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...oh dear, that ditty 'lonely little petunia in an onion patch' has started running thru my mind. 'But seriously, folks. . .'
. . .7. . .8. . .9. . .UP Before the Bell!
A single blade of grass, crushed and bleeding,
shivers and pokes it head through muck. Single
tap by a lone hailstone pummeled it to the mat
for rain to pound. Blades on every side
fell and sank or washed away. Widespread
drownings and death by lightning: CNN.
Sun finally wins over clouds, starts to melt
stones and dry-clean swamps. Blade hears a rip
as it twists all the way free, but gasps a breath.
Feeling comes back. Pain is a wild boar
readying foot-long teeth. Somehow the blade
pulls up and takes stock. Am I all right?
goes the drill. How can I go on with so many lost?
Why did the storm choose to maim them?
Best troops died. Here I am, this sick shade
of green. Puke with hair. Looked scrawny before
it thundered. Crooked as a stomped petunia.
Most who died were tall and strong. Good-
looking, did their job. Packed on the chlorophyll.
Tell me it makes sense. Sunís warm, though.
Warmer every day. Rain has learned to
chill a little. Smells like the first dew of April.
Honeysuckle, fresh ground. Who would have thought
Iíd fill out? Believe I am sprouting buds
might just turn into robinís-egg flowers. Oh,
they will be small. They will be shy. Sun is going
to dim as winter winds down-river. Leaves
will land on dirt hard as rock. Each other.
Most are bound to smother. Most are bound
to crack beneath wheels and feet. Surrendering,
every single blade will add to a boring brown mat.
Mat will grow stout, then thin and disappear.
But now it is summer. Grasses have a duty
to provide cushions. Beautify and shelter
those who must stay undercover. Better
make food and distribute it fast. Clouds are
dressing in the dark. Gird yourself for hail.
(c) Phyllis Jean Green, May, 2005
L'Intrigue the Wild Magnolia of Literature
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|Reviewed by email@example.com Bennett
|KUDOS TO YOU MY FELLOW POET
ON YOUR OUTSTANDING WRITING.
|Reviewed by Michelle Kidwell Power In The Pen
|A wonderful write here, excellent.
|Reviewed by Nordette Adams
|Rich from the mind of a rich soul.|
|Reviewed by Kate Clifford
|Fantastic nature write and exploration of thoughts and emotions.|
|Reviewed by Kate Burnside
|A fantastic microscopic eye's view of living life large, Phyllis. We would learn so much about how to survive and thrive if we just stopped to look either up or down from time to time... instead of inhabiting the mindsets of the vast and largely vacuuous space in between which we have filled with our own meaninglessness! I love this - well observed and documented in the most thought-provoking way. One of the leading literary poetry magazines here in the UK is looking for contributions on the theme of "moments of obscurity outside Warhol's fifteen minutes of fame: the unnoticed, the ignored; an interstice between two blades of grass in a municipal park; an arm cuaght in the background of a photograph; the extras in last night's film..." - this would suit well. It is highly prestigious to get into it, so I would love to see a contact of mine in there! :)) Deadline mid-July. www.magmapoetry.com. Best wishes! Kate xx|
|Reviewed by William Bonilla
|An outsatnding write
thanks for sharing
|Reviewed by Maria Lupinacci
I like this, it is layered and deep, always something that intriques my in poetry! And love your intro!
|Reviewed by Sandie Angel
It's been raining and thundering lightnings here a while ago in Toronto, Canada. One lady in her 30's was struck by lightning in downtown Toronto. What a day!
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
|Reviewed by Bhuwan Thapaliya
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|You have exposed the power of the "small" Phyllis. Nicely done. Thank you. Love and peace to you. Regis|
|Reviewed by Sandra Corona
|Beautiful and belated Happy Mother's Day :)!
|Reviewed by Janet Caldwell
|This reads on so many levels, like peeling an onion or when those nasty little catepillars who fall from their cocoons and have turned into raving beauties that we are in awe of. Your poetry is like that, so friggin' deep, if you keep looking, digging and once in awhile we let our hands get dirty, we find a real pearl, something unique.
Love, Janet xoxoxo
|Reviewed by Sherry Heim
|Oh if we all had the sense of purpose and determination of a single blade of grass, what a different life we might lead. I am always amazed when I see a blade of grass that has grown through concrete or through a rock. Perhaps the reason that the grass was able to do it was that nobody remembered to tell him he couldn't do it. Wonderful write, Pea with so many vivid images.
|Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
|Excellent write Lady Pea!!
|Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
|powerful imagery; excellent poem, sweet pea! brava! very well done!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :D