Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
Today 12:31pm
Today 12:31pm
Rockhollow: Pink
8/30
Rockhollow Series: Pink (Unedited)
Last night I watched a bulbous creature rest above the garden as if a jolly nudist on a beach, mid-Summer.
A rosen, phosphorescent balloon staged upon silver string
drowned in city smog.
I imagined the oddity waning,
losing energy,
exhausting and ejecting from it's space in our 'coal sky,
floating upon Tamar,
flying restlessly to the sea.
There it would rise and fall,
void of reserve,
to be swallowed by a whale come to feeding.
Dawn follows her map,
humidity...
Rockhollow Series: Pink (Unedited)
Last night I watched a bulbous creature rest above the garden as if a jolly nudist on a beach, mid-Summer.
A rosen, phosphorescent balloon staged upon silver string
drowned in city smog.
I imagined the oddity waning,
losing energy,
exhausting and ejecting from it's space in our 'coal sky,
floating upon Tamar,
flying restlessly to the sea.
There it would rise and fall,
void of reserve,
to be swallowed by a whale come to feeding.
Dawn follows her map,
humidity...
#moon
#nature
#NaPoWriMo2020
19 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
Yesterday 3:42pm
Yesterday 3:42pm
Remain
They say blunt force trauma,
mean it in the physical way,
something that stains, fractures the bones of you -
quite the way I do and you do to each other
inside the head.
They lay these terms down, only focusing on the flesh of us, the blood and pumping puss of us,
as if your head was hit by hammer
or windowscreen glass
but it wasn't when
your father webbed his fingers about your door
as if a widow come to lunching on the plump mind of a nine
year old, and it wasn't when the shards of that stuck out of you as Frankenstein bits ...
mean it in the physical way,
something that stains, fractures the bones of you -
quite the way I do and you do to each other
inside the head.
They lay these terms down, only focusing on the flesh of us, the blood and pumping puss of us,
as if your head was hit by hammer
or windowscreen glass
but it wasn't when
your father webbed his fingers about your door
as if a widow come to lunching on the plump mind of a nine
year old, and it wasn't when the shards of that stuck out of you as Frankenstein bits ...
#mother
#childhood
#family
26 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
Yesterday 11:59am
Yesterday 11:59am
Rockhollow Series: Her Majesty
7/30
Rockhollow Series: Her Majesty (unedited)
She darts beds
fleeing imaginary creatures
in a homemade grassy crown.
Echoes of her left
through frayed privet, along desire paths,
in a painted flowerpot filled with soil as tea.
She sails, freedom oozing out of her low legs,
pinecones kicked - hard as footballs,
baked open in Spring Sun.
We rock, left fingers locked,
separate blood mingled
creating her.
Bundle of wonder
orders plastic hippos in and out of terracotta pots. ...
Rockhollow Series: Her Majesty (unedited)
She darts beds
fleeing imaginary creatures
in a homemade grassy crown.
Echoes of her left
through frayed privet, along desire paths,
in a painted flowerpot filled with soil as tea.
She sails, freedom oozing out of her low legs,
pinecones kicked - hard as footballs,
baked open in Spring Sun.
We rock, left fingers locked,
separate blood mingled
creating her.
Bundle of wonder
orders plastic hippos in and out of terracotta pots. ...
#love
#children
#nature #NaPoWriMo2020
#nature #NaPoWriMo2020
19 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th Apr 2020 1:51pm
6th Apr 2020 1:51pm
Rockhollow Series: Fern-low
6/30
Rockhollow Series: Fern-low (unedited)
In the lush again - Devil's cauldron, cardinal butterfly rests upon a sleeper by the stair.
I sip cold tea,
ponder moving the wheelbarrow,
wait for the flutterby to go wandering against
almost air
seeking flowers, I assume.
The swing isn't enough.
I commence my own hunt,
objective uncertain, peeking as voyeur upon arenaria,
he's quietly waxing, weaving layers of white beneath snake-head fritillaries waning loose beneath the pinata.
Sweet peas ravenously chase...
Rockhollow Series: Fern-low (unedited)
In the lush again - Devil's cauldron, cardinal butterfly rests upon a sleeper by the stair.
I sip cold tea,
ponder moving the wheelbarrow,
wait for the flutterby to go wandering against
almost air
seeking flowers, I assume.
