Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
STORY POEM
Published
Today 9:00am
Today 9:00am
Fox and Pine
If I sang to the trees of you,
opened up the shell of my youth,
and beat my fists on fallen leaves,
it wouldn't make it come back to life.
You were crisp, I wasn't enough,
not lean as whip, or a dog to love.
I was feral, wild as a fox,
with a disease, medication lost.
You ran with me, between the pines,
I lived for the intertwine of our lives,
had to find another reason when you left,
too late to trust you when you returned bereft.
opened up the shell of my youth,
and beat my fists on fallen leaves,
it wouldn't make it come back to life.
You were crisp, I wasn't enough,
not lean as whip, or a dog to love.
I was feral, wild as a fox,
with a disease, medication lost.
You ran with me, between the pines,
I lived for the intertwine of our lives,
had to find another reason when you left,
too late to trust you when you returned bereft.
#nature
17 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
Yesterday 9:32am
Yesterday 9:32am
The Secrets of Orford.
Rushes - it's the sound when cool wind whips through them
and my body, compiled of earth and spit and dust responds
by soaring,
setting sail above sunken ships
in silt and flat and flow.
Warblers peel grass from vine
by rivers filled with weeds.
The manmade hills protect the castle,
one of stone that exposes my spirit to yearning,
a longing longer than I have the will to stretch my arms,
it calms, sat upon a mound of my choosing.
I can think of worse places to flee, to walk
these fields as shoes brim over with mud, ...
and my body, compiled of earth and spit and dust responds
by soaring,
setting sail above sunken ships
in silt and flat and flow.
Warblers peel grass from vine
by rivers filled with weeds.
The manmade hills protect the castle,
one of stone that exposes my spirit to yearning,
a longing longer than I have the will to stretch my arms,
it calms, sat upon a mound of my choosing.
I can think of worse places to flee, to walk
these fields as shoes brim over with mud, ...
#home
#nature
#food
22 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Oct 2019 7:05pm
17th Oct 2019 7:05pm
Hoe Tempered
October, significant chop, 14°c, cold air temp.
You can find it
when we're fighting against the tide,
you can file it as an fiery dedication that's not mine,
we can take gulps of salt water, spit it back and keep gasping. You
can keep your sense of pride,
it rests within the ride my arms, legs, float and energy gave you.
Twice I've been with you when you've needed saving.
You're a danger.
We don't sail this water,
as Selkies, by trial
and error.
There can't be error, ever.
We don't "give it a go" with...
You can find it
when we're fighting against the tide,
you can file it as an fiery dedication that's not mine,
we can take gulps of salt water, spit it back and keep gasping. You
can keep your sense of pride,
it rests within the ride my arms, legs, float and energy gave you.
Twice I've been with you when you've needed saving.
You're a danger.
We don't sail this water,
as Selkies, by trial
and error.
There can't be error, ever.
We don't "give it a go" with...
#anger
#humankind
#support
26 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
16th Oct 2019 7:05am
16th Oct 2019 7:05am
Plym above the Weir
Mid October, river level 0.7 and rising, 14°c, 400m
I was told not to swim above a weir,
too fast flowing, apparently you'd roll beneath, hit again,
again and again by the weight of water.
The burn is back,
churns my nerve
pushed against the pace of a fast flowing weir.
We enter above
scramble
barefoot over upturned slate and rubble,
fumble
for a little courage, splash
neck, forearms, breast
and sink,
slow,
into cold.
I let it settle
around the extremities as if nettle stings...
I was told not to swim above a weir,
too fast flowing, apparently you'd roll beneath, hit again,
again and again by the weight of water.
The burn is back,
churns my nerve
pushed against the pace of a fast flowing weir.
We enter above
scramble
barefoot over upturned slate and rubble,
fumble
for a little courage, splash
neck, forearms, breast
and sink,
slow,
into cold.
I let it settle
around the extremities as if nettle stings...
#forest
#river
#nature #freedom
#nature #freedom
25 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Oct 2019 3:55am
14th Oct 2019 3:55am
Rockhollow Series: October Progress
Winter blinks,
awaking,
almost
strokes long fingers over naked ladies budding,
coneflowers,
windflowers,
the like.
