flower
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My love, my all
My friend, my soul
When I say I love you
It is not a joke
It's not a sad laughingstock
My fiancee bought a tiny lavender plant
Which I have started to water when she's not home
to take care of it.
That I give another living thing besides myself
my attention takes me into the realm of love
When a woman loves youYou can do nothing wrongYou can charm her with a songFrom you, she hardly needs a few.
When a woman loves youThe world looks beautifulEverything is wonderfulWhen she adores you.
Deep, rich purple flowers
long, stacky green stems
purple flowers reach into the stars
droopy, sad petals with vibrent, lively colors
frown at the ground from there nodes
Like a withered flower
I hold memories
dead
But still, beautiful
I once held life
Now, I break when held
Fragile
I once represented love
Now, lovers trample on me
Broken.
be not content with one flower of truth—gather ever truth’s bouquet.....Mark Toney © 2020.8/17/2020 - Poetry form: Monoku
I want you for you
All hands in
No second thoughts
You my ride or die
You the boss
I been lackin
And slackin
oh, the color!
that lines these painted prints of journey
that lay as flowered steps before me
but, oh, the wonder
seeing only the color
my lungs bloom with tulips,
vines entangle my throat.
the roses are deeprooted
and the petals seem to float.
Excuse me, I beg your pardon,I'm just here growing in my garden.Like everything, I come from a seed,So please don't call me a pesky weed.
A rose
Beautiful, with sharp prickly points
Viewed from any angle, it is still a rose
From an optimist's perspective,
A wonderful bloom of color
From a pessimist's eyes,
A withered, flowerless vine,
flower.
peaceful, beautiful, useless
you must perch in the wind,
dance in the rain,
withstand the cold,
& stay still in the soil.
but
flower.
Surprises often come in many hues
Blue, black, yellow, green and white too
Today morning I got a surprise in red
A flower for which I waited since long
Finally decided to bloom after nine years
Autumn flowers
Flowers withered by the march of time and season
Yet I find it very vivid to my heart and reason
Displayed in plain, on the table - a craft made
Where the wandering of my pen is inlaid
pink cheeks
rosy like blooms that burst when you compliment me.
you say my name
and everything else falls like petals, sinking
down
down
down.
She clings to me; like a button on my plaid shirt.
Sewn in strategically.
Gradually withering away in her fibers
But holding on for the life of her.
My hands are soaked in sweat but I cant interrupt her steady breath.
Like all flowers
Like all blooming flowers in spring,I also like to flourish at this time.
But this year I will bloom more.I will unfold my whole splendor.
Power is my sword.
Grace is my ford.
And me not be a hoard.
I use to like my cable cord.
Now I carve wood art.
My palace is made out of form.
a flower,
the emblem of growth
known to blossom and flourish
has been trampled
she struggles to grow anew
all willpower flattened
laughing at nothing
feeling everything
our love a rose in spring
something has changed
we have changed
into something more
maybe it was how his hand felt right in mine
I see the things that they can’t see
And hear the yes and the no’s and the maybes
And the million hearts
That you bury
In your backyard
I gave you mine
Last week on a Monday
When my calcium bones fell from their gums,
I felt Calliope rooting daffodils in the bottom of my throat;
drowning my lungs, as the morning light comes.
She told me to skip my rain coat,
a plucked rose. thrown on the ground, removed from the bush. detatched from the roots, the red petals ceased to be crimson. instead, the once red flower drowned in a pool of its own blood. plucked.
I balanced my back
Flat.
In looong grass.
Felt the tickle of butterflies landing on my tummy
And with the dandelions that sway in the field
Pain. Bloom.
Doubt. Rise.
Lonliness. Beauty.
Stress. Conquering.
Bills. Growing.
Grades. Budding.
Job. Relaxing.
Start. Finish.
The children run and play in a dark world.
The smoke infiltrates our lungs: fits of coughing interrupt their play.
They play in a dead world, putting on a show for those half-alive.