The swing isn't enough.
I commence my own hunt,
objective uncertain, peeking as voyeur upon arenaria,
he's quietly waxing, weaving layers of white beneath snake-head fritillaries waning loose beneath the pinata.
Sweet peas ravenously chase...
#flowers
#nature
#NaPoWriMo2020
25 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
5th Apr 2020 12:03pm
5th Apr 2020 12:03pm
Rockhollow Series: Towers
5/30
Rockhollow Series: Towers (unedited)
Wind swims
through 'scapes of emerald cities,
creating slim lakes of rich rotting,
bending towers toward earth
where ants form armies
and bulbs battle up.
Bare feet admit the longing,
a song swallowing soul -
of Summer and of malva and of roses
pouring out oils of ancient scent as whispers.
Under tents of cardoon
white currant cuttings thrive,
promising a current of yield
flowing through Plymouthian heat into harvest-time
and I resign...
Rockhollow Series: Towers (unedited)
Wind swims
through 'scapes of emerald cities,
creating slim lakes of rich rotting,
bending towers toward earth
where ants form armies
and bulbs battle up.
Bare feet admit the longing,
a song swallowing soul -
of Summer and of malva and of roses
pouring out oils of ancient scent as whispers.
Under tents of cardoon
white currant cuttings thrive,
promising a current of yield
flowing through Plymouthian heat into harvest-time
and I resign...
#flowers
#nature
#aging #NaPoWriMo2020
#aging #NaPoWriMo2020
27 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
4th Apr 2020 1:52pm
4th Apr 2020 1:52pm
Rockhollow Series: Passing
4/30
Rockhollow Series: Passing (unedited)
The early afternoon calls for bathing
as if Sun was currency,
as if gulls form melodies
and the house is a Hell.
I rock
belly-down upon writer's swing
harvesting the vibrancy of Aubrieta tumbling over low walls
and cornflower flexing purple claws
and rhubarb stems pumping blood.
Fields of honesty develop across the garden, small seedlings creating an army
later flowering, later ghosts.
I age, Sun kissed and static,
no further energy to grow and bloom.
Today ...
Rockhollow Series: Passing (unedited)
The early afternoon calls for bathing
as if Sun was currency,
as if gulls form melodies
and the house is a Hell.
I rock
belly-down upon writer's swing
harvesting the vibrancy of Aubrieta tumbling over low walls
and cornflower flexing purple claws
and rhubarb stems pumping blood.
Fields of honesty develop across the garden, small seedlings creating an army
later flowering, later ghosts.
I age, Sun kissed and static,
no further energy to grow and bloom.
Today ...
#flowers
#sun
#nature
#aging
#NaPoWriMo2020
30 reads
5 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Apr 2020 1:07pm
3rd Apr 2020 1:07pm
Rockhollow Series: After noon
3/30
Rockhollow Series: After noon
It's cooler today, quieter today,
as if plumes of downing have settled upon the quarantine.
Irises have raised their black heads in the silence, irises
a fifteen year old grubbier self needed while wandering a garden centre
in twenty-seven year old frame.
Violet syringas are budding, first year, I've waited five. The white still refuses.
I pad
gentle Devonian declines,
admiring confused Devonian soil, half damp, half cracked from over-sunning.
The wild garlic flowers earlier here than the...
Rockhollow Series: After noon
It's cooler today, quieter today,
as if plumes of downing have settled upon the quarantine.
Irises have raised their black heads in the silence, irises
a fifteen year old grubbier self needed while wandering a garden centre
in twenty-seven year old frame.
Violet syringas are budding, first year, I've waited five. The white still refuses.
I pad
gentle Devonian declines,
admiring confused Devonian soil, half damp, half cracked from over-sunning.
The wild garlic flowers earlier here than the...
#flowers
#nature
#NaPoWriMo2020
41 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
2nd Apr 2020 3:33pm
2nd Apr 2020 3:33pm
'tica in Spring
honeysuckle moon rise
blush-blue
resting
under hazy sky
you're
caramel tender.
Tongue perched upon ear,
under an umbrella made of my hair.
Fingers
find spar pairs in each other
across moorlands of picnic check.
Bud catching
every second look,
tree, shrub, perennial, bulb.
