Garden
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A scent bourne on the breeze
Sweet rose,anenome
Winter jasmine blooms
by the sweet peas
A garden is a poem
of scented words
butterflies and bees
and little birds
If tomorrow never comes
and I’ve still not found a way
to do the things I’d like to do
but failed to day-by-day,
I just want you to know
the dreams that I possessed,
the hopes that kept me going,
When Winter winds begin to whirl around
and whisper through my long and lonely days,
I’ll light the fire and stoke it with a poem
and hope I find some comfort in a phrase.
Mon pays, c’est le beau soleil
Mon pays n’est pas le dur hiver
Mon pays est un Éden souvent vert
I am not going to wait for you to get illOr to die to send you bouquets of flowersRight now is the time to make you feelThat you're loved amid the rain showers.
On a limestone laced hillside,
Under a sun burnished Umbrian sky;
Like resting peasants, the olives thrive.
I was there when you built your garden
I helped you pick what plants to grow
I held your hand when you spoke of the harvest and all the meals we would share.
Imagine being picked
Like petals from a flower
Someone
holding you,
wanting you,
wishing for you
Only to be pricked by the thorn
And watch the blood fall
Mercilessly
Tested and tried and discouraged, I dried my cheeks with my head hanging low.
I manifested a truth, blessed with courage, i died in defeat, then my corpse began to grow.
𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓼 𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓹
𝓑𝓮𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓴𝔂 𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼
𝓐 𝓱𝓪𝔃𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽
𝓐 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽
𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓼, 𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓮
Logged between the row of housesand the grassy banksruns the canal;it waters shimmering in the sunrays,twinkling like diamonds, The canal shimmering in Sunrise,as shadows dance within,the sun throwing his rays,like diamonds on the running canal. T
focused praying mantis still as a stickclueless prey three times its size—best friend of gardeners..
© 2019 Mark Toney. All rights reserved
.
The peace rose tenderly tended grows,
In multiple seasons through out the year,
It’s opening beauty dispels war’s fear.
And tokens of friendship with a foe sows.
I grow the creamy hued rose in my heart,
The peace rose tenderly tended grows,
In multiple seasons through out the year,
It’s opening beauty dispels war’s fear.
And tokens of friendship with a foe sows.
I grow the creamy hued rose in my heart,
Did we design the seed?
The little grain of Hope.
Did we comand to grow?
The little sprout of Faith.
Did we create the Light?
The ray that makes it grow.
Did we command the rains?
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away,
There was a beautiful tiger princess.
And every prince from near and far
Tried their best to win her heart.
The tiger princess was kind and good,
I remember one night
As we walked hand in hand
A rose secretly clutched in your sweaty palm
The wind frolicking through your locks
And mine swiftly gone upon the winds of love
My right-side brain's growing fowers,
my lungs are sprouting roots.
My heart's a dripping beehive,
its sweetness all for you.
So wrap it all up in paper,
send a burnt offering to the sky.
the cutest thing
is when we walk through a garden
and the bees harmoniously hover around you
miataking you for a flower
oh silly bee, oh silly me
i too make the same mistake
Kira
Through the rolling waves of time,
The core of existence has never altered nor refined.
Starting with the first faint memories of a family dinner:
White jasmine rice with a selected number of simple side dishes.
To wake from your sleep
With groggy, foggy eyes
And to know of what you dream
'T is something you keep.
To wake from your daze
Listening to the voices
I notice those faces
Guilt blooms in my chest like an unwelcomed garden.
But luckily I chose to weed them out before they had any chance to stay and wind around my heart.
I am a garden.
This garden knows unrequited love.
This garden gives unconditional love, nonetheless.
Ripping and tearing bits and pieces out.
A bouquet of smiles and hope.
Where foot petals unfolded
Under canopies of foliage was a place
Neither good nor bad --
Was simply beyond. Rumi told
Me this: these words tattooed
We will have peace,
Whether we are in Eden,
Or Gethsemane.
For we will rise with the sun,
And we will eat sweet fruit,
From His vineyards.
We will go to the water,
The figures of stone watch over us with vigilance.
The songbirds sing our praises in their molto vivace.
The wildflowers form a carpet underneath our feet.
I cannot help but picture you in a garden,
laying amongst the wildflowers.
