#poems about nature

[trickstersaint]

flush // april 13 2023

[theanarchictastes]

To be like a catfish

Burrowed beneath the surface

In a slimy coat of skin

Swim in mucky waters of earth

Unobstructed

The currents thrush beneath my fins

So immaterial

Dirty but ethereal

I’m the bottom feeding fish god

Stick your fingers out

You might just get a surprise

Or you’ll be swimming with the cod

[honeyednotes]

Untitled

there is no one I would rather lay with

on lake-lapped lumber, gazing into infinity as stars fall from the sky

than you

liquor-loosened lips lamenting our littleness, as hunks of space rock hurtling millions of miles per moment cleave through our atmosphere

left to land in our alien world, as we watch the streak it leaves etched into the sky in wonder

the warmth of your proximity balances the chill from night-drenched waters below, and your voice grounds me in the midst of limitlessness itself

here, I feel small, yes: but never helpless, never hopeless

I truly believe, there is nothing we cannot accomplish together

by Brie Thomson

[ourburningbridges]

Life’s Beauty Marks

learning to love and embrace your ACNE beauty marks. nature is gorgeous.

i love my blemishes,

a new scar everyday.

my flesh is alive

and that’s okay.

they’re only beauty marks,

graced on the space

on my back, up my shoulders

and on my face.

i love to be alive,

with skin that breathes.

the strength in my guts

puts me at ease.

they’re only natural,

you’re human just like me.

don’t let the vigor on my vessel

be all you see.

-I.F.L 🫁

[psyche-tips-the-candle]

When you left, my world split in two. Your footsteps are dogged by this awful chasm, chasing you, and here I stand, one foot on either side. I'm longing to call after you, my love, longing for you to turn around - but every sound I make just dwindles into nothingness, swallowed down into that black pit of emptiness. I wonder when the distance will grow too far for me to bridge. I wonder when I will follow.

[sandywayne07]

[ohwaitwhatdamn]

Dreams of making buckwheat pancakes and having a silly dance party in the kitchen using homemade lavender flavored simple syrup. 

Framing the drawings the children drew on the wall, "It's pretty, but is it Art?" Yes, of course, indeed. 

We all drew on the wall and placed frames around our creations, "It's clever, but is it Art?" Yes, of course, indeed. 

Later, we will collect leaves and mushrooms and count the rings on tree stumps while our boots crunch over twigs and get caked with mud. 

Our bootprints stamped evidence of our adventures in our entryway as the children pulled treasures from their tiny pockets and displayed them proudly wherever their hearts desired.

Tenderly laid among pinecones, pieces of wood, and dried flowers that tell tales of other adventures in collecting sumac and yarrow. 

[intuitiveastrology]

I wrote a poetry book!!

all of you, my followers, are probably familiar with my writing about astrology and all that and I'm grateful for all of you and all the new people coming every day! it makes me so happy to see people liking my posts and finding them insightful 🥺

I got into creative writing a few years back and I needed a safe space to share my thoughts, some of you might know that I used to also post poetry/notes on here alongside astrology stuff, which is why I'm here writing this right now; I have published a poetry book and I want to share it with all of you! I've been working on this project for 2 slow years now and I'm very happy with how everything turned out; it consists of 134 pages worth of 224 "notes" (aka poems) and some random extras including "suggestions" (suggestive poems) and short stories. the style of writing I would say is avant-garde with a lot of say on identity, expansion, space, nature, and metaphysics, so it's not for everyone, but I have put all of my heart into every piece and I hope anyone who finds this checks it out and supports me and other small authors :)))

book title: "The earth, the stars, and me in between. by Nujm"

ISBN for hardcover: 9781738848003

ISBN for Ebook: 9781738848010

link for amazon

[waxfullwan]

dandelion girl

did they rip you all apart,

to pour poison on your heart,

when your soul was so pure

right from the very start?

did they break into your house,

to go burn the whole thing down,

just to leave you in the smoke

as they build a plastic town?

but as their town rots apart,

you’ll be mending your own heart,

as there are remedies in your veins

they disregarded from the start.

when all the smoke settles down,

the dead make not a sound,

as they didn’t realize they needed

dandelion girl to heal the town.

a.b.

[delightfullyimpossibleenemy]

[trickstersaint]

sunsets // april 2 2023

[beemintty]

daisies along the road;

a dull drive,

dull grass,

a dull sky,

looks bright regardless.

[theanarchictastes]

Nothing is original

Uniqueness gone

No oil on the canvas

No swans to have a song

[honeyednotes]

Waiting

the clicking trill of a bush cricket sounds against the night like a car alarm, loud and insistent, waiting for someone to notice and turn him off

but his calls go straight to voicemail everytime, no matter how much he rings

so he hangs up and tries again, permitting a few moments of silence while he redials the only number he knows

the shrill dial tone picks up where it left off, deafening in it's proximity as he calls out again into the night

waiting

by Brie Thomson

[wolf-grimoire]

"WHEN WE DIE OUR NEW SACRED BODIES DISSOLVE FIND BALANCE AND ARE REBORN WAY BELOW YOU ALL"

WAY BELOW YOU ALL

in the genetic miasma. the smorgasbord.

they swarm in tenuous chords coiling toward

engineer proper: converter of any available entropy

not even invisible, lower than peasantry--engineering riches capital refuses to see

profits on the refuse

and in the end, devours the island empires, having learned to

harvest the ligaments of time itself.

way below you all, they harvest the refuse

reengineer the meanings of things like death. decay. decadence. dimension. delay.

chlorophyll, the market of sugars and starches, thieves and the brightly faced parasitic

wars fall men in droves, women and children become something else in missile attacks--

become more like the wreckage of the architecture they inhabit

become closer in some tragic way to the earth--

but way below you, they are all still alive.

way below you, they have found the new Eden of dissolution and reentry

the new secret life of change into change, where Life and Death

are sacred, and seated in their ancient thrones

and where they will find the respect and beauty in burial they deserved in that old life

and the forest itself which is the world which is within us inevitably will weep for the senselessness

taste the blood it did not will but will give new life all the same

a beautiful life. pregnant in death and strange to human eye and hypnotic off the tongue--

way down below us all

[psyche-tips-the-candle]

Like so many times before

That same old rot creeps up

Blackens my door

And caves it in

Confident you shan't be chased away

Not now your spores have sunk in

With wide open smile, sweet as decay

My home becomes your refuge

There is something sick in you

A hungry sort of darkness

Desperate to eat right through

And swallow my heart