I hold a flower in my hand
It's been with me since I was born
Delicate to the eye, soft to the touch
Perfect, taintless, lily white
As I run and as I play
I try to keep my flower clean
Our true love began with dedication
Our mutual feelings we do impart
Your love leaves me with a bright sensation
To you I grant this gift: my loving heart
Compassion spreads its wings like a white swan
looking at wild flowers,
dancing in the wind,
that attract bees
while flourishing
with each other
they're targetted by envy
that comes from dead flowers,
snapped by the wind,
lets put things into a different perspective than just one person loving another
a demon glorifying an angel
Grace be that flower and how she glistens.
Your eyes sift along and you don't see truth,
It's not about the grace but who listens.
She will need you to see through to the youth;
White Daisy,
so delicate
so pure of touch.
Deadly promises
and broken ways
turned your
once pure soul dark.
What created
the blackness
now coating,
covering the white?
The fall was harsh, the winter was bitter.
A frozen field failed to yield spring life
except for one flower. It was no quitter.
It pushed and pounded on the ice in strife
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,
I heard something today...
I heard that a dead flower is not dead until it's pedals are nothing but ash.
Do I know what this means? Maybe.
The world is dirt
Yet I’ve seen the greatest of flowers
Spring up from its soil
And she was the loveliest flower
Two strangers are in line on a perfect day with a clear blue sky,
One of them watches something beautiful looking towards the ground as it goes on by,
Then he feels her turn around as she begins to realize,
A single seed, unknowingly holding burden
She doesn't know anything
The hate she must determine
She's locked up in a world of imposters
a world full of monsters
This seed which was planted
Laith,
I once loved a flower so much
One day it started to wilt
Despite all my efforts to save it
Even for just a day
It wilted away
That’s what it was like loving you
Dear Gardner,
Water swam along my leaves,
Rays of Sun like scorching flames shined on me,
You placed me by your favorite window,
Nobody dares travel these rough and rarely tread roads,
but I follow them because I know where they lead.
Deep in a forest overgrown with trees
shrouded in darkness with rocks all about,
but can you see?
To the woman who ties her long, golden hair back with a floral bandana
Oh, how your silly little smile and southern impersonations have made me feel
Death is slow
Like a sick flower with bleak petals that no longer grow
One by one, the petals begin to fall
Unable to avoid the final death call
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
Dear You Know Who You Are,
I was little,
Too weak for my own good.
You made sure I knew it too.
I was a flower,
Frostbitten by a cold world.
You crumbled my fragility
Have you ever seen a hummingbird cry?
Those crystalline tears dripping down iridescent feathers.
Perhaps that is why it's wings beat so fast.
A vain attempt to dry the dreadful drops before the blooming flowers see.
there is nothing more resilient than a flower
with bright and reverent colors and
soft dew sluggishly moving down the petals
as the sunlight beats down on the delicate
Do you ever
Stop
To think of the characteristics
In a red rose flower?
Beautiful
Palette of reds
Silk Petals
Positive phototaxis
To the wondrous scent.
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When we met, I loved you.
And when we grew, I lost you.
A path of black stones lay under my feet
and I travel along it wherever it leads,
through forest and canyon, over blue lakes
I wander along, whatever it takes.
And ever so often, an oddity
The lily
is the flower for a home.
But Californian poppies
make me feel so home sick
Roses make me angry,
and any flower from Britain
Is a flower for a whore.
But lilies
healthy relationships
they are really special things
they can be in each new friendship that someone brings
it might be hard to find one at first
but once they’re found
You treat me as a flower
From the side of the road
With its own pure beauty
You can’t let go
You hold me in your arms
Staring
Wondering
What I’ve been through
Staring
Wondering
I have roots for a mane, So unruly, not the best lion-tamer could tame,
The shadows on my face the only things visible,My eyes, mouth, and nose invisible,
A sweet young flower
a delicate Rose
dancing in the April shower
learning as she grows
A man drunk with lust
came from behind hid in the shadows
her peace and dreams he crushed
You say you think you know me,
But I think that you're confused
Because if you really knew me
You wouldn't say "abused."
You say "locked up, imprisoned,"
Held tight from the inside,
Little flower.