~awatr
Your lips were rose petals, dipped in natural moisture
and your skin was kissed by the sun,
leaving me constantly warm.
Quiet in its blooming,
Branching thoughts of wisdom,
Soft petals cascade.
In lavender and gentle pinks.
Then soul crushing blues,
sweep the garden,
petals peacefully cascading no more,
We admire the reckless beauty
of the overgrown fields,
overrun by explosions of sunshine-yellow blooms
and tall grass, swaying in tune
to the gentle wind,
We admire the reckless beauty
of the overgrown fields,
overrun by explosions of sunshine-yellow blooms
and tall grass, swaying in tune
to the gentle wind,
the garden is overgrown by weeds,
the garden would be lovely without them,
the flowers would be able to be free,
to be able to breathe
untammed roots and stems weave throughout
The world is dirt
Yet I’ve seen the greatest of flowers
Spring up from its soil
And she was the loveliest flower
My body is the tree of life
Bearing fruit to all creation
You are nothing more than a bee
Only needed for pollination.
I birth flowers of beautiful colors
Shades, of reds,purples and blue.
I planted my legacy inside of you.
A tiny pebble of a seed,
brittle and bitter from a lifetime of storms.
I buried it deep in your soul.
somewhere far away
surviving far past decay
is a garden full of the flowers of emotion
the garden has every feeling
the good ones and the bad
from happiness and anger
to feeling very sad
I wish I could be like the other hares
Running around the yard without a care,
but I can only sit here and surmize
that feeling of running to get the prize.
Dear Rosarian,
Will I find you in the garden
Where you tend the leaves
And mind the breeze
And care for all it's beauty
Rosarian, Rosarian
Have you ever seen beyond the garden
Awake upon this garden
You who belies life and lives
For the wind in your hair
Sing upon this sunshine
You who decries truth and spies
Magic in the air
Golden opportunity mixed
She is a wildflower.
Not picked for her beauty,
but for her wild heart.
A child of mother nature
she grows in the darkest of places.
Through the cracks of brokenness
she blooms with grace.
when the heat wave strikes, do not moveit is better to become transparent and allow it to go through youholding onto suffering will only cause more pain either way when something is too cold or too hot it burns
Flowers are sweet.
Bees can sting, the last thing I heard was the songbird sing.
Friendly pollinators make the flowers shake and tilt.
All the while, you left me lying there buried in the silt.
Blast! Blast heartbeat at the smallest gesture,
Quietest thought, quickest glance. All of the best for
Expansion in each’s willpower’s might.
In Eve’s diary written right,
Even unofficial and undivined
I am a canyon carved with water-worn cracks;The weight of other people always breaking my back.
Even a garden is perfect from far away,
but look close for problems clear as day.
The weeds and roots twist and wind,
despite the farmers daily grind.
Without change of habbits or location,
Angel in the gardenI see your golden wingssense the sweetness of your gazeas it envelopes me todayNight has clearly left usthe stars and moon set downthe sun has cllimved her ladder
I’ve planted you a garden deep inside my mind
The flowers, they’re all dying
You must turn on the light
Fallen Shoulders
Once Raised High
Gardens Growing Up like Vines
Flower fields place their Roots
Deep within the Spine they Loop
Beneath Between Around About
The Cord that Dances
Up to the Crown.
I know what it’s like to fall in love and this is not it
i used to have foggy glassesand titchy skin that wrinkled in all the right spotsand a burdensome nose and a wacky smile cocked to the side with thin lips
My words were ugly, so I hid them.
They grew into a monster, and a world for it to live in.
I tried to tell my mom but she says its just a figment
I tried to tell my dad, but my dad says I'm just tripping
If not for hands and feeling I would have been blind, just a women being led by her lover
Summer had come and wrenched out the sweet smells of earth from the dirt
Flowers had long bloomed over
To dam water that flows
to a withering rose
is a sin.
To release a flood
to a drenched shrub
is a sin.
For both will die
whether wet or dry.
Though the mystery
My disease is a giant puzzle.
A garden puzzle,
containing varying shades of green,
some specs of pink and blue.
I have a few pieces;
some are part of the big picture,
others are completely irrelevant.