Life brings the previously hibernating
out in shivers,
wanders wide lengths,
from roots to tips in natural
energy.
Sheets on a breeze rise
virgin-white
under hazy sky.
blush-blue
resting
under hazy sky
you're
caramel tender.
Tongue perched upon ear,
under an umbrella made of my hair.
Fingers
find spar pairs in each other
across moorlands of picnic check.
Bud catching
every second look,
tree, shrub, perennial, bulb.
Life brings the previously hibernating
out in shivers,
wanders wide lengths,
from roots to tips in natural
energy.
Sheets on a breeze rise
virgin-white
under hazy sky.
#nature
#sensual
44 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
2nd Apr 2020 8:53am
2nd Apr 2020 8:53am
Rockhollow Series: Eight Thirty Eight
2/30
Rockhollow series: Eight Thirty Eight
Mother sent a letter yesterday,
by Mother I mean birth,
by letter I mean card -
content was peculiar,
something you'd send family midweek after seeing them last for Sunday roast - later you'd call, complain about the cabbage, draft from the window by the table.
Last time I saw my Mother she was wired, early '19,
prior to that it was 2006.
Last time I saw my Mother she was laying, sullen, in front a board that read: Vegetarian, no gluten.
Drips and machines sat around her as bouncers. ...
Rockhollow series: Eight Thirty Eight
Mother sent a letter yesterday,
by Mother I mean birth,
by letter I mean card -
content was peculiar,
something you'd send family midweek after seeing them last for Sunday roast - later you'd call, complain about the cabbage, draft from the window by the table.
Last time I saw my Mother she was wired, early '19,
prior to that it was 2006.
Last time I saw my Mother she was laying, sullen, in front a board that read: Vegetarian, no gluten.
Drips and machines sat around her as bouncers. ...
#mother
#nature
#NaPoWriMo2020
33 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
1st Apr 2020 11:45am
1st Apr 2020 11:45am
Rockhollow Series: Lawn
#1 of 30
Rockhollow Series: Lawn
A conversation took place
between cut grass and my toes,
warm spring sky toasted ankles and calves,
bird song swam in pools of North-easterly breeze,
a bee-fly hovered over seas of forget me nots
and I rocked, for'd and back,
to and fro and to again,
on an aging swing
stationed on the huh.
A squirrel dashed across a rail of pine,
a large bumble burrowed confidently beside a trunk of privet,
the Persian snorted,
the toddler squealed on a run from an invisible play...
Rockhollow Series: Lawn
A conversation took place
between cut grass and my toes,
warm spring sky toasted ankles and calves,
bird song swam in pools of North-easterly breeze,
a bee-fly hovered over seas of forget me nots
and I rocked, for'd and back,
to and fro and to again,
on an aging swing
stationed on the huh.
A squirrel dashed across a rail of pine,
a large bumble burrowed confidently beside a trunk of privet,
the Persian snorted,
the toddler squealed on a run from an invisible play...
#nature
#uplifting
#freedom #escape
#freedom #escape
39 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Apr 2020 9:50am
1st Apr 2020 9:50am
WarmUp
I confessed to all my grieving,
ten years I've been trying to cut you down
vines of you keep winding and reeling
up the nostrils,
a suffocating cloud.
I wonder if you know how parasitic
your existence is upon the bones of me,
living in a present tense,
regurgitating us, over and again.
I wonder if you sleep on pillows,
stuffed with thorns of looks I gave and things I said,
I wonder if you chest starts beating when you contemplate my end inside your head.
I wonder if we'll regret those choices, choices made to keep us calm and...
ten years I've been trying to cut you down
vines of you keep winding and reeling
up the nostrils,
a suffocating cloud.
I wonder if you know how parasitic
your existence is upon the bones of me,
living in a present tense,
regurgitating us, over and again.
I wonder if you sleep on pillows,
stuffed with thorns of looks I gave and things I said,
I wonder if you chest starts beating when you contemplate my end inside your head.
I wonder if we'll regret those choices, choices made to keep us calm and...
#love
#aging
27 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Apr 2020 00:08am
1st Apr 2020 00:08am
Weight
I miss you
as if I'm head under tepid bath water
waiting for air.
as if I'm head under tepid bath water
waiting for air.
#identity
#honesty
#humankind
49 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
