FozzieFunk
10-02-2011, 01:21 AM
This is poetry constructed in bouts of fervent emotion and inspiration. Experience is a cognitive dream that pushes my fingers towards expression. The result follows closely.
Autumn's Breath
Autumn shouts atop hickory branches
as the wind gently whispers a fragrant sonnet
an arrow drawn resonates a great tradition
while feeble feet tread the fragile ground
a moments gaze courts courage
as the young Cherokee's hand unhinges
blessing the hungry,
the arrow speaks in colors.
A flower in the wild
I’m a weed, but I’m a wildflower.
I’m an infestation, but I’m a blessing.
I’m stupid, but Im educated.
I’m repulsive, but Im beautiful.
Im pitiful, but I’m happy.
I’m a weed, but what is a weed exactly?
If you pushed through the screen door and greeted the lustful summernights air.
If you gazed out onto the fresh cut lawn, would you spot me grimacing back at you? Strategically placed between the blades of grass,
shimmering underneath the solid moonlight.
situated amongst the breaths of lone fireflies
a fine mist of dew dripping off my petals
My roots desperately clinging to the moist dirt, extending in all directions,
“leeching” the life directly from the lonely lawn.
I’m a weed therefore i am judged by the shallowest of standards
and when I whither away and die
the world I was a part of, will accept me as her child
tenderly extending her roots into my heart
as only a mother can do
I don’t have the same goals as the other plants.
I branched out, explored new territory,
I wasn’t satisfied with a home in a flower bed amongst the rest of the lifeless flowers.
I wanted a different life inside a different garden.
My roots couldn’t tie me down, I left the rest behind.
My pollen shares the same air,
my roots share the same dirt,
my leaves shade the same earth;
but my society shares a different opinion of me.
I say
**** society and it’s stupid standards.
Will continue as I gather more poems. I would appreciate constructive criticism. (be nice[ish])
Autumn's Breath
Autumn shouts atop hickory branches
as the wind gently whispers a fragrant sonnet
an arrow drawn resonates a great tradition
while feeble feet tread the fragile ground
a moments gaze courts courage
as the young Cherokee's hand unhinges
blessing the hungry,
the arrow speaks in colors.
A flower in the wild
I’m a weed, but I’m a wildflower.
I’m an infestation, but I’m a blessing.
I’m stupid, but Im educated.
I’m repulsive, but Im beautiful.
Im pitiful, but I’m happy.
I’m a weed, but what is a weed exactly?
If you pushed through the screen door and greeted the lustful summernights air.
If you gazed out onto the fresh cut lawn, would you spot me grimacing back at you? Strategically placed between the blades of grass,
shimmering underneath the solid moonlight.
situated amongst the breaths of lone fireflies
a fine mist of dew dripping off my petals
My roots desperately clinging to the moist dirt, extending in all directions,
“leeching” the life directly from the lonely lawn.
I’m a weed therefore i am judged by the shallowest of standards
and when I whither away and die
the world I was a part of, will accept me as her child
tenderly extending her roots into my heart
as only a mother can do
I don’t have the same goals as the other plants.
I branched out, explored new territory,
I wasn’t satisfied with a home in a flower bed amongst the rest of the lifeless flowers.
I wanted a different life inside a different garden.
My roots couldn’t tie me down, I left the rest behind.
My pollen shares the same air,
my roots share the same dirt,
my leaves shade the same earth;
but my society shares a different opinion of me.
I say
**** society and it’s stupid standards.
Will continue as I gather more poems. I would appreciate constructive criticism. (be nice[ish])