If you allow one single germ, one single seed of slavery to remain in the soil of America... that germ will spring up, that noxious weed will thrive, and again stifle the growth, wither the leaves, blast the flowers and poison the fair fruits of freedom.
quote by Ernestine L. Rose

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Single Is Fair
Single
I am single
Question of double
Does not arise.
I am single
Only single.
Single sun
Single moon
Single earth
Single air
Single sky
Sngle water
Single fire
Single soul
Single body
All are there
All are fair.
Single is single
Single is beautiful
Single is fair.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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Mrs. Sibley
The secret of the stars, -- gravitation.
The secret of the earth, -- layers of rock.
The secret of the soil, -- to receive seed.
The secret of the seed, -- the germ.
The secret of man, -- the sower.
The secret of woman, -- the soil.
My secret: Under a mound that you shall never find.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters

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The Germ
A mighty creature is the germ,
Though smaller than the pachyderm.
His customary dwelling place
Is deep within the human race.
His childish pride he often pleases
By giving people strange diseases.
Do you, my poppet, feel infirm?
You probably contain a germ.
poem by Ogden Nash

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To An English Friend
THE seed that wasteful autumn cast
To waver on its stormy blast,
Long o'er the wintry desert tost,
Its living germ has never lost.
Dropped by the weary tempest's wing,
It feels the kindling ray of spring,
And, starting from its dream of death,
Pours on the air its perfumed breath.
So, parted by the rolling flood,
The love that springs from common blood
Needs but a single sunlit hour
Of mingling smiles to bud and flower;
Unharmed its slumbering life has flown,
From shore to shore, from zone to zone,
Where summer's falling roses stain
The tepid waves of Pontchartrain,
Or where the lichen creeps below
Katahdin's wreaths of whirling snow.
Though fiery sun and stiffening cold
May change the fair ancestral mould,
No winter chills, no summer drains
The life-blood drawn from English veins,
Still bearing wheresoe'er it flows
The love that with its fountain rose,
Unchanged by space, unwronged by time,
From age to age, from clime to clime!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes

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Growth itself contains the germ of happiness.
quote by Pearl S. Buck

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Is Brown!
The colour of Autumn is brown
Like the leaves of Spring are crown!
The colour of Winter is white
Like the Summer heat at its height!
Falling dry leaves are symbol of Autumn
After flowers of Spring with bees hum!
Autumn is the symbol of wisdom ever
After rich growth of fruits in Spring sure!
Rain in Autumn is joyful as in heaven
Just as for the birds trees are haven!
Autumn ever denotes mental maturity
Just as fully grown flowers of beauty!
poem by Ramesh T A

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Ambition is the germ from which all growth of nobleness proceeds.
quote by Oscar Wilde

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unity One
A single heartbeat reveals the whole state,
A single entity effects the whole system;
A voice can make millions move,
A single revolution can renew the whole world;
Freedom from corruption
Freedom from war
Freedom from discrimination
Freedom from all that is anti-human
If you love your freedom,
You will respect others' freedom too;
If you enjoy your rights,
You will want others to enjoy theirs;
If you want others to be right,
Get yourself right first;
Stand up for what's right,
And the whole world will join you.
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE

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Single Day
Not a single day goes by..........
Where she is not in his thoughts
Not a single day goes by..........
Where his heart does not feel
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he does not want to reach out
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he dreams of his love for her
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he does not dream of kissing her
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he does not dream of holding her
Not a single day goes by..........
Where he does not ask. Why?
Not a single day goes by..........
Where she is not his first thought on waking.
Not a single day goes by..........
Where she is not his last thought before sleeping.
Not a single day goes by..........
RG/NB
poem by Robert Green

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Seed, Qou Vadis?
seed falling on the ground
brought by a night bird
wet by the rain of dusk
you have no choice
but to crack your hard covering
and then grow
some roots and leaves
in time's blessing
some flowers
then fruits
then the silence of the wilting
follows
to be back into a seed again
eaten by this night bird
and thrown back
to a distant soil
seed,
you must begin
your cycle again
for what choice do you have?
the night bird does not
even know
and the soil simply receives you
and the rain of the dusk
simply wets you
and they do not even know
what & why
they are doing all these
this is the cycle
of the seed of life
and wilting and death
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Best Things dwell out of Sight
998
Best Things dwell out of Sight
The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought.
Most shun the Public Air
Legitimate, and Rare—
The Capsule of the Wind
The Capsule of the Mind
Exhibit here, as doth a Burr—
Germ's Germ be where?
poem by Emily Dickinson

