Weather means more when you have a garden. There's nothing like listening to a shower and thinking how it is soaking in around your green beans.
quote by Marcelene Cox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In A Can
sitting in my old chair
on the porch breaking
green beans... waiting
on the storm.
wind whips through the trees,
a streak of lightning, occasional
thunder... breaking beans.
thinking about my grandparents,
working down at the mill...
farming, grew four gardens...
cows, pigs, chickens, and
turkeys...
no one ever went hungry
there... no one around them
went hungry...
there was always food to eat,
and work to be done....
but that day has come and gone....
now we work on computers,
or dont work at all....
and most young people think
chickens come from the meat
section... and...
green beans come in a can....
no wonder we're hungry!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Was Kermit a Vegen?
Chasity Erbaugh has had a sight to be seen.
She had purchased frozen green beans at the Wal-Mart in Tyler, Texas.
A Great Value Brand, by name, but appeared to be a Surely Shock Brand,
When she brought it home.
After microwaving the frozen green beans to feed her children,
She noticed peculiar that didn’t look like bean,
Chasity came across a legless frog that was green.
Catfish and frog legs are very popular in local restaurants around here,
And China too!
Maybe the green beans and the processing of frog legs were at the same location?
Anyway, was this frog related to Kermit? Was he a vegen?
Chasity brought this up to the management of her local Wal-Mart,
They, in turn, delightfully handed a $1.00 coupon off her next bag of frozen green beans.
How thoughtful is that?
How so disgusting?
So Wal-Mart,
The company is thinking about getting into the marriage wedding and reception business,
After which, the couple will have kids to be poisoned by the lead content in toys,
Manufactured in China,
Most likely the couple will have pet dog, which can poisoned by the dog food,
That was made in China.
To the human part, Wal-Mart will provide a clinic for getting rid of illness.
Eye doctors, pretty soon dentists, and maybe vets.
From cradle to the grave, what fun, what bliss.
8-17-09
poem by Joe Rosochacki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rainbow Shower
Hey rainbow shower, rainbow shower
shower on me, shower on me..
Pick a pink flower, a shy pink flower
and shower on me, shower on me
Hey rainbow shower, I m lost in a hey
Sprinkle the purple orchids n roses
and take me to the bay, oh rainbow shower...
just flower on me, flower on me..
Hey rainbow shower, drench me with colors
cozy blues green gold and yellows,
sparkle the light with shades bright
I m crazy after you, my rainbow shower...
Hey rainbow shower, rainbow shower
Can you dance wid me, yaa dance wid me
Play the tunes of the skies, big grey blues n wise
oh rainbow shower, my rainbow shower! !
poem by Sanjay Kamlakar
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Will Remain...
get away...
from the rat race
we call society...
a small house
next to the woods,
with a big garden spot.
green beans, corn, and tomatoes,
can and put back.
stack firewood in neat stacks,
chickens, maybe a cow.
it's gonna fall!
we have reached the breaking point.
go back to what matters.
family, spirit, neighbors...
living simple means free!
the kingdom of oil implodes!
only the kingdom of the heart
will remain!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I Plucked A Rose From A Garden Green......
By Murtaza Abt
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
Of beauty never felt or seen,
Hoping that it would never wilt,
And always be as always been.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
with a happy blissful heart,
And promised i would hold it tight,
And never would we part.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
But little did i know,
That not in endless love and care,
But gardens do they grow.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And took it home with me,
But little did it stay the way,
The way t'was meant to be.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to grieve,
Over gardens green and meadows lush,
As it was sad to leave.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to wilt,
And wither in that unknown land,
it filled my heart with guilt.
I plucked a rose from a garden green,
And it began to die,
For happiness i had only asked,
But i began to cry.
....................................
I have p L ucked y O u from a garden green,
Your beauty i VE never felt or seen,
Hoping that YOU will never wilt,
And always be as always been.
09/Nov/09
poem by Murtaza Abt
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My plants
My plants
are eaten
by all kinds of vermin.
There are golden beetles
that reaps
the leaves of the beans,
brown buzzing beetles turning in the air
around the tomatoes,
snails that can’t wait
and demolish the leaves
of beans, spinach
and tomatoes.
Indian miners
that feast in their beaks
as if every thing belongs to them.
Even poison that I spread out
doesn’t help a bit
and plants from Mrs. Roberts
that should keep such things in check
grows rampant
and after rains
there are weeds
everywhere,
as if my garden
was prepared only for them.