Spikes of old artichoke are cut away, leaving fresh growth,
dragged across gold sand paths to compost,
tomatoes too.
One lone dragonfly hovers
in the periphery,
brown, oversized, slower.
I've been clipping
long strands of willow,
over, over again,
discarding the slats,
pulling away wire binds,
stretching it thin across spaced decking poles
and strapping...
awaking,
almost
strokes long fingers over naked ladies budding,
coneflowers,
windflowers,
the like.
Spikes of old artichoke are cut away, leaving fresh growth,
dragged across gold sand paths to compost,
tomatoes too.
One lone dragonfly hovers
in the periphery,
brown, oversized, slower.
I've been clipping
long strands of willow,
over, over again,
discarding the slats,
pulling away wire binds,
stretching it thin across spaced decking poles
and strapping...
#identity
#winter
#nature #evolution
#nature #evolution
32 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
12th Oct 2019 8:22am
12th Oct 2019 8:22am
Safety in Rockhollow
My life reset,
doors reopened,
wolves of my mind allowed out on the wild Moor
as soon as my feet touched Devon earth.
In the rain I wander through the garden,
more hedgehog than human,
digesting sights, scents, a spider making a silver web beneath the cherry tree.
I pour out water from barrows
and terracotta trays.
My child plays in the summerhouse
sounds of sopping sky bounce on the roof.
I charge my fingers into digging
tulip bulbs by Autumn grey,
cornflower seeds thrown on...
doors reopened,
wolves of my mind allowed out on the wild Moor
as soon as my feet touched Devon earth.
In the rain I wander through the garden,
more hedgehog than human,
digesting sights, scents, a spider making a silver web beneath the cherry tree.
I pour out water from barrows
and terracotta trays.
My child plays in the summerhouse
sounds of sopping sky bounce on the roof.
I charge my fingers into digging
tulip bulbs by Autumn grey,
cornflower seeds thrown on...
#flowers
#nature
#freedom #escape
#freedom #escape
30 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
11th Oct 2019 4:51am
11th Oct 2019 4:51am
Motherhood
#internationaldayofthegirl2019
So I am up at 4,
standing in my kitchen, socks only,
putting on a laundry.
Just finished feeding
my two year old -
judge me in your own time.
I'm conscious of how openly
gender expectation lives in my home,
how it was completely acceptable to be greeted by work,
how my child must be huffing this ordinary like oxygen -
creating daily norms.
I wonder what her norm will be
bar regular bleeds and men telling her she's crazy
for feeling.
I want her to be all-feeling, ...
So I am up at 4,
standing in my kitchen, socks only,
putting on a laundry.
Just finished feeding
my two year old -
judge me in your own time.
I'm conscious of how openly
gender expectation lives in my home,
how it was completely acceptable to be greeted by work,
how my child must be huffing this ordinary like oxygen -
creating daily norms.
I wonder what her norm will be
bar regular bleeds and men telling her she's crazy
for feeling.
I want her to be all-feeling, ...
#motherhood
#daughter
#wisdom
54 reads
1 Comment
ANGER POEM
Published
10th Oct 2019 8:14pm
10th Oct 2019 8:14pm
House Management
House Management
Priorities - not had a shower
in a few days,
lost the energy to cook -
no food in the house anyway,
light hurts the head,
laundries need doing,
three baskets full and a pile by the bed,
a bed that's not been changed in weeks.
Sheets that have been washed
reek of damp, sitting in the machine
too long,
lamp needs a replacement bulb -
daily sobrieties
needing drowning,
feel like you're failing.
Almost a Sims character gone rogue, flailing,
could build four...
Priorities - not had a shower
in a few days,
lost the energy to cook -
no food in the house anyway,
light hurts the head,
laundries need doing,
three baskets full and a pile by the bed,
a bed that's not been changed in weeks.
Sheets that have been washed
reek of damp, sitting in the machine
too long,
lamp needs a replacement bulb -
daily sobrieties
needing drowning,
feel like you're failing.
Almost a Sims character gone rogue, flailing,
could build four...