Planted in the concrete, you tried to grow.
It's not your fault.
There are one hundred million people trying just like you.
Crying, weeping, praying..
Please know you are more then they made you.
My hand reaches out,
Yet, I couldn't touch what I wanted.
Is it because my goal is too high?
Am I not tall enough?
Was it too much to hope for,
Why do they kill the flowers
whose dreams float above delicate, skin petals
Turning the scorching sun
into a sweet nectar blossom?
To satisfy the darkened green blades?
How the flower sits
so brightly lit
How perfectly it fits
how perfectly it sits
wading in the sun
always having fun
it goes along with the breeze
and so do the trees
and so do the leaves
I would compare us to the Beauty and the Beast, but I have not such low self-esteem
so as to compare my countenance to that of the beast,
In a day are so many sad hours
You may think I'd spend them alone
But I give love to happy flowers
And they make me feel at home
He picked me like a flower
tugged at my petals
tore my roots from the ground
broken stem, broken body
all that made me beautiful
he turned ugly
Sunflower of my withering heart,Oh how you bring me warmth,Like mountains your foundationsform around my worries,your voice soothes all woes. Smile and I'll smile,
Sunflower of my withering heart,Oh how you bring me warmth,Like mountains your foundationsform around my worries,your voice soothes all woes. Smile and I'll smile,
everything i write lately has been nothing but pain
but i fail to notice all the flowers
growing from the rain
i see the storm
not the cleanse
i see a new beginning
as the end
A flower she holds
But little did she know
The little flower she holds
Scolds every vase
THe flower she holds
Will determine her fate
There is no fault
For her today
You are a child's entertainment.
You are my entertainment.
They scoff at your gaudy colours,
They play you off as too innocent
for their rebellious excursions.
But I am here
waiting with you
I've always looked at life like a fight
ignoring that it might be one
I might not win
subduing the chaos
and guiding it into being okay
like a plant's tendrils
Life without love is like the sun without the moon,
life without love is like a flower that'll never bloom.
Life without love is like a star that won't shine,
life without love is like a poem with no rhyme.
A bright and beautiful flower
There you are
Beneath the star
Bounding with lots of power
Unique from all
So stiff and tall
An ever so blooming flower
Under the sky
So blue and bright
Roses are not red, they’re internal colors that blend together,
it is our naked eye that misguides us.
Something so natural, untouched yet so beautiful and breathtaking.
Life is no fun when you're counting it by the hours
Life is worth living when you’re gazing at this flower
Of what has become and what’s going to be
It stands bright and strong after stung by honeybees
Traveling through the vast expanse of this mighty world we venture upon beautiful beings. One of the most that happens to strike our likings are flowers. Because we see flowers to be these such beautiful things we take care of them.
The seed of the little flower was dropped by a mother bird trying to feed her little chicks. The seed happened to drop into a yard where it was overtaken by weeds and was savagely destroyed by pollution.
Dear sweet and putrid Flower
I find myself riveted by your solitude.
And there is no better method for passing the day
In this jail-cell we call freedom
Jazsmin
jaz - man noun f
1. A blossoming flower that will always keep growing
She silently developes within the faith of her blooms
I remember I found you lying in pain on top of the stone.
I took you with me because you were hurt and I was alone.
How beautiful your petals were as I brought you into the light, with a green stem and bright complexion.
The flowerA flower sits up on it's stem over looking the ocean an sunIt opens up only a few times a year for it dark for most of the timeAs the sun stars to dim it closes it peddles lowers it head to sleep
The flowerA flower sits up on it's stem over looking the ocean an sunIt opens up only a few times a year for it dark for most of the timeAs the sun stars to dim it closes it peddles lowers it head to sleep
The world around us is constantly moving
Even the smallest flower is beautifully blooming.
If a bud so small gets a chance to bloom
A human so tall, chance as well should assume.
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!
How I weep for the flower that set on the shelf
Not able to grow and become its true self
Only to grow until it runs out of space
Always stuck in the exact same place
Never getting the chance to take in the fresh air
Whoa, that man have caught my eye
My perceptions far on edge
I wonder why
Who could he be?
