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Whether the knife falls on the melon or the melon on the knife, the melon suffers.
Another Poetic Sigh
how can
slicing a melon
be a poem?
but the two faces
of that melon
are poems
one face was
a haiku
the other is a
sonnet
and the monk
who lives alone
on the top of the
tree
laughs
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the Fruit and Veg
Knocking you listen
to the sound
that a watermelon makes
to test if it is ripe
and I wipe the smile form my face,
trying to look sincere
and the whole of Fruit and Veg is filled
with shoppers, adoring ripe fruit and vegetables
crowding around some places with special offers
like a great vast congregation
gathered in the temple of a god
and tonight you will again
make your great fruit salad
with chopped and sliced mangoes,
papaw, sweet melon, some squeezed orange juice
and grapes
and maybe this afternoon
we will eat the watermelon
in the shade next to the swimming pool.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Orchard
Sweet as the sap from the
nectar tree
Is the love
Which you give
Exclusuveky unto me
Ripe as a cluster of raisins
Which grew in the sun
Is our love
This day as
From the day we begun
Luscious as a honey dew melon
You are and
shall forever be
A seal
A signature
on my heart
For all
to see
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Celebrate the Melon
Juicy and delicious they are
Just made for a summer treat
As they squirt inside your mouth
They’re so wonderful and sweet
Picnics aren’t complete
Until a watermelon is cut
Slices of the scrumptious fruit
Drags you from a daily rut
Party’s have a veggie plate
And nestled right within
Are melons all chunked up
Not to have them is a sin
And also is the cantaloupe
So perfect for a summer fare
Orange as a ripe pumpkin
Smoothing out unwanted cares
So let us celebrate the melon
Whether red or orange or green
Juicy and so sweet
A scrumptious summer dream!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The melon seller does not announce, ""Bitter melons."" Distant water does not put out a nearby fire.
Symbolism
the black wings of
a butterfly
are on top of the
red slice of
melon
she fabricates
some stories
from there
she says i cannot
say i am not
part of the black wings
the slice of the red melon
fears are embedded
on the red blood and
... finally i resign, she
never knew what a poem
means, to me it is my universe.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Water Chariot
Sky lies inside the Sky
Welkin lies inside the welkin
Carried away by
Water Chariot
Sun lies inside the sun
Moon lies inside the moon
Carried away by
Water chariot
Mountain lies inside the mountain
Hill lies inside the hill
Carried away by
Water chariot
Womb lies inside the womb
Life lies inside the life
Carried away by
Water chariot
Green inside the green
Breath lies inside the breath
Carried away by
Water chariot
Shore filled and slept,
To him
Water chariot
Like this…
Ascent the water chariot
Passing with elegance
Unattainable sun
Smiling moon
Chattering stars…
Grown Hill, Frazzle Rock
Planted Trees, Blossom Flowers
Adoring bees…
Radiant dhub grass
Young male-female
Grown-up, languish, perished
Dread umbrage vanished
Delighted milestone
Passed, this Water chariot
Sally pleasure trip …
This Life’s chorus
Rotating carnival
Even for Midge
Its own share…
This way…
Ascent the water chariot
Pass with Splendor.
poem by Kavitha Rai
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Kiwi
Fruit without a stone, its shiny
pulp is clear green. Inside, tiny
black microdot seeds. Skin
the color of khakiImagine
a shaggy brown-green pelt
that feels like felt.
It's oval, full-rounded, kind
of egg-shaped. The rind
comes off in strips
when peeled with the lips.
If ripe, full of juice,
melon-sweet, yet tart as goose-
berry almost. A translucent ring
of seed dots looks something
like a coin-slice of banana. Grown
in the tropics, some stone
fruits, overlarge, are queerly
formed. A slablike pit nearly
fills the mango. I
scrape the fibrous pulp off with my
teeth. That slick round ball
in avocado (fruit without juice) we call
alligator pear:
Plant this seedpit with care
on three toothpicks over a glass
of water. It can come to pass
in time, that you'll see
an entire avocado tree.
Some fruits have stones, some seeds.
Papaya's loaded with slimy black beads.
