A meagre forest folio
A meagre forest folio
original poetry & images
The forest reaches down
With its gnarled fingers
And opens up my chest
To leaf through
My book of blood.
An antique album
Of mind albumen
Holding photographs
Of figures ghastly,
The receptacle of
The sadness of time
And its transmutation.
I shone myself
Onto the branches above
And they drank my cold fire.
Stone, this pale body,
An alien gift for the journey
I poured my spirit balm into.
The still air a mycelial web,
My ideas ætherial acorns
Inside a cloudy bosom
Yet sinking all the same
Into the friction of decay
& the strange incertitude
Of the earth's free will
Whose jaws harvest my grain.
The filament of a grimy bulb
Or enduring ivory—
I do not even exist except
For in these paltry words.
Writing & images
By @d-pend
2/27/18
Words are true source of expressing your feelings. Poetry comes from inside and a true poet can convey their message with the right selection of words.
what a heart touching poetry @d-pend. I appreciate your dedication to create original content.
Awesome poem
Beautiful wording dear friend
Striking poem @d-pend. I cannot begin to tell you what a breath of fresh air your poems are to me. Somehow I was misdirected to a post that dissed poets, artists and writers on Steemit. He actually dissed the whole blockchain then upvoted his post to 200 dollars and said he is doing this to be famous.
I need one of your meditations just to get all the pollution of the world out.
The trees have been here a lot longer than us and if they could speak oh what stories they would tell. Part of the story is told today from the fingers of the forest to your heart to the words I am reading and digestion. Thank you once again for awakening the forest that awakens my heart on this gloomy day. Can you see a ray of hope in the last words of the poem or is this just resignation to the art of the poet?
Good morning friend. This part is an edit. I want to let you know I am much better now. The healing started with reading the intimate poem of the heart and the tree.
@d-pend I hope these verses will inspire you
The heart repeats what I have seen with the senses all engallados; the finding is close to the sides of something strange, numerical, unforeseen.
Something of jungle that obeys a different, perverse christ, and stragglers of the double vision, like torn documents of the bread where I resist.
Oh strong, sleepless leaven of being in front of his death. Death alone on a stone far away. Fixed death
I arrive. I am the silence of the wave. It is death, I feel it and its beauty leaves me a double six in the blanket. Cry my blood for a cloudy linen,
by urgent lichen messages; that I can no longer walk among the people with this science of the underwater tree.
A dwindling statues of my wine and I heard my gurgling femurs moan; I was absorbed in transparent mouths, my thin torso loneliness was born.
Now without a sob and without petty borders, already in the air, already in beats or in vegetables, rigorous whistles,
I stalk the aridity of the corners where strangers bloom in mysterious ties and lips.
Lovely poem my friend...
You're giving poetry a voice and a face @d-pend
I just fell in love with this line and your choice of words
Hmmm!
Soothing
very original, very creative images
wired poem but all the same i love the talent .