An abuser came straight from hell
To beat up on little ole me?
She once was a little flower
Not knowing how to speak
But when she did
Something beautiful happened
She became herself
And learned from all her failures
Flowers have been planted in my heart
Roots intertwineing with my veins pulling them apart
Seeds burrowed deep inside my chambers
The planters thinking they are doing me a favor
Some stay and help them grow
I was a flower
Now?
I'm a withered, lifeless stem
Petals brown and wrinkled
Stiff and brittle
Decomposing in the dump.
How did I get here?
You of all people should know.
I am alive:
My color radiant as blood
Electricity coursing throughout
I hold my head towards the sun
As I accept the blessing of rain
...
I am withered
The white lily waltz
as the wind gently crosses
the marble path
her silk fingers
sparkled like embedded quartz
as they reached out to grasp
the everlasting moonlight
What if I told you that I'm raw?
What if I told you that I'm broken?
What if I told you I feel like crying?
Well. I do.
What if I told you that I'm burdened?
Is it not interesting, the way a single daisy grows through a crack in the sidewalk?
Layer upon layer of cement and sweat and exertion were
Smoothed into place there and were never meant to be disturbed my man’s efforts.
Is it not interesting, the way a single daisy grows through a crack in the sidewalk?
Layer upon layer of cement and sweat and exertion were
Smoothed into place there and were never meant to be disturbed my man’s efforts.
Ive never seen a women with hair so fair.
Wrinkled skin but she wears Chanel.
92 with looks of 62.
She's great.
Warm Heart like her favorite blueberry muffin.
Devastated by loneliness...
I give you this lonely flower
Which contains all i can give
I'm sorry I didn't have the power
To give you a better chance to live
But in this world that's dying
Hope for a better tomorrow is rare
Sweet flower, oh so delicate
Awaiting to bloom, within the first week of November
To have something to give thanks for
The beautiful flower that is to come
When skies were always of a blue
In times when I knew love was in me,
When I was young and filled with joy,
The world seemed beautiful and good,
I loved a girl, and she loved me,
They see a pretty face
Divine beauty insurmountable to replace
I see her angel kiss freckles
Untainted worth no amount of empty shekels.
The strongest flower my naked eyes have seen
I have a past, we all do
Some of it is lies, other things are true
My grandma said I lied about rape
My aunt said I was fake
My church said I was a mistake
My friends said they needed a break
Golden days are full of bloom
But inside petals is dark
of gloom.
Beneath waxy leaves
are hidden shadow
I really enjoyed how bubbly she and goofy he
lindy hopped on smooth wood
without looking in the studio mirror.
It wasn’t so lovely once you came
not to ask me to dance, but to call me a wallflower
I will look upon a normal tree,
Robust trunk and swinging leaves,
Then realize I wanted a flower.
I’ll tell myself it could be one,
Then it is, the transformation done,
Less of a tree with each passing hour.
I planted you a rose; sat and watched it bloom
the rose didn't feel me watching,
or notice that I was trying to forget you.
Who do roses grow for?
Surely mine for you,
Why must
you make me suffer?
One error and I am faulty?
Why do you uproot my regret
and prevent me from my blossom?
Even the most delicate rose
has its thorns, and you still
When our species is summoned
Brought from the unknown
Where in is one's spirit shown?
It is hidden deeply within
only obviously felt when
you feel it radiating remembering where
Crystal rose,
You reflect light so beautifully,
But how does it feel to have petals of stone and not of felt?
To hold no fragrance,
To not sway melodically in the winds’ breeze,
To only be a sturdy copy?
A small violet flower sits in her pot,
Wilting away and left out to rot.
Stagnant in growth, surrounded by weeds,
Some food and some water is all that she needs.
People walk near her to get her hopes high,
Steel rafts of ocean hands
Pearl into icy depths
Piercing through its smooth skin
Breaking the shocks of energy
Through thick blue
Far away a lone flower blooms.
Alive only by the soft light of the moon.
In a dream she catches the whisper of a tune.