Some seem seedlesslike quince
(that makes your tastebuds wince.)
Persimmon will
be sour, astringent 'until
dead ripe,' they say. Behind
pomegranate's leathery rind,
is a sackful of moist rubies. Pear,
cantaloupe, grapefruit, guava keep their
seeds hidden, as do raspberry, strawberry,
pineapple. Plum, peach and cherry
we know as fruits with big
seedstones. And fig?
Its graininess is seed. Hard to believe
is prickly durian. It's custard
sweetand smells nasty.
But there's no fruit as tasty,
as odd, or as funny
none
as fresh-off-the-vine New Zea-
land kiwi.
poem by May Swenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jacky Don Tucker (Play By The Rules Miss All The Fun)
(Toby Keith/Chuck Cannon)
Jacky Don Tucker was my daddy's little brother
And at seventeen he jumped the fence
He joined a rock 'n' roll band, got a tattoo on his hand
Granny said he never had a lick of sense
'Cause by the time he turned seven he was a stealin' watermelons
Playin' house with the girl next door
Drinkin' muscadine wine by the time he was nine
Sneakin' out and smokin' cigarettes under the porch
He was a melon stealin'
Cop-a-feelin'
Daredevil fool
A do-it-anywayin'
Playin' hooky from school
A water tower poet class of '73
He'd say by God you better know it if you're runnin' with me
'Cause I'm skinny dippin' finger flippin' son of a gun
Play by the rules
You're gonna miss all the fun
He was always drag racin' and he kept the sheriff chasin'
But they never caught ole Jacky Don
'Cause he was nobody's fool, the definition of cool
He even cut a donut on the courthouse lawn
He created quite a scandal that the locals couldn't handle
When he took up with the preacher's baby girl
They bought a new double wide and on their wedding night
Aunt Jenny went to rockin'
Uncle Jacky Don's world
He was a melon stealin'
Cop-a-feelin'
Daredevil fool
A do-it-anywayin'
Playin' hooky from school
A water tower poet class of '73
He'd say by God you better know it if you're runnin' with me
'Cause I'm skinny dippin' finger flippin' son of a gun
Play by the rules
You're gonna miss all the fun
He was a melon stealin'
Cop-a-feelin'
Daredevil fool
A do-it-anywayin'
Playin' hooky from school
A water tower poet class of '73
He'd say by God you better know it if you're runnin' with me
'Cause I'm skinny dippin' finger flippin' son of a gun
Play by the rules
You're gonna miss all the fun
Play by the rules
You're gonna miss all the fun
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I heard thy verses
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine,
text lines thank thine Italian fettuccini,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.
Thy bare feet on grapes dance for wine,
Bound to thee my greed for baked panini,
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.
Thy radish desire - in veins is flow malign,
dance fayre amid spud and fresh zucchini,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.
Thy casseroles enjoy thee, as I be on line,
dare to kisse thy big toe- al dente linguini,
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.
Oh, fayre maiden thy kisse doe not decline,
Thy coles 'n' lettuce I love, wear a beanie,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.
Thou doe not cook bacon wearing a bikini,
thy squash embrac'd art, e'er to enshrine.