Even one of the taps breaks
causing water to spray without end
and I have trouble
to bind it down
and have to go to Builders
to get a new one
and this garden man gets fed up
and wants to pull
all of the vegetables out
one by one
and put something else
like flowers into that ground,
until my darling says:
“thank you for the beans,
spinach, carrots and tomatoes
that you placed in the bowls,
can I get a bit of parsley
to put in the salad? ”
poem by Gert Strydom
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When [competitors are] in the shower in the morning, they're thinking about how they're going to get ahead of one of their top competitors. Here in the shower, we're thinking about how we are going to invent something on behalf of a customer.
quote by Jeff Bezos
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Where Were You?
where were you when
i needed you?
i spilled some lima beans in my bed
and my wife shall gather them all to me
and i ask her
how many are these beans specifically
it will take her time
i spilled ketsup in my white shirt
and my wife will have to clean it for me
she will wash it
with soap and water and dry it in the sun
it will take her time
so, let me tell you i am thinking of you
while she picks the lima beans and counts them
in specific numbers
so let me tell you that i am thinking of you
when she washes my clothes and make them
all clean for me
so i will look like a decent man
let me tell frankly that i think of you while we make love
you are the bulb lighting in the darkness of my mind
i am so unkind
i am thinking of you
where were you when i needed you?
you are always in my mind.
that is your place, only in my mind
my wife is beside me.
she is concrete love to me.
your place is only in my mind
and you
cannot touch me.
like a cloud you will be here for the meantime
the right wind comes
and drifts you away
and you will no longer be in my mind
i guess things will turn out right
when the right wind comes along.
you are just a blue, ephemeral cloud.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Much More Than You
Much more than greeny looks the sea in your eye,
Much more than salty are your eyes in its waves,
Much more than greeny are leaves floating on high
In green waves, green eyes searched the beauty of aves.
Much more than you means love to my eyes of keen,
Much more than love means the green of your sad tear,
Much more than sadness means the beauty of green,
Much more than green means your life for me, my dear.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Golden Autumn Day
Well I heard the bells ringing, I was thinking about winning
In this God forsaken place
When my confidence was well, then I tripped and I felt
Right flat on my face
Now Im standing erect, and I feel like coming back
And the sun is shining gold
Put a smile on my face, get back in the human race
And get on with the show
And Im taking in the indian summer
And Im soaking it up in my mind
And Im pretending that its paradise
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day
On a golden autumn day, an a golden autumn day
In the wee midnight hour I was parking my car
In this dimly lit town,
I was attacked by two thugs, who took me for a mug
And shoved me down on the ground
And they pulled out a knife, and I fought my way up
As they scarpered from the scene
Well this is no new york street, and theres no bobby on the beat
And things aint just what they seem
And Im taking in the indian summer
And Im soaking it up in my mind
And Im pretending that its paradise
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day
On a golden autumn day, an a golden autumn day
Who would think this could happen in a city like this
Among blakes green and pleasant hills,
And we must remember as we go through september
Among these dark satanic mills
If theres such a thing as justice I could take them out and flog them
In the nearest green field
And it might be a lesson to the bleeders of the system
In this whole society
And Im taking in the indian summer
And Im soaking it up in my mind
And Im pretending like its paradise
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day, golden autumn day ...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's No 'I' In Team
Well I can't regret,
can't you just forget it?
I started something I couldn't finish
And if we go down,
we go down together
best friends means,
well best friends means
And I've got a twenty-dollar bill
that says you're up late night starting
fist fights versus fences in your backyard
Wearing your black eye like a badge of honor
Soaking in sympathy
from friends who never loved you
nearly half as much as me
Broken down in bars and bathrooms
All I did was what I had to
Don't believe me when I tell you
it's just what anyone would do
Take the time to talk about it
Think a lot and live without it
Don't believe me when I tell you
it's something unforgivable...ohoh
Well I can't regret,
can't you just forget it?
I started something I couldn't finish
If we go down,
we go down together
best friends means,
well best friends means
You never knew
well i never told you...
Everything I know about breaking hearts
I learned from you, it's true
I've never done it with the style and grace you have
But I've made long term plans
based on these mistakes
Broken down in bars and bathrooms
All I did was what I had to
Don't believe me when I tell you
it's just what anyone would do
Take the time to talk about it
Think a lot and live without it
Don't believe me when I tell you
it's something unforgivable
Is this what you call tact?
I swear you're as subtle as a brick in the small of my back
so let's end this call,
and end this conversation
there's nothing worse...
(that's right he said, that's right he said it)
I swear, you have no idea
The jealousy that became me thinking
(that's right he said)
that you always had it way too easy
Broken down in bars and bathrooms
All I did was what I had to
Don't believe me when I tell you
it's just what anyone would do
Take the time to talk about it
Think a lot and live without it
Don't believe me when I tell you
it's something unforgivable
Best friends means I pulled the trigger
Best friends means you get what you deserve
Best friends means I pulled the trigger
Best friends means you get what you deserve
Best friends means I pulled the trigger
Best friends means you get what you deserve
Best friends means I pulled the trigger
Best friends means you get what you deserve
Best friends means I pulled the trigger
Best friends means you get what you deserve
Best friends means I pulled the trigger!!!
Best friends means you get what you deserve!!!
song performed by by Taking Back Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Young Man
(in answer to Elisabeth Eybers)
Under the shower her man is soaking wet
where she wraps her arms around him
and around him water splashes.
His skin is soft under her hands,
she washes down his spine
and she almost slips, are against him
and the floor of the shower is slippery
when she moves still closer to him.
