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    Aditus
  • Aditus
  • Author
  • 05/10/2023
  • 303 Words
  • 551 Views
  • 10 Comments
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
This year, I'm muddling through.

Some poems if I may - 2. Chapter 2

6.

This poem is written on my phone,

yogurt labels praise the fruity aroma of sun-ripened strawberries,

the refrigerated section makes me shiver,

while my eyes are fixed on the tiny hole someone punched into the lid of one cup.

My imagination sees fungal spores drifting by, finding their way inside,

germinating happily to become fungi oozing toxins. I want my mask!

Remnants of the pandemic?

 

The funny thing is, while I wrote this I felt ill and an hour later, I found out I had COVID for the first time. The irony of life.

 

7.

A tiny toddler shoves chubby fingers

deep into barely-thawed, rich, brownish mud

and instantly snowdrops show their white caps,

spread over the valley despite the cold.

 

A young girl capers raptly in the fields;

her shimmering green dress is dotted with

early bees and colorful butterflies,

impatient to depart, ready to mate.

 

The green cap hides black hair, streaked with silver.

Bird whistles dangle freely from its brim.

The tall man hurries over roots and sticks

to plunge his blue sword deep into the ground:

the water reservoir for summer.

 

8.

Ask me why I wander the same path by the lake

again and again.

Ask me why I always stop at the rickety bench,

sit down, and watch the black swans glide by.

Ask me why I go down to the water

until the waves lap at my shoes.

I can’t believe they cut down our tree;

only a stump remained.

 

9.

There is a smallish book on a shelf,

once there was ten or even twelve,

but the others had to burn,

so kids would never learn

the story of a beautiful *** elf.

 

10.

Everyone knows curiosity killed the cat.

But didn’t it die happy?

Thank you, for reading my poems.
Any reaction or comment is welcome. Please consider leaving a recommendation if you liked the story, so others may find it.
Copyright © 2023 Aditus; All Rights Reserved.
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  • Love 6
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

raven1

All of these are delightful in different ways.  Number 6 pleased me with its ironic humor.  Seven was a great way of describing the interactions of humans with nature.  Eight, though beautifully written was so sad, especially the last two lines.  I felt like crying.  Nine immediately turn my feeling to rage.  It provoked the teacher in me to realize how stupid some folks are to ban books.  I read that in many areas recently, school plays are now suffering from the same bans.  The last poem was again very ironic and humorous.  Thanks for writing and sharing these, Adi!

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Headstall

Evocative poems, Adi. I don't think we are ever prepared to be diagnosed with covid. It's a surreal feeling. I'm not a fan of grocery stores, so using outside pickup for mine is a remnant of the pandemic I like.

#8 speaks to my routines. I touch the same trees on my walks in my woods, and I sit in the same place if I sit at all. Wonderful, and sad. I don't like to see things change is such profound ways, yet I trim trees all the time. :) 

#9 is maddening. Culture wars are fed by bigotry and ignorance. Imagine being ignorant in this day and age. Mortifying. 

Thanks for the journey, Adi. Cheers!

  • Love 4
Parker Owens

Number 8 echoed in my heart and brain, reverberating like a sad song in a great cathedral. It stood out to me. But re-reading number 7, my feet twitched, as if I wanted to dance for sheer delight in springtime, which has been too long in coming this year. Number 9 makes me frown, as I abhor the kind of book-banning and library censorship we're going through now. Thank you for posting these, as they brought a smile to my face.

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