C
literature

Cultivated

soma's avatar
By soma   |   Watch
0 0 146 (1 Today)
Published: June 24, 2005
Brother crept away
with a mangrove girl
a beach nomad
from a family of salt-slick
bottom feeders
tricky little roots
grazing the fecund, decaying mud flats
their shuffle-step gypsy dances
on the shore
under the glow of a chloroflourocarbon sunset
more seductive
than our manicured
slow-light garden

Sister
stunted for so long, fruitless
it was just one dose
one cycle of gibyrilic acid
now heavy, swollen
with sweet, poisoned fruit
and strange pollenless blossoms
culled herself
so she could be held
at night
I find her petals shed, buried secretly
in dry earth

our Mother, her
blastoma swelling, invading
chokes on rusty water
as she chides me
she has said
I am a weed, like
my father
{I remember his stories, and little else}
her leaves dragging
she spits, and says
that I will leave her, too

but I am rooted
by the sweet tang
of familiar minerals and guilt
this deep soil
its well-tread and tilled boundaries home
this narrow garden
its scents and traces obsessive with
memory
I send down feeders to the bottom of our
history

and forget the tales of
wilderness
{a riot of jungle
as far as the eye can see
tribes, bright with
orchid blossom
and dreaming
run, singing
under a canopy of moon and vines

or the vast deserts
with fragrant, twisted hermits
crouching in the shade of red rocks
sipping deep, secret water
whispering to the heaven past the
blind white sky
guarded by mute sentries
arms and spines raised in warning
}

I forget the ancient silva
{great forests
where brave and foolish saplings find quests
abandoning their shaded
villages by small, chuckling brooks
while scarred and wise elders
chuckle from their doorsteps
knowingly
}

I prune these childish tales,
these tail-swallowing dreams
these indulgences
I am rooted
and I must tend the garden that I have
cull the tricky weeds
and temper the sun
but
still, at night, I
sometimes pluck strange pollen
from the cross-winds
and taste
wilderness
Recommended Literature
S
Seasons of Violet.
We called her Violet, and she was. We knew her when she was young and pale, during Fall And when we'd climb old trees, their brittle branches Like welcoming arms Would snap in two And we'd cascade to the earthy ground Carpeted with golden and red and orange And as we fell, Secretly, she'd wish with all the goodness in her heart That she were a leaf as well That like a leaf, she could be swept away to some distant place In arms that would not break In arms that belonged to people who truly loved her. We called her Violet, and she was. And with the changing of the seasons, Winter had taken away her smile and replaced it with t
T
The Hunger games
In a world where so many die The only thing you can do is try All 23 will be against you, but they feel that way too The crowd can help in deciding your fate If you are either valuable or dead weight Your mentor will train you Unless it's Haymitch, then they'll say "Forget you" You shall be treated like king or queen Your life will feel serene Until the final day comes Then the dread will pound like drums As you stand on your podium You hope you will blossom Because death is soon And the audience will watch as if it is a cartoon You will run for your life With the wildlife Some will make it and some will perish Chances are in anguish Whe
s
stop ruining autumn.
listen: fall makes me think of leaving and of apple cider, though i never liked apple cider. but i liked the idea of it. listen: two years ago i met a boy as fragile as dead leaves who called me his little spring girl. (i'd always liked autumn the best.) he kissed the two soft dimples on the small of my back and told me helikedme helovedme hewantedme. and oh, by the way, "everything good must come to an end." listen: on our one year anniversary we picked out two pumpkins and i drew elephants on them for us to carve. he cut his out so aggressively that it lost its shape. lopped off tusks and broken trunks became just a large, jagged ho
© 2005 - 2019 soma
This works as a science fiction poem. There is a brief sketch of the world it comes from, which I can furnish if you're interested.
Recommended Literature
S
Seasons of Violet.
We called her Violet, and she was. We knew her when she was young and pale, during Fall And when we'd climb old trees, their brittle branches Like welcoming arms Would snap in two And we'd cascade to the earthy ground Carpeted with golden and red and orange And as we fell, Secretly, she'd wish with all the goodness in her heart That she were a leaf as well That like a leaf, she could be swept away to some distant place In arms that would not break In arms that belonged to people who truly loved her. We called her Violet, and she was. And with the changing of the seasons, Winter had taken away her smile and replaced it with t
T
The Hunger games
In a world where so many die The only thing you can do is try All 23 will be against you, but they feel that way too The crowd can help in deciding your fate If you are either valuable or dead weight Your mentor will train you Unless it's Haymitch, then they'll say "Forget you" You shall be treated like king or queen Your life will feel serene Until the final day comes Then the dread will pound like drums As you stand on your podium You hope you will blossom Because death is soon And the audience will watch as if it is a cartoon You will run for your life With the wildlife Some will make it and some will perish Chances are in anguish Whe
s
stop ruining autumn.
listen: fall makes me think of leaving and of apple cider, though i never liked apple cider. but i liked the idea of it. listen: two years ago i met a boy as fragile as dead leaves who called me his little spring girl. (i'd always liked autumn the best.) he kissed the two soft dimples on the small of my back and told me helikedme helovedme hewantedme. and oh, by the way, "everything good must come to an end." listen: on our one year anniversary we picked out two pumpkins and i drew elephants on them for us to carve. he cut his out so aggressively that it lost its shape. lopped off tusks and broken trunks became just a large, jagged ho
anonymous's avatar
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Sign In
©2019 DeviantArt
All Rights reserved