yelluw_always
Poem Published
5th Apr 2019 6:23am
5th Apr 2019 6:23am
Lakeside 4/30
The tips emerge as a fire bush
of winter with its index
of buds, I make a list
of its sounds of growth.
Creep, feast,
stacked plat
es of blue m
oon, silverwa
re of tiny fists
opening and
squeezing thr
ough the guts,
platforms for
spittle beetles
and their unre
pentant corpu
scular beads-
fight or flight;
they chose fan
cy- camouflag
e is for the lou
dest of us, shy-
sters…. ...
of winter with its index
of buds, I make a list
of its sounds of growth.
Creep, feast,
stacked plat
es of blue m
oon, silverwa
re of tiny fists
opening and
squeezing thr
ough the guts,
platforms for
spittle beetles
and their unre
pentant corpu
scular beads-
fight or flight;
they chose fan
cy- camouflag
e is for the lou
dest of us, shy-
sters…. ...
#nature
#surreal
#NaPoWriMo2019 #identity
#NaPoWriMo2019 #identity
18 reads
4 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
16th Apr 2019 7:39am
16th Apr 2019 7:39am
Lakeside 15/30
I have taken nails out of wood
frames and taken the pin out of leitmotif
his eyes sirened like pulsar stars all over
his black surface, shriller than and- then
he is a wheel
emotive in pieces upon which I
paint faces on heads, flat-
-tened them buttercup dumb, everywhere
is spread out of hand, but these
stumps mine moving all the same
here is my touchstone
in the sawdust arboreal of the subject ...
frames and taken the pin out of leitmotif
his eyes sirened like pulsar stars all over
his black surface, shriller than and- then
he is a wheel
emotive in pieces upon which I
paint faces on heads, flat-
-tened them buttercup dumb, everywhere
is spread out of hand, but these
stumps mine moving all the same
here is my touchstone
in the sawdust arboreal of the subject ...
#identity
#nature
#surreal #NaPoWriMo2019
#surreal #NaPoWriMo2019
19 reads
9 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
21st Apr 2019 7:15am
21st Apr 2019 7:15am
Lakeside 19/30
Recreate the geography
of language by coloring
in the phonemes as body
shaped, as where.
Sign language is every
kind of onomatopoeia,
the hands making all kinds
of sounds against our bodies,
through the air, sculpture,
painting, pottery, temporal
and grounding but the after-
effects stay in your throat.
The words are indulged
by your eyes as they close
and you can taste
proprioception.
Space is replicated
into a stack of paper.
Squeeze as if you are seeking
a bed...
of language by coloring
in the phonemes as body
shaped, as where.
Sign language is every
kind of onomatopoeia,
the hands making all kinds
of sounds against our bodies,
through the air, sculpture,
painting, pottery, temporal
and grounding but the after-
effects stay in your throat.
The words are indulged
by your eyes as they close
and you can taste
proprioception.
Space is replicated
into a stack of paper.
Squeeze as if you are seeking
a bed...
#identity
#nature
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
19 reads
4 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
13th Jan 2019 3:45am
13th Jan 2019 3:45am
The Rill
Something perfect grappling
branches as lichens
work darkness, around a dozen fell
on better earth with me.
Do nothing, but at least light
kingdoms, so stars,
if in arranging my luminous
thoughts, the seeds heard.
They remembered
doom and, I,
white water breathing
dark fire among stone.
Never had birds
tenderly thought
insects into pockets,
their small night river of moths.
Times rose, morning vanished-
took by...
branches as lichens
work darkness, around a dozen fell
on better earth with me.
Do nothing, but at least light
kingdoms, so stars,
if in arranging my luminous
thoughts, the seeds heard.
They remembered
doom and, I,
white water breathing
dark fire among stone.
Never had birds
tenderly thought
insects into pockets,
their small night river of moths.
Times rose, morning vanished-
took by...