#TruthOfLife
#MentalHealth
#WritingPoetry
65 reads
10 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
9th Oct 2019 4:27pm
9th Oct 2019 4:27pm
Seasons
Some days
I want to love you
seasonally,
to be but earth in the ginger of Autumn,
for you to fall and lay still against me in your ochre shapes,
to see the rain wash through your weight,
feel you disintegrate,
lay in wait,
to give energy to your life source, nurture buds and blossom on your bearer,
see you come again, and again, and again, rejoice in sunshine
- embrace you wholly,
irregularly,
in the weakest version of yourself
silently supporting you in your best.
Yes, I want to be your...
I want to love you
seasonally,
to be but earth in the ginger of Autumn,
for you to fall and lay still against me in your ochre shapes,
to see the rain wash through your weight,
feel you disintegrate,
lay in wait,
to give energy to your life source, nurture buds and blossom on your bearer,
see you come again, and again, and again, rejoice in sunshine
- embrace you wholly,
irregularly,
in the weakest version of yourself
silently supporting you in your best.
Yes, I want to be your...
#love
#trees
#nature
59 reads
5 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
8th Oct 2019 3:27pm
8th Oct 2019 3:27pm
in Walderingfield
A boat is pulled from her water
white, flaked,
blue, splintered -
men seeking to store,
prevent rot in the base of her.
I watch, throw a rolled stone into glass-flat,
stare down the curved eel Moon still combatting the Sun
- a warmer dawn
than the dawn before.
A little Egret sails
above boats, below
irregular clouds.
The linking sounds of lapping overtake all else as we wander
further from people,
stones collected, thrown,
wet seeping into clean on socks.
I...
white, flaked,
blue, splintered -
men seeking to store,
prevent rot in the base of her.
I watch, throw a rolled stone into glass-flat,
stare down the curved eel Moon still combatting the Sun
- a warmer dawn
than the dawn before.
A little Egret sails
above boats, below
irregular clouds.
The linking sounds of lapping overtake all else as we wander
further from people,
stones collected, thrown,
wet seeping into clean on socks.
I...
#love
#home
#sea #nature
#sea #nature
48 reads
10 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
6th Oct 2019 8:45pm
6th Oct 2019 8:45pm
Suffolk
On home turf
or so the Earth should feel under heel
but doesn't,
it shudders, as if cracking under the pressure
of my being, judders
with the weight of a history tangled
as if roots bound and sodden in a pot, weakening the stock,
on home turf, as if watching recorded reruns on VHS by candlelight, in a house left empty too long, as if the roof is sinking,
as if the ocean isn't there
because it isn't,
all mud flat and pine beneath the soles,
slate scarcely seen,
bacon bait on lines for crabs, cows in the fields, boats in...
or so the Earth should feel under heel
but doesn't,
it shudders, as if cracking under the pressure
of my being, judders
with the weight of a history tangled
as if roots bound and sodden in a pot, weakening the stock,
on home turf, as if watching recorded reruns on VHS by candlelight, in a house left empty too long, as if the roof is sinking,
as if the ocean isn't there
because it isn't,
all mud flat and pine beneath the soles,
slate scarcely seen,
bacon bait on lines for crabs, cows in the fields, boats in...
#childhood
#home
#escape
44 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
4th Oct 2019 9:03pm
4th Oct 2019 9:03pm
Time
i am the banshee
singing songs upon the horizon
at you
not to you
across a great and long divide
that keeps us divided
subtracted versions of ourselves
extensions endless
if only we would raise our fearing fingers to the fragile
cracks in the gully
we were guilty
of cowardice then
of cowardice now
i sing
songs of old meaning
at you
not to you
long songs at you
the version of you i keep multiplied
digit equal to...
singing songs upon the horizon
at you
not to you
across a great and long divide
that keeps us divided
subtracted versions of ourselves
extensions endless
if only we would raise our fearing fingers to the fragile
cracks in the gully
we were guilty
of cowardice then
of cowardice now
i sing
songs of old meaning
at you
not to you
long songs at you
the version of you i keep multiplied
digit equal to...
#love
#fire
#nature
53 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
