Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
💚
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
20th Jan 2024 9:10pm
20th Jan 2024 9:10pm
Plum juice
Plum juice
The wasp hears tribe in her body,
burns like the center of a matriarch's wake,
sings on fantasies of honey,
curls her wings, flits into bitterest night.
I've thought seldom on pity,
where the city holds casks of sweet cider.
She scents for it, and the actualisation
of a pint surpasses the idea.
You take a picture,
yet the picture never lasts in the mind,
she sends a warcry,
one that never reaches your ears.
Her warriors come gathering,
sisters and brothers buzz.
She's trapped...
The wasp hears tribe in her body,
burns like the center of a matriarch's wake,
sings on fantasies of honey,
curls her wings, flits into bitterest night.
I've thought seldom on pity,
where the city holds casks of sweet cider.
She scents for it, and the actualisation
of a pint surpasses the idea.
You take a picture,
yet the picture never lasts in the mind,
she sends a warcry,
one that never reaches your ears.
Her warriors come gathering,
sisters and brothers buzz.
She's trapped...
#hope
#gratitude
#responsibility
106 reads
1 Comment
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
13th Jan 2024 10:32pm
13th Jan 2024 10:32pm
The Elements
Aries was never the Sun,
horns dripping with war,
fear a pelt on their bonestead.
Taurus never more than a purr,
a promise in its infancy,
the allure of rose tinted glass.
Gemini were wild and adventurous things,
wise, scratching, empowered.
Cancer was both compassionate and villainous,
could fill whole reservoirs with their tears.
And Leo hosted warm gatherings,
soul fierce and wide for the pride.
Virgo was a steady, calm alchemy,
the creator, the joyful, passion element.
Libra was...
horns dripping with war,
fear a pelt on their bonestead.
Taurus never more than a purr,
a promise in its infancy,
the allure of rose tinted glass.
Gemini were wild and adventurous things,
wise, scratching, empowered.
Cancer was both compassionate and villainous,
could fill whole reservoirs with their tears.
And Leo hosted warm gatherings,
soul fierce and wide for the pride.
Virgo was a steady, calm alchemy,
the creator, the joyful, passion element.
Libra was...
#universe
#stars
#astrology #fiction
#astrology #fiction
191 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th Dec 2023 00:13am
26th Dec 2023 00:13am
[[sometimes underground walkways, other times private parking lots]]
[sometimes underground walkways, other times private parking lots]]
We curled into each other,
in the parking lot,
hooked, lined and sinkered,
legs and arms and blankets
where electric lights and Mercedes cars
stayed dry from the wet gloom of the city.
He had a bottle of cheap cider,
they had cigarettes, passed them 'round,
called me the 'Angel',
we found this place as it was an alley away
from the youth centre we went as kids
when we had nowhere else to go.
With no one else to listen,
they taught me...
We curled into each other,
in the parking lot,
hooked, lined and sinkered,
legs and arms and blankets
where electric lights and Mercedes cars
stayed dry from the wet gloom of the city.
He had a bottle of cheap cider,
they had cigarettes, passed them 'round,
called me the 'Angel',
we found this place as it was an alley away
from the youth centre we went as kids
when we had nowhere else to go.
With no one else to listen,
they taught me...
#parent
#teens
#home #healing
#home #healing
195 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
20th Dec 2023 00:24am
20th Dec 2023 00:24am
Aftermath
The sky is deliciously clear,
a hundred white irises stare down on this,
this dilapidated Eden, this night
where the owl rings clear and the smoke billows steady
from corners of an upturned, chill coloured mouth
pouring out those cups of tears I've been carrying for my sisters,
I don't let on the barrel is heavy,
I don't let on I have no second vessel,
instead I sit on the porch and sing
quietly to the Moon
imagining I could still talk to you,
recognising there were so many tears when I could've
that even ten sisters couldn't carry...
a hundred white irises stare down on this,
this dilapidated Eden, this night
where the owl rings clear and the smoke billows steady
from corners of an upturned, chill coloured mouth
pouring out those cups of tears I've been carrying for my sisters,
I don't let on the barrel is heavy,
I don't let on I have no second vessel,
instead I sit on the porch and sing
quietly to the Moon
imagining I could still talk to you,
recognising there were so many tears when I could've
that even ten sisters couldn't carry...
#sister
#rebirth
#healing #emotions
#healing #emotions
232 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Dec 2023 8:44pm
16th Dec 2023 8:44pm
Round we'll go again
Round we'll go again
We sing to the stars,
the cirrus clouds that collect over Moon,
rock, there by the fire,
in the looming of light, call
in father Sun, his lift back to hours,
our fingers weaving
warmth that'll curl
into being, seeing
the lessening of night.
We chant incantations into breath,
to stain the dusk as wives,
witches bound to Almanac
we thrum, drum Capricorn highs,
where stones sit, rest,
shape of full De Lune,
shadow daughters
darkening further
to rise upon his dawn.
...
We sing to the stars,
the cirrus clouds that collect over Moon,
rock, there by the fire,
in the looming of light, call
in father Sun, his lift back to hours,
our fingers weaving
warmth that'll curl
into being, seeing
the lessening of night.
We chant incantations into breath,
to stain the dusk as wives,
witches bound to Almanac
we thrum, drum Capricorn highs,
where stones sit, rest,
shape of full De Lune,
shadow daughters
darkening further
to rise upon his dawn.
...