Forever my thoughts bend to you
Like the leaning of a tree to to the wind
Forever my eyes turn to you
Like the search of a flower for sunlight
America's Garden
Here in America diversity is key,
Seen on this soil are seeds from overseas,
Sailing on water or flying in air,
The common goal of freedom brings those seeds there,
Prancing around Lillies marked the destination of a new place.
Inside of a cave I dropped my bag on concrete steps and sat ontop of a hill from the wooden old house. Washed away by the wind were roses, sunflowers, and rabbits.
Here in the garden, kaleidoscopic.
Here where I took and ate, saccharine.
Here she was born.
Let me go
Please stop it.
My veins crepuscule.
Eyes dark
Lips dark
In the garden, a bird, a flowergold the edge, gold the dawn that hoversa song of summer, a tiny sparrow perchedlong upon the woody yarrow, that musky fills the aira redolent warmly breeze, brushes by the maple trees
Garden of roses
Garden of love
Simple garden of kisses
To make my wishes
Dreams in the garden
Twilight in the night
Moonlight glows
In the night
The garden of happiness
Hello! Attached is a video I made for my poem, if you could watch that as well. Let it load a little if it doesn't work right away. Thank You, Enjoy and Share the Poem with others!
my father met my mother on the train tracksleading out of Hackensack, New Jersey. she was clad in blue and embossed with blisters;he was wearing a black sweater and had a stumbling tongue.
Still:
He sat.
Blank:
His mind.
Once a mental sanctuary,
now a dull, parched Garden of Eden
Imaginations free-flowing organ plugged
You are my sweetest garden of effervescent lilies
And the winter’s tender whistle of song in my ear
The hour when a rainbow first awakens
And a sunset’s dewy tears turn to skyfall
My sanity hangs in the balance as I write.
I fill the page with a world born of darkness and light.
Of a universe centered at the very tips of my fingers.
It flows from my mind in smooth streams of conciousness
like the flower, so blooms inspiration.
roses only grow from fertile clay...
thoughts, from a fecund imagination.
insights spring from fruitful contemplation
while new buds grow with the sun's warm rays.
Love came here one day,
Made a garden,
Planted seeds in hearts,
And went away.
Some rapidly started to grow.
They sprouted leaves
And grew deep roots,
But others were very slow.
The silence of your voice
speaks volumes of pain.
The butterflies in my stomach
have flown to such great heights.
You are precious china.
Moments in time, captured and frozen forever.
Is that not what photographs are?
I know that when I sit down
And look at pictures,
I am thrust into that moment of time,
Living it over and over again.
The rain began in my brain,
Its lightning strikes my heart.
Its torrential downpour
Takes sight away,
Tunnel vision
Let me take y’all back
Back in time
Somewhere between the nights
Somewhere without the lights
Where you were the only person in my life
That can make this thing we call lust feel so right
August 18th
Wrapped up your last pair of good sneakers
In the crease of my elbows
Went walking in your arms
We tiny seedsAre nurtured with loveMothers plant usWith shovels and gloves
Mothers pull weedsFor more room to growAnd mount us to stakesTo lean on in snow
This is my first time putting my stuff out there. Wrote this when i was 14- 15. thanks.
red rose, red rose, oh what, do you say?
For alas and alack... He took my life away.
I can smile and look at everythingTwisting a strand of hair with my finger,A childish expression i wear to pass the time. Until then I am wasting my time skipping and stepping on broken leaves,My toes growing numb from the water soaking into my sh
Walking through the garden of our memories..
watering the flowers with coincide with our growth..
closing my eyes i breathe in the fresh air..
Inside my soul it cries and wails,
I keep it trapped, for the key is mine.
Until the cage, from my own hands, at long last falls and fails.
Nobody can comprehend that museful flower,
Plant me a rose
Plant me a smile
Love out the weeds
And all that is vile
Grow me a lily
Grow me a joy
One I’ve not known
Since I was a boy
Plant me a rose
Plant me a smile
Love out the weeds
And all that is vile
Grow me a lily
Grow me a joy
One I’ve not known
Since I was a boy
A being but not of flesh
He is existence
He is truth
He is all
The melody he sings
Graces the ears
Like honey the tongue
A fresh current sprung
Spreading, reaching, growing, flowing—unheard
