nature, life, and the past

121 posts1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ... 9
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poem #24: a short, 6-7-5 haiku like poem

squirrel, master of tree
jumps, one branch to another
grabs a nut- jumps back
Last edited by junipers on Wed Apr 07, 2021 2:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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poem #25: prineville thrift store

it sat in the other end of the store
sitting patiently on the rack

no doubt otherwise it would have been quickly forgotten
but then I found it

i put it on
it was perfect

i never took it off
except to sleep

it was a camoflauged, pink napa hat
that thing has seen the dust

it is old and worn and dirty
but i wear it everyday

it keeps alive the memory
of that great, great day

you probably think i am crazy
talking about the hat like it is alive

but that thing means as much to me as my own dog
little things make a big difference

and it might seem strange
but when i put on that hat

memories flow to me like a tidal wave
of running

of stars
and smokey campfires

cold nights
and family

of juniper and sagebrush
and orange sunsets and mountains

of true, true happiness
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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poem #26: rain

flooding the garden raisedbeds
overflowing the streets

we run in the puddles
not caring about our soaked clothes

it starts hailing and we continue running
we are free

thunder booms and
lightning flashes

we are c o m p l e t e l y wet
but we carry on, drifting in puddles on our bikes and yelling over the din

we are free
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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poem #27: the moon (one of my shorter ones)

peeking down from behind gray clouds
yellow, surrounded by dark blue

stars try to best the glow
but failing

the moon is shy
hidden

but the significance of it is the same

it moves behind trees, casting a magnificent glow in patches between the thin boughs
but still clear as day in the night
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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#28: planting a tree

the mother and daughter walk down the path
and kneel near the water

the daughter tightly clenching the spade in her hand
still suffering


i know you miss your daddy, girl but we gotta stay strong

the woman says

tears in her voice

the girl furiously digs
forgetting all things

the mother puts a hand on her shoulder
and the girl stops

the hole is deep enough now
and she puts the tree in it

fills it with dirt
and bursts into tears

why did he have to go, mama? why?

every end is a new beginning, girl. like this tree

but why does there have to be an end?

so that there will be beginnings

5 years later:

she walked down the trail that she had years before
went to the place where she had planted it with her mother

it was old and shriveled

but one green bud showed
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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poem #29: one more step

even when everything is gone?

one more step

but what if no one is there to help you?

one more step

keep going no matter how hard it is
it will be worth it

just one more

one more
keep going

have faith that everything will be alright

one more step
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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poem #30: peace (inspired by @Carina's poetry thread)

even in the hard times there is peace
somewhere in the anger
through tears
and sweat

blood
and dirt
is is
always there

it can be not feeling anything

or not being hyper

or it can be a real peace
a forever one
just over the clouds
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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poem #31: truth

it is embarrassing to tell the truth
and hard and scary

worth it?
i don't know

i haven't done it yet
even though I should

i need too
i want too

be set free
but telling the truth is hard

for someone like me
my life is full of untruths

i am not the liar
i don't lie

i just have secrets
that i don't want to share

life is empty now
and that is why I have them

stop being a lie, life

they said everything would be alright
that wish, that hope that i had

is a lost piece of paper on the wind
or in the ocean

somewhere in the ground
for they are gone now

i understand
i get it


no you don't
you haven't been hurt the way i have

i would if i could
but i don't have anyone anymore

no one to talk too

not a single shoulder to cry on

life is h a r d
and s c a r y


but at least now I have someone

i told you my whole story
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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poem #32: the wind and the leaf

i cry out to my branch
as the wind sweeps me away

but it is too late
i am flying, hurtling through the air

and slam face first into a new tree
i am stuck to the sap and can't get away

the wind wriggles me, like it wants me to journey with it
and I am back on the path

for a while it rests on a tree branch
but where did it start?

i know where the wind goes
but not where it comes from

perhaps that is why i am with it

to answer that question
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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poem #33: badminton

we arrive at grandmas house
and go to the backyard

we each grab a racket
and start

at first, we can barely serve
let alone hitting it back

three go back inside and me and Sidney play grandpa
we have a lot of laughs

dump waterbottles on our heads
and tie our shirts off to the sides

soon, our record is 7 hits back and forth
wow, we have come a long way
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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poem #35: stars (dedicated to @starlitmind)
stars, twinkling in the sky
light surrounded by the dark blanket otherwise known as night
gathering together
besting the glow of the moon

who is hidden behind the gray clouds
letting them have their fun
silently chuckling to himself
as the star children play

the bigger ones exchanging thankful glances with the moon
and a sigh of exasperation
the stars are silly
but they lighten the mind.

similar to
@starlitmind
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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Gender Female
Points 2569
Reviews 95
Runaway part 1

I pack my bag
And head out the door
After years of patience and planning
I am finally done.

With arguing brothers
and being the last in line
I got so tired
So I made a decision

A promise to myself
That one day I would leave.
Finally, that day has come
It took a lot of guts

And hard goodbyes
but that is pushed to the back of my conscience.
I am free!
Even in the back seat of the cramped, warm bus

I am free.
Done.
I plan to return
So don't worry yourself

I need to change
I need to come back different
Cause that is the point of this.
But I don't need to worry about that.

I'm free!
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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Runaway: part 2

Finally I'm here.
The place where I belong.
I put my NAPA hat on my head
and walk towards the cabin.

I enter the code
and walk inside.
It smells the same- of dirt and the indescribable smell
Nothing has changed.

It is only 3. I start a fire and unload my food.
I only have a week here
The smell of burning tinder
fills the small room.

I go outside and survey the all-too familiar scene
of dry grass and lava rock.
Rough neon green moss
Hangs off of trees.

I breath the smell into my lungs
this is a moment I will never, ever forget.
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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Runaway part 3

I look up at the bright stars
and the Milky Way galaxy.
The air is chill
and the sun is setting,

orange behind white, faraway mountains.
it finally sets and I go to sleep.

waking up the next morning,
i remember where i am
get out of bed and like always bang my head on the bottom of the top bunk.
i chuckle to myself

and start the day.
i go and catch a little lizard
and he squirms
and I let him go

he reminds me of myself
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya




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Gender Female
Points 2569
Reviews 95
Runaway part 4:

after much adventure,
learning,
acquiring guts
and changing

on day 5 I decide I have learned enough
and walk to town
and get a bus home

I arrive a day later
and am greeted with a lot of yelling, hugging and noise and concern.

"sorry mom." i say.
psalm 147:3- he heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

love ya



Work expands to fill the time available for its completion.
— C. Northcote Parkinson