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Irony
this world has known so much anger
it is in fact bored with anger
and fed-up with violence
and so i will not add to it
i will give it laughter to lighten its mood
it is fuming
it is square-faced
it is into serious trouble
i will give it the comfort that it deserves
a square meter of green grass
a few liters of rain
a kilometer of a river
twenty grams of clouds
two trees filled with ripe fruits
three cans of crystal blue sea
a tiny sun inside a glass of water
three stars inside a bucket of milk
a moon inside a wrapper of biscuit
i promise i will not urinate on it
neither shall i spit in any of its corners
i will whisper to its bosom
i love you
i will tell its rainbow
i will care for you
i will be careful in my steps
not to hurt its fingertips.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Elite
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
You like attention
It proof to you youre alive
Stop parading your angles
Confused? youll know when youre ripe
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
youre pregnant
With all this space
Thick with money
But I lost my taste
Youre into depression
Cause it matches your eyes
Stop! the faux to be famous
Confused? youll know when youre ripe
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
youre pregnant
With all this case
Thick with money
But I lost the taste
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
youre pregnant
With all this case
Thick with money
But I lost the taste
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
song performed by by Deftones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jacky Don Tucker
(toby keith/chuck cannon)
Jacky don tucker was my daddys little brother
And at seventeen he jumped the fence
He joined a rock n roll band, got a tattoo on his hand
Granny said he never had a lick of sense
cause by the time he turned seven he was a stealin watermelons
Playin house with the girl next door
Drinkin muscadine wine by the time he was nine
Sneakin out and smokin cigarettes under the porch
He was a melon stealin
Cop-a-feelin
Daredevil fool
A do-it-anywayin
Playin hooky from school
A water tower poet class of 73
Hed say by God you better know it if youre runnin with me
cause Im skinny dippin finger flippin son of a gun
Play by the rules
Youre gonna miss all the fun
He was always drag racin and he kept the sheriff chasin
But they never caught ole jacky don
cause he was nobodys fool, the definition of cool
He even cut a donut on the courthouse lawn
He created quite a scandal that the locals couldnt handle
When he took up with the preachers baby girl
They bought a new double wide and on their wedding night
Aunt jenny went to rockin
Uncle jacky dons world
He was a melon stealin
Cop-a-feelin
Daredevil fool
A do-it-anywayin
Playin hooky from school
A water tower poet class of 73
Hed say by God you better know it if youre runnin with me
cause Im skinny dippin finger flippin son of a gun
Play by the rules
Youre gonna miss all the fun
He was a melon stealin
Cop-a-feelin
Daredevil fool
A do-it-anywayin
Playin hooky from school
A water tower poet class of 73
Hed say by God you better know it if youre runnin with me
cause Im skinny dippin finger flippin son of a gun
Play by the rules
Youre gonna miss all the fun
Play by the rules
Youre gonna miss all the fun
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doug's Peach
The Theory of Non-Exclusivity states that:
Always right exists in left
And likewise left in right.
I went outside and picked a peach,
the episcopalian of the four.
Parts were ripe and parts were wrong-
if 'wrong' is 'not as ripe'.
And if 'wrong' is 'not as ripe',
then 'ripe' is 'right' for sure.
I ate some right, then ate the wrong,
then ate what right was left:
thus proving, sure as Al's my brother,
that neither right nor left is
exclusive of the other.
poem by Douglas Scotney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cherry- Ripe
CHERRY-RIPE, ripe, ripe, I cry,
Full and fair ones; come and buy.
If so be you ask me where
They do grow, I answer: There
Where my Julia's lips do smile;
There's the land, or cherry-isle,
Whose plantations fully show
All the year where cherries grow.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Cherry Ripe
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,
Full and fair ones; come, and buy:
If so be you ask me where
They do grow? I answer, there
Where my Julia's lips do smile;--
There's the land, or cherry-isle;
Whose plantations fully show
All the year where cherries grow.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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4. Elements – Water
Water an elemental
Water a fundamental
Building block of life
Water of Life
Water of Death
Water in all religions
Water in all living things
Water in all countries
Water also used for barter
No life without water
No rife with water
No respect for water
Willful neglect of water
Water, for cooking
Water, for cleaning
Water, for drinking
Water, for living
Water, for dying
Water is the same
In all languages
Water is the same
To all living beings
poem by Anand Dixit
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After Reading Sylvia Plath's Riddle In Nine Syllables
sylvia, the elephant is inside your
tummy, you have become a melon growing and crawling in tendrils
a ponderous house
a red fruit
you have eaten a bag of green apples
and rode a train without stopping
to an exit
sylvia, i may not understand the nine syllables
inside you
for i am a man without
these syllables
sylvia i put two syllables somewhere
and it grows into three just three
there was bleeding and i saw it
i took her to the hospital and she was put into a sleep
and she was finally made to appear
clean to me
she was numb and speechless to the window panes
there was frost
and there was that bird which flew away since then
from her forehead
now, sylvia look at me
i was the man who only had three syllables
look at me in this sentence
i am a comma, i am a period.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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