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Autumn
So still—so still! Only the endless sighing
Of sad Æolian harp-notes overhead;
Only the soft mass-music for the dying;
Only the requiem for the newly dead!
So strangely dim!—the grey mist on the heather,
The chill cloud-twilight in the wind-stripped bowers,
Where gold and scarlet sunlights lay together
On harvest fruit and summer wealth of flowers.
So empty now!—only the dead leaves sifting
The dead brown berries underneath the trees;
Only my fair dead treasures idly drifting
About my footsteps in the autumn breeze.
All over now! No flowers that must be tended
Are left to grow upon the open plain;
No fruits to ripen; for the harvest's ended—
There's no more need for either sun or rain.
The infinite hope, the boundless, strong endeavour,
The love and joy I never thought to sum,
The precious things that were to last for ever—
All gather'd now, and nothing more to come!
Only the shroud of snow, the white star-tapers,
The passionate storm-winds, wailing in the air;
Only the icy rain and tearful vapours,
Only the winter darkness of despair!
* * * * *
So still, so sweet! with tender breezes blowing
Amongst the hills and o'er the Lowland sod,
And golden drifts of dead leaves softly strowing
The seed-graves hollow'd by the hands of God.
So grey and calm! the crimson glory faded
From this low sky, pale blue and purple-barred—
This placid sea, with steel and silver shaded—
This fair earth, now with autumn furrows scarred.
In the decay such chasten'd beauty blending—
Beauty late-born of peace, and hope, and rest,
As in a saintly life when near the ending,
When all its strife and labour has been blest.
The harvest-time is past. But there remaineth
The well-stored treasure-house—the hidden seed
That dead leaves help to nourish, which containeth
The germ of a new life that's life indeed.
poem by Ada Cambridge

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Only Leaves!
Will there be fruits without flowers?
Will there be flowers without leaves?
But in my garden only leaves grow
Without flowers and fruits ever!
Selfish growth will mar healthy society!
It will be like westward rush for gold
Where everyone fights with gun to kill
One another along with joy and fun ever!
Competition sans cooperation kills joy!
Animal lust cannot sustain divine love
Making joy bloom as flowers in garden
To make joy rule life forever in bliss!
Life sans good company as desert sans oasis is
Stock piling of wealth sans none to share joy!
poem by Ramesh T A

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A Single Black Rose
A single Black Rose to turn the tide
A single Black Rose to make one die
A single Black Rose to ensnare the soul
A single Black Rose to widen that hole
A single Black Rose to melt the heart
A single Black Rose to force a start
A single Black Rose to entwine the bodies
A single Black Rose to dictate the deaths of these
A single Black Rose to lie upon her breast
A single Black Rose to stop the tears from soaking his vest
A single Black Rose to mourn this memory
A single Black Rose to become a plot in this cemetery
A single Black Rose to take a life
A single Black Rose to end his strife.
(8/21/2007)
poem by Michael Koelliker

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Puritanism, in whatever expression, is a poisonous germ. On the surface everything may look strong and vigorous; yet the poison works its way persistently, until the entire fabric is doomed.
quote by Emma Goldman

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Silence Shall Be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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84
my silence shall be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Sexy Single
All my life I've tried to find
A love to give me piece of mind
And I, I looked into your eyes
Captivated by your wicked smile
I was mesmerized there
for a while or two
But what's a girl gonna do?
Oh I lay in my bed
with your stupid face in my head
Just another piece in my life
Now I'm a sexy single
Sexy single that's OK
I'm living on my own
And I'm feeling the way I do
Like a sexy single
Sexy single
Birds of a feather
We flock together
Like leaves on a tree
We were meant to be in love
I guess it was just a dream
Oh I lay in my bed
with your stupid face in my head
Just another piece in my life
Sexy single
Sexy single that's OK
I'm living on my own in my special way
Like a sexy single
Sexy single
I'm sexy single
Sexy single
Sexy single
I said I'm living on my own
And feeling the way I do
When I'm not with you
I said I'm sexy single
That's OK
Living on my own
And feeling the way I do
I said when I'm not with you
Sexy single that's OK
I'm living on my own in my special way
Like a sexy single
Sexy single
song performed by by Anastacia

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Planting African Marigolds (Cavatina Sequence)
Under the summer sun's harsh glare I hoed
and I weeded,
to and fro I planted the seed in rows,
flowers I needed
to like their mother grow almost waist high
but unheeded
of all my efforts not a single one
appeared as the soil turned to stone.
Some more seeds I harvested from dried buds
as spring came on,
some the weavers might as their food devour,
they may be gone
with the whispering churning rampant wind
but some alone
would burst through the earth, would no season mar,
like blazing flaming yellow and red stars.
poem by Gert Strydom

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The Golden Hole
I am beside the river of love,
And of a wondrous marriage to swing my muse;
But of the joy like the flowers to forth a fairer hue.
The niddle's eye takes a camel through,
Far from the sacred shore i stand;
But while i was very sad,
The Golden Hole was there as my hope.
I love my wife and my children,
But let us give praise to the Creator;
Like the tree with the golden hair.
As far as eyes could see and the nose could smell,
For my share of the wine is over the cliff;
And out of the night,
This water from the river is spent and gone.
The moon was very bright on The Golden Hole,
And that germ of kindness will be my hope;
For my old age calls her love to me,
And like the one who does his duty by himself.
That germ of kindness in this hole,
Of the garden of herbs and fruits;
And out of the full heart and the boundless gratitude,
For this Golden Hole is all my hope.
Come and see this hole,
Like the working bee in blossom-dust;
And there is a thing in my mind to say,
But women are so quick to understand.
Fearing the lazy gossip of the port,
For by the river side i stayed and watched;
like a figure seen in the early dawn.
In The Golden Hole,
As a vision of a dream;
But i have loved you longer than you know.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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