#moon
#winter
#nature
147 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
12th Dec 2023 7:58pm
12th Dec 2023 7:58pm
Journal December
She wants the bite of slick country memories,
to drive over county lines, take that long hike
--
A place that greens far from dark whiskey,
another space foreseen she'd lose sense of time.
It's the hue of wide pine rows, the crag, small leat
that leaks from aloft and bleeds off a hill.
It's the ache after walking,
the weight of her kit,
the scent of still mist
evaporating from land.
It's the quiet, an ice
that kisses each freckle
and reminds still muscles
to be steady but roam.
...
to drive over county lines, take that long hike
--
A place that greens far from dark whiskey,
another space foreseen she'd lose sense of time.
It's the hue of wide pine rows, the crag, small leat
that leaks from aloft and bleeds off a hill.
It's the ache after walking,
the weight of her kit,
the scent of still mist
evaporating from land.
It's the quiet, an ice
that kisses each freckle
and reminds still muscles
to be steady but roam.
...
#home
#water
#nature
100 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
9th Dec 2023 11:29am
9th Dec 2023 11:29am
Go boldly
Go boldly
"You should run,
gun it across Ditsworthy,
barefoot, down-sunken,
peel off your skins,
the scarves, hats and jumpers,
unleash every wilderness
sheathed by your palms -
where silence goes bleating,
above every birdsong,
whistles through ear-beds,
tongues through your hair
and here, where you're lingering
you'll hear the peace in equilibrium."
"You should run, kid," the old ghosts go calling,
hoarse throats that seldom hold salvation or care,
and so I disrobe, ...
"You should run,
gun it across Ditsworthy,
barefoot, down-sunken,
peel off your skins,
the scarves, hats and jumpers,
unleash every wilderness
sheathed by your palms -
where silence goes bleating,
above every birdsong,
whistles through ear-beds,
tongues through your hair
and here, where you're lingering
you'll hear the peace in equilibrium."
"You should run, kid," the old ghosts go calling,
hoarse throats that seldom hold salvation or care,
and so I disrobe, ...
#freedom
#escape
#healing
130 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
7th Dec 2023 6:58pm
7th Dec 2023 6:58pm
Laser focus
Laser focus.
I want to write always
in a bar with a woman who owns beautiful hats
and her husband playing music on a small, stacked piano,
her fingers dusted in paint,
the dogs skipping her feet,
on headlands where the sea cries,
whips up and kisses our skin,
in the reedbeds,
in the darkness
where two white beeches fell,
to hear what's out of bounds
come screaming to life once more,
on the stage, whilst holding gaze,
the audience like a cloud.
I want to write until I'm greying
and tales hold...
I want to write always
in a bar with a woman who owns beautiful hats
and her husband playing music on a small, stacked piano,
her fingers dusted in paint,
the dogs skipping her feet,
on headlands where the sea cries,
whips up and kisses our skin,
in the reedbeds,
in the darkness
where two white beeches fell,
to hear what's out of bounds
come screaming to life once more,
on the stage, whilst holding gaze,
the audience like a cloud.
I want to write until I'm greying
and tales hold...
#happiness
#home
#WritingPoetry
104 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
5th Dec 2023 00:43am
5th Dec 2023 00:43am
Tobacco edit
I wear tobacco on my skin like a bruise,
blood pooling in rivulets just beneath
translucent flesh, it sings,
less painful with time,
within congregations of smoke,
of her a decade ago, him a mere year,
it seals these doorways
with a glaze that forms between the shatterings.
She is
an egg amongst soldiers,
the nucleus pouring down the sides,
she is the waste,
the best bit.
I wear nicotine as a cloud,
holding in then belatedly exhaling rain.
or perhaps a scarf,
one to hide the truth
barely hidden behind the...
blood pooling in rivulets just beneath
translucent flesh, it sings,
less painful with time,
within congregations of smoke,
of her a decade ago, him a mere year,
it seals these doorways
with a glaze that forms between the shatterings.
She is
an egg amongst soldiers,
the nucleus pouring down the sides,
she is the waste,
the best bit.
I wear nicotine as a cloud,
holding in then belatedly exhaling rain.
or perhaps a scarf,
one to hide the truth
barely hidden behind the...
#home
#tobacco
169 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
4th Dec 2023 7:47pm
4th Dec 2023 7:47pm
Winter: Settling in
Tonight I call upon last Friday,
the taste of numb,
buried in the underground,
call forth the gloriousness of relinquishing -
here, in the season of our Nyx,
here, in the depths of year's day-fall,
the longest night goes groaning,
faces lit up,
blazed by electric or firelight.
I call the satisfaction of remembering,
of unfurling, unpicking
all those reasons to hide,
checking how cold the night -
Herringbone scarves
and Grandmother's coat,
cigarellos, your fingers
wrapped around a handle, ...
the taste of numb,
buried in the underground,
call forth the gloriousness of relinquishing -
here, in the season of our Nyx,
here, in the depths of year's day-fall,
the longest night goes groaning,
faces lit up,
blazed by electric or firelight.
I call the satisfaction of remembering,
of unfurling, unpicking
all those reasons to hide,
checking how cold the night -
Herringbone scarves
and Grandmother's coat,
cigarellos, your fingers
wrapped around a handle, ...
#happiness
#winter
#nature
119 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
24th Nov 2023 9:23pm
24th Nov 2023 9:23pm
They call it harm.
#anger
#women
#home
121 reads
0 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2023 11:45pm
23rd Nov 2023 11:45pm
They call it grooming
#childhood
#abuse
#manipulation
154 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