#nature
#rebirth
20 reads
10 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
27th Dec 2018 8:34pm
27th Dec 2018 8:34pm
appleseed: an american king
do i make sense in this aqua world
so hard to type without any control
slowly being peppered over shots of waves
keys waver merry to wave hail a banding
of blood-sworn from king to inappropriate
sheers glistened from the traverses
of hooking lips or that of claws rasped
do you sense land bobbing beyond promises
looking for the vulpine connects to space
looking along the telescope for a rainbow road
are you the princess once the void bends
forward coring the apple tree
are we late pink are we...
so hard to type without any control
slowly being peppered over shots of waves
keys waver merry to wave hail a banding
of blood-sworn from king to inappropriate
sheers glistened from the traverses
of hooking lips or that of claws rasped
do you sense land bobbing beyond promises
looking for the vulpine connects to space
looking along the telescope for a rainbow road
are you the princess once the void bends
forward coring the apple tree
are we late pink are we...
#family
#America
#nature
#rebirth
#mythology
20 reads
2 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
2nd Feb 2019 3:15am
2nd Feb 2019 3:15am
Bog
The dragonfly hovers near me,
I list to its gravity, its wing edges drawn.
It will dilate myself open not from unused throat
up the chin cliff but on the low-low,
where love is cleft patient unto the shedding
from no man’s land- here she sinks.
It pools warm and not something
he is accustomed to.
The tang so unlike the common drip of waking up;
perfect for mating,
perfect for the passing over by diaphanous
veins and a methodical uterus.
The droll eye of the camera comes about
meaning to...
I list to its gravity, its wing edges drawn.
It will dilate myself open not from unused throat
up the chin cliff but on the low-low,
where love is cleft patient unto the shedding
from no man’s land- here she sinks.
It pools warm and not something
he is accustomed to.
The tang so unlike the common drip of waking up;
perfect for mating,
perfect for the passing over by diaphanous
veins and a methodical uterus.
The droll eye of the camera comes about
meaning to...
#women
#sex
#nature
#magic
#admiration
20 reads
11 Comments
Poetic_Strength
Poem Published
25th Jan 2021 00:23am
25th Jan 2021 00:23am
Conditioned
To be inclined,
To incite,
to enact the act to reflect,
Ambitious world tight to the neck,
It is a quest,
to react..
How far can we get?
Climb a tree instead of
Sitting under mumbling….
How bad is the sound of thunders?
Tipped of wonders and colors,
Distinct fully and awesomely……. random.
Shades dropped rubbles
beyond timelines living under ….the effect,
an excuse that matters.
The wrong - the right,
As right is the wrong,
the shape of
a mask
To incite,
to enact the act to reflect,
Ambitious world tight to the neck,
It is a quest,
to react..
How far can we get?
Climb a tree instead of
Sitting under mumbling….
How bad is the sound of thunders?
Tipped of wonders and colors,
Distinct fully and awesomely……. random.
Shades dropped rubbles
beyond timelines living under ….the effect,
an excuse that matters.
The wrong - the right,
As right is the wrong,
the shape of
a mask
#nature
#MentalHealth
#humankind
#SelfWorth
#manipulation
20 reads
6 Comments
Thor_Azine
Poem Published
1st Jul 2024 11:50am
1st Jul 2024 11:50am
Rhythm of the Earth
I am the gentle breath
moving leaves to speak
as you walk through the
forest
A touch so tender
my hands massage
your shoulders, cascading
down your back, soft
willow branches
Taking your hand to dance
as the trees sway, showering
us in leaves of lust
intertwined in the passion
of the wilderness
I take you there
on the forest floor
undressing as the wind
sings to our flesh
We enjoy the time
each breathing in the other,
hands, fingers, mouths at play
making love to...
moving leaves to speak
as you walk through the
forest
A touch so tender
my hands massage
your shoulders, cascading
down your back, soft
willow branches
Taking your hand to dance
as the trees sway, showering
us in leaves of lust
intertwined in the passion
of the wilderness
I take you there
on the forest floor
undressing as the wind
sings to our flesh
We enjoy the time
each breathing in the other,
hands, fingers, mouths at play
making love to...
#forest
#love
#nature #relationships
#nature #relationships
20 reads
6 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:16am
Yesterday 1:16am
Spring Has Sprung
Spring Has Sprung
Jane and I lay on the yellow sandy creek beach looking at the pink glow of sunrise in the eastern sky. She reclines on her side facing me. I am supine in the sublimity of spring. We are both twenty and too old for wading in the creek. But spring has sprung and the desire to get more than our feet wet is strong. Jane’s irises are azure as glacial ice. Her complexion is that of French vanilla. Her hair is like fine corn silk which lusters in the summer sun. Her hair giggles when she walks.