The song of the lost and lonesome loon.
Hear the melody it is destined to croon.
Ohh, but a laugh.As precious as a flower.'Tis not what's in a name.'Tis what is in a laugh with an open hand beside it.
(March 20, 2012)
hanging from a petals poredrying slowly above the floor,of yellow roses and red sunflowers. paint a florist affair as birds outside shoot ray-guns to the sun.
The sun and a flower met oneday
admiring one another's beauty
and they loved each other, oh so much
that they were the other one's, truely
"Ive lost my way!" the sun proclaimed
A flower so rare
So unique
Said to bloom once a life time
Through tender care-of Mother Nature, it grows-
Into the beauty of life
The single sight
The flower of a lifetime
The sight of beauty
The flower was dead…
So she went to bed.
There she laid her head…
Because the flower was dead…
And there was no way it could mend.
Along came a man dressed in white
All its life it was tortured
Stomped on, covered, abandoned.
Alone in the midst of winter it sprouted.
When everything else was dead, it came to life.
The flower in the vase By the window sillGave us air to breathe as it grewBeauty to look at in all timeTaken advantage of It was pickedAnd there it sits in the windowWilting slowlyBut sooner than it shouldI weep for that beautyAs it was ta
Pick me not a flowerAs though that were all I amA quickly fading pretty thingJust a trinket in your hand
“All I need is a red rose
To see her dance upon her toes,
But in my garden there is none,”
The student cried up to the sun.
Lying in a nest above
Sat a bird inspired by love.
Gather flowersSo does this generationThroughout the decade and moreWithin the overwhelmed nationThose whom adoreColors spinning-They thread it through their hairSome singing-
In another world, I would be a flowerWith light pink petals and a long green stemI'd be awfully pretty and wonderfully wittyThe plain people would pass and I'd pity them
It's petals are different colours,
Red and pink and blue and yellow;
like a picture painted on the wall.
The stem so long and green,
with leaves as thin as paper.
Grass and others around it's roots
Another day, another hour
Until I walk past a lonely flower
I stare at it’s beauty and it’s grace
That’s when I realize that I slowed my pace.
You're in my thoughts,
And all around me
You're in the water,
When I feel small by the ocean
You're in the sand,
Slipping through my fingers
You're in my garden,
A sunflower standing tall
I padlocked the miles so distance could be kept
In a vault where nothing of value could be dreamt
Can you slam my fingers in a metal door
Till they crunch and I can't touch
No not anymore
Where yellow flowers bloom,
The sun sets below the trees
Winds blow a selfless tune
An awakening of light from the moon
But the glow is just a tease
Where yellow flowers bloom
The pedals become immune
Why is the rose so beautiful?
In life and death.
It glistens, frosted by the morning tears
that gently fall away,
to die?
Or do they help start life
down deep in the roots of thought.
You’re so small
You grow every day
Inch by inch
So skinny and long
You start to bloom
Pedal by pedal
You’re so bright and secure
Peacefully you stand
Making the world so colorful
Hello little flower
How are you this morning?
Did you sleep well?
Oh little flower look how beautiful you are
As you grow and grow
And twine and twist
I felt the frost on my tongue, because I was growing young and the sun didn't shine from the words I spoke. I kissed a flower as I smelled a delicate perfume and walked in a cold garden among a cold world.
My Flower may still be a bud, but If I don't get better at hanging on to that wall I'm gonna be dead-headed before I know it.
A dancer delicately flutters,
Tiptoes,
Pirouettes along the fibers in my mind,
Still suspended in the limbo of REM,
dreaming and lusting to put power to words.
Match the brunt force and desire.
Roses are said to bloom in the spring,
Just like every other flower.
Perhaps this year there is a different timing,
For a rose to not bloom this particular hour.
I watch each day as the flower grows
I wonder, does it know?
That it grows in a world
where bad things happen, wars are fought, people starve
But still I watch as the flower grows
Bought the bulb as a gift, boxed with
soil, pot,
all it needed to grow and watched
the flicker of time's lapse
lengthen its green shadow, a scratch
in a leaf like a wink
