nature poems

Lament | Jenny Middleton - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Lament | Jenny Middleton

Paved, tarred streets smother us
Dreaming.. stilled.
Beneath, if you listen,
Grass echoes its longing
and ancient verges, glades
and meadows sweet ache
In our fox soul of red souls
As we tread wearily,
Ceaselessly towards a confinement
of city.

an astronaut I heard
lamenting from the station
cries knowing amid our gains
loss lays heavy lidded
bleeding breaths mon-oxide doused
to a paling sky.

Shoving up between each step
Weeds protest their places
Abandoning all
pretence we scatter home
to find waiting lonely
and wilting, shedding leaves
our own journey in green tears.

In the Seam | Grant Tarbard - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

In the Seam | Grant Tarbard

1.
age tells on heroes
their noir iconic
mortality asks
questions, their wounded
fleshy rags trembling
with a honeyed veil
bound in rumours of
the bitter divine.
They immigrate to
that inky sentence,
lover-men to the
silent lonesome bride
shuffle behind the
clouds with leaves weeping
at the constant stars
2.
no visible scars
oak trees surrendering to
voluptuousness
the hero with a
broken mask shifts between a
twelve fingered guru
who’s merciful, a
drunken reprobate and a
omega inscribed
girl who clenches when
she drains fine wines, dilettante
tongues and bloody tears

Tale Told by Rain Drop | Sadia Mehmood Qurashi - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Tale Told by Rain Drop | Sadia Mehmood Qurashi

“I was about to fall,
Going to lose my identity,
By blending myself,
With rain water,
Cuz I was,
Born to blend!
Meanwhile,
The kindest plant,
Extended its hand,
And caught me,
Now,
I, delicate ball,
Resting,
In the green bed,
And singing
kindness costs nothing”

I Will Be Back after the War | Ogunsanya Enitan Olalekan - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

I Will Be Back after the War | Ogunsanya Enitan Olalekan

I.
When the shouts of escape
the ranting of the long mouth
must have deafened the ear
of the opened space.
Filled it with sorrowful sounds
to pull blood out of it.
II.
Running up and down
trees parting ways
feet peeling off its shell
nails chewing the dust.
Fouls fooling the folly foes fanning the fame of fury.
III.
Let them wander on this wonderful land
filled with sleeping skulls
playing round the filed
seeking peaceful journey to the sea
to be seen no more.
Let the water write down
of their effects in the legendary note.
IV.
Stained with the color of the future
the moon runs to the cave to seek peace
sun flee backward searching for lost souls.
Mingling in the drops of bullets
basking under the skin of the grass.
V.
When the field must have been dry
rusty skinny guns lost
bloods drunk to stupor by soil
then wait a little while
for I will be back someday
when I cease to be called war.

More at http://www.enistik.wordpress.com.

Post-Rotary Lullaby | Steven Fortune - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Post-Rotary Lullaby | Steven Fortune

Silly but innocuous
maybe even obvious of me
to tell her blue
was my choice
colour of cat
(Those overcast days
of moist sidewalks
and teal sky saliva
vivify the whimsy in me)
It made her laugh
and I was happy to be known
then vindicated
when a ray of margarine yellow
on apparent cue
punctured the meringue above
cupped an eyeball of mine
like a fish hook
and prodded my entire head
to register a house
sporting navy-royal rooftop
shingles on a road
we often travelled
in conclusion to
the Rotary traverse
It had to be a fresh roof
or at least
freshly relevant
to the compendium
of our eclectic verbal scores
played out on this route
Whatever the criteria
it nursed to health
my hitherto-comedic melancholy
over non-existent naturally
blue cats
Only a triumphant solidity
of blue above could pad
this slice of juvenilia
with further yeast
but I end it as I ended
the walk
happy that I made her laugh
and whole in the encompassing
of teal and yellow
in the elemental suburbs
of my grounding hub

More at https://facebook.com/stevenfortunepoet.

Secrets of the Tree | Colleen Riehl - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Secrets of the Tree | Colleen Riehl

Wizened hardened
resilient
cracks upon my core
bark stripped off
left seeping.
Branches haphazardly
severed
new twigs peeping

Laden boughs drooping
eerily snooping
to hear more

First lingering kiss
under the camoflauge
of my canopy
subsequently…
with more intensity.

Gouged out in places
knotted knobs of keloid
where lovers names
within my cambium
engraved.
Immortalized!

Uninvited guests
my proximity invaded.
Subjected to
inebriated
foul
yellow tinged urine,
my dignity
compromised

Objection
not an option
I’m rooted to the ground.
I’ve heard and seen it all
Firmly yet I stand

You need not worry
upon my lofty bosom
your secrets I behold

I promise..
never..
to be told

After All | Debra Sasak Ross - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

After All | Debra Sasak Ross

The sun within the clouds are calming,
Unlike lightning in the sky which can be alarming.
The waves in the ocean are consuming,
While the stars in the sky remind me.
I’m only human.
After all.

Nature’s Music | Mary Bone - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Nature’s Music | Mary Bone

The north winds blow so strong,
an eerie sound, making its own song.
Birds sing in nearby trees,
there’s a hint of spring and the
buzzing of bees.
The month of March brings nature’s bloom.
During the summer the beauty will parch,
But for now, the flowers smile,
With no hint of impending doom.

Journey | Diganta Rag - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Journey | Diganta Rag

We are two dots of the Nature’s straight line
In the theory of Evolution,
There is exhibition of green existence of life.

Whether you are male or female
Whether you are female or male

You are the river bank of Kapili
That flows in lonely place silently.

Oh! Love!
That is hanging as intoxicated melody
After bathing in the Moonlight.

This is love,
Returns every night
As if, it is a warm stream of blood
Flowing through the arms.

A fragrance of golden Sunshine
In the field of crops.

(Original Assamese poem Translated by Pabitra Das)

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