahlias,
we slept between iron...
#moon
#nature
#peace
61 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
7th Nov 2023 9:30pm
7th Nov 2023 9:30pm
Dragons
Dragons
I watch the sky on high alert
as if the whole thing might fall down one day -
earth beneath my feet as I -
exhaust of hunting and roaring,
the push and pull of my Jurassic era,
holding that instinct as a lagoon in my palms.
Reality is that I am a girl once clawed,
in a way many couldn't comprehend,
became furious from it.
And you took me back, boy.
You, with your hands
cupping your own indignant rage,
roaring it at me, full force,
letting yourself feel as you tore blue from the eyeline -
me seeing...
I watch the sky on high alert
as if the whole thing might fall down one day -
earth beneath my feet as I -
exhaust of hunting and roaring,
the push and pull of my Jurassic era,
holding that instinct as a lagoon in my palms.
Reality is that I am a girl once clawed,
in a way many couldn't comprehend,
became furious from it.
And you took me back, boy.
You, with your hands
cupping your own indignant rage,
roaring it at me, full force,
letting yourself feel as you tore blue from the eyeline -
me seeing...
#anger
#childhood
#dragons
56 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
2nd Nov 2023 9:41am
2nd Nov 2023 9:41am
Addiction
The vice crawls across a table,
finds a crack in a wood-silled window,
pauses, waits, catches flies.
We've all got one, or five,
though there's something kindred
in the ones that are inevitably self-defeating.
The ones that collapse in on themselves,
like a root after Autumnal hollowing.
I watch my Grandmother along the North Sea
eat her wars into an oblivion,
suck the fingers of those who bruised her,
bury the heart so deeply,
no one could find it's wings,
so pressures become physical rather than mental,
for...
finds a crack in a wood-silled window,
pauses, waits, catches flies.
We've all got one, or five,
though there's something kindred
in the ones that are inevitably self-defeating.
The ones that collapse in on themselves,
like a root after Autumnal hollowing.
I watch my Grandmother along the North Sea
eat her wars into an oblivion,
suck the fingers of those who bruised her,
bury the heart so deeply,
no one could find it's wings,
so pressures become physical rather than mental,
for...
#books
#tobacco
#food #addiction
#food #addiction
77 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
30th Oct 2023 2:48pm
30th Oct 2023 2:48pm
Frome
Frome
He gets the call,
clear as crystal,
the silver threads of smoke,
clouds above his coffee -
they turn cold.
Forty eight hours,
she says,
not more,
no more left,
she says.
And I remember that call
for my Mother,
gangrene and morphine,
remember who made it,
how their voice was veiled in light,
crackled in the emptiness
between them and I.
This isn't that call,
it's his,
his son,
his cancer,
his blood pooling in the sink,
his forty eight hours
stretched thin with...
He gets the call,
clear as crystal,
the silver threads of smoke,
clouds above his coffee -
they turn cold.
Forty eight hours,
she says,
not more,
no more left,
she says.
And I remember that call
for my Mother,
gangrene and morphine,
remember who made it,
how their voice was veiled in light,
crackled in the emptiness
between them and I.
This isn't that call,
it's his,
his son,
his cancer,
his blood pooling in the sink,
his forty eight hours
stretched thin with...
#grief
#death
#cancer
78 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
28th Oct 2023 10:17pm
28th Oct 2023 10:17pm
To continue
There's a murder of cows,
a herd of crows
resting in the sweet of a chestnut tree.
It's all or nothing.
I take her into the mire
and we come out cleaner,
make a pack-horse of the spine of me
by a gate,
she climbs a stone wall,
minds the barbing -
the pooling is too deep,
soil too swamped
for her tiny feet,
the ground a slick hazard,
made for riding,
we all have someone
willing to handle a hazard
to save our tenderest face.
a herd of crows
resting in the sweet of a chestnut tree.
It's all or nothing.
I take her into the mire
and we come out cleaner,
make a pack-horse of the spine of me
by a gate,
she climbs a stone wall,
minds the barbing -
the pooling is too deep,
soil too swamped
for her tiny feet,
the ground a slick hazard,
made for riding,
we all have someone
willing to handle a hazard
to save our tenderest face.
#mother
#rain
#nature
61 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
26th Oct 2023 11:09pm
26th Oct 2023 11:09pm
Read
Still trying to write every day, achieving it thus far.
Read
Last Friday I sat,
bind outstretched,
fore edges exposed
to the grass and her dew,
top a hill, beyond cows
where rain fluttered gentle
on the gutters of a green lane,
each one has a ring to it
as if uttering your name
and I allowed my spirit unfurl,
rest even, toes
outstretched above the lines
of oaks,
and short sprouts
of nettle, thistle, vine.
The river flooded,
wept into marshland,
mire stained the boot.
I didn't...
Read
Last Friday I sat,
bind outstretched,
fore edges exposed
to the grass and her dew,
top a hill, beyond cows
where rain fluttered gentle
on the gutters of a green lane,
each one has a ring to it
as if uttering your name
and I allowed my spirit unfurl,
rest even, toes
outstretched above the lines
of oaks,
and short sprouts
of nettle, thistle, vine.
The river flooded,
wept into marshland,
mire stained the boot.
I didn't...
#love
#home
#sky #nature
#sky #nature
70 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
24th Oct 2023 10:34pm
24th Oct 2023 10:34pm
Burial
The light
reflects off the concrete,
onto the undercarriage
of a shuttlecock fern,
pond drippings play Fs and G minors
a rose reaches,
smattered in thorns,
to become celestial,
a part of the constellation
it's ever denied.
Stars do not grace us,
muddied , encased in an overcast scene.
Loose strife continues,
unyielding to wind
nor to rain
nor to the decaying that continues,
relentless within her marrow.
A mirrorball catches shadows,
and the sky, she rains
as if bereft or relinquishing,
or...
reflects off the concrete,
onto the undercarriage
of a shuttlecock fern,
pond drippings play Fs and G minors
a rose reaches,
smattered in thorns,
to become celestial,
a part of the constellation
it's ever denied.
Stars do not grace us,
muddied , encased in an overcast scene.
Loose strife continues,
unyielding to wind
nor to rain
nor to the decaying that continues,
relentless within her marrow.
A mirrorball catches shadows,
and the sky, she rains
as if bereft or relinquishing,
or...
#night
#water
#nature
57 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