At St. Catherine Creek the water appears on fire and sparkles...
Jane and I lay on the yellow sandy creek beach looking at the pink glow of sunrise in the eastern sky. She reclines on her side facing me. I am supine in the sublimity of spring. We are both twenty and too old for wading in the creek. But spring has sprung and the desire to get more than our feet wet is strong. Jane’s irises are azure as glacial ice. Her complexion is that of French vanilla. Her hair is like fine corn silk which lusters in the summer sun. Her hair giggles when she walks.
At St. Catherine Creek the water appears on fire and sparkles...
#erotic
#nature
#sensual
#spiritual
#water
20 reads
0 Comments
MalcolmG
Poem Published
21st Dec 2024 1:12pm
21st Dec 2024 1:12pm
The Honeyed Quest in haiku
Whispers on the breeze
a meadow’s heart starts fading,
nectar crown grows dim.
Golden fields tremble,
petals bow to coming drought,
bees hum tales of fear.
Small Melis takes flight,
a spark against looming dusk,
her heart pure as light.
Through the grand forest’s shade,
ants hoard crystals sharp as glass
she gifts royal gold.
Sap glows soft and sweet,
they share a feast, unity
woven in their dance.
The lilies’ mirror,
rippling fears in darkened waves
“Small, yet I am strong.” ...
a meadow’s heart starts fading,
nectar crown grows dim.
Golden fields tremble,
petals bow to coming drought,
bees hum tales of fear.
Small Melis takes flight,
a spark against looming dusk,
her heart pure as light.
Through the grand forest’s shade,
ants hoard crystals sharp as glass
she gifts royal gold.
Sap glows soft and sweet,
they share a feast, unity
woven in their dance.
The lilies’ mirror,
rippling fears in darkened waves
“Small, yet I am strong.” ...
#happiness
#LifeStruggles
#nature
20 reads
0 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
30th Dec 2018 9:01pm
30th Dec 2018 9:01pm
photosynthesis: converting light to be later released
It is crystal, stems
do break up. They do to diverge in what
paths light sustenance either solar or lunar.
It would do to say in ritual eros
every lover follows some noble arc; or
i suggest that you exalt it.
Two heads are being born and share napes,
proprioception or best way of seeing,
is feeling around in the bud
pre-emergence.
But later the restless hands,
after applause after hunger,
longing to move, they rub
together the present
at the very infinite crack of parting.
...
do break up. They do to diverge in what
paths light sustenance either solar or lunar.
It would do to say in ritual eros
every lover follows some noble arc; or
i suggest that you exalt it.
Two heads are being born and share napes,
proprioception or best way of seeing,
is feeling around in the bud
pre-emergence.
But later the restless hands,
after applause after hunger,
longing to move, they rub
together the present
at the very infinite crack of parting.
...
#conflict
#flowers
#nature #confessional
#nature #confessional
21 reads
0 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
3rd Jan 2019 1:52am
3rd Jan 2019 1:52am
Owl Series: II
I. Predator
Does she stain
the thinly-knitted mulch
in marks of prayer;
a hunter notching
a blackened tip before the brook,
a pause before the mercy?
Her flex exposed,
silks a stone into dialects
of existence.
There, skimming the hills,
tracing their peaceful line
in bells and falls,
she responds-
to a boast of the softness
of a wind's palate
which busies all that reaches
below her view's dangle.
Those who are enticed,
question...
Does she stain
the thinly-knitted mulch
in marks of prayer;
a hunter notching
a blackened tip before the brook,
a pause before the mercy?
Her flex exposed,
silks a stone into dialects
of existence.
There, skimming the hills,
tracing their peaceful line
in bells and falls,
she responds-
to a boast of the softness
of a wind's palate
which busies all that reaches
below her view's dangle.
Those who are enticed,
question...
#animals
#nature
#LifeAsAWriter
21 reads
11 Comments
DU Poetry : Least Read Poems About Nature