Under the shower her man is soaking wet
and he smiles softly with white shining teeth,
she can feel his muscles tightening with power,
she washes down his spine
and when she slips, she has to move her grip on him,
with water flowing over both of them
and around him water splashes.
and he stops her from falling, grabs her with power
and she washes down his upper leg,
she can feel his muscles tightening with power
and the floor is slippery but flat
and she wonders from where his manly power comes?
Under the shower her man is soaking wet
and she washes him as low as every heel,
her fingers grips
and she washes down his upper leg
and his chest hairs are smudged black
and his gaze is full of lust without any suspicion
and around him water splashes.
over his arms, his strong rib cage
She sees his member tightening, totally set
her fingers grips
where suddenly takes him
looking at him with conceit.
Under the shower her man is soaking wet
and around him water splashes
and his smile almost swallows her and it’s bold,
his skin is soft under her hands,
she sees his member tightening, totally set
and she almost slips, are against him.
[Reference: Jong seun (Young boy) by Elisabeth Eybers.]
“Tog, onvolkome afgerond,
hoe sal die lewe hom nog wond:
in sy Achilleskern vind
hy geen beskutting – man of kind:
geheg aan die benedebuik
waar blink haarrankies reeds ontluik,
deuraar, teer soos ’n ooglid, sag
soos murg, hang weerloos die geslag.”
My translation:
“Still, not yet rounded off,
how life will still wound him:
in his Achilles-core
he finds no cover – man or child
attached to the lower abdomen
where shining hair-sprouts are already unfolding
veined, tender like an eyelid, soft
like marrow, the sex hangs defenceless.”]
poem by Gert Strydom
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My Childhood Garden
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden
poem by Danielle Eager
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The Garden
I know a garden like a child,
Clean and new-washed and reconciled.
It grows its own sweet way, yet still
Has guidance of some tender will
That clips, confines, its wilder mood
And makes it happy, being good.
Around the lordly mountains stand,
For this is an enchanted land,
As though their splendours stood to grace
This little lovely garden place,
Looking with wise and keeping eyes
Upon the garden sanctities.
Box borders edge each little bed,
Paths narrow for a child to tread
Divide the kitchen garden, dear
And sweet with musk and lavender,
And water-mints and beans in bloom.
Be sure the honeybee's at home.
How should I tell in a sweet list
Of beauties, rose and amethyst;
The little water-garden cool
On sultry days, and beautiful
The wall-garden, the shade, the sun,
Since they are lovely, every one.
Hot honey of the pines is sweet,
And when the day's at three o'clock heat
A winding walk will you invite
To a new garden out of sight.
And a green seat is set so near
The sluggish, stealing backwater.
The Spirit of the garden plays
At hide-and-seek an hundred ways
And when you've captured her, she will
Elude you, calling backward still,
A silver echo -- a sweet child,
Demure and lovesome, gay and wild.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Much More Than Love
Much more than green looks the sea in your twinkling eye,
Much more than salty are your eyes in the sea transgress,
Much more than greeny are leaves floating on waves to die,
In greeny waves, greeny eyes searched the beauty of loneliness.
Much more than you means your love to my eyes of keen,
Much more than love means the green of your sad tear,
Much more than sadness means the beauty of your green,
Much more than green means your life for me, my dear.
Dedicated to Alfred Lord Tennyson.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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You Are In My Silence
Cold as death that's what silence means
Numb and dark always sad scenes
But when you came all the closed garden gates
Are filled with music the sadness melts.
Now I find refuge and that is silence
I find a friend I guess in calmness
You house my thoughts if I don't talk
I paint a smile even as I walk.
My silence means only one reason
Busying myself with only one person
Thinking in the morning or in the afternoon
I even feel like a weightless balloon.
You are in my silence can't you listen
I don't want to think there are things I'm missing
It must be magic It might be love
Thinking 'bout it makes a quick throb.
You are in my silence as natural as I breathe
Like the stars in the sky and the letters in my sheets
You appear in my thoughts in every waking moment
I love thinking of you, always, I'll keep silent.
poem by Naida Supnet
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God, love and autumn
While I was driving to my office
I was thinking of you
While I was listening to Elton John in my car
I was thinking of you
While I was driving to gas station
I was thinking of you
While I was filling her up
I was thinking of you
While I was parking my car in our parking place
I was thinking of you
While I was taking the lift
To the third floor
I was thinking of you
While I was knocking the door knocker
I was thinking of making love with you
As the door opened
We were one!
poem by Framarz Bagheri
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Motive
The green garden and the blue lover!
The love of your blues over the flowers;
But wash yourself separately for the first time.
Look beyond personality and learn a lot,
For the first time can change many things!
And like your sweet muse in the green garden.
Measure yourself by the things you value in this life,
For there is a difference between abuse and discipline;
And like the motive of your love in this garden.
The right choice is now with your integrity,
So do make sure that he or she is a moral person;
And like the muse of your sweet love in the green garden.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I'll Be Thinking Of You
I’ll be thinking of you
In all the hustle of Christmas day
I’ll be thinking of you in all I do or say.
I’ll be thinking of you
Each time a song is sung
I’ll think of you each time
A Christmas bell is rung.
I’ll be thinking of you
In this hot Texas weather
I’ll be thinking of you
And wishing we were together.
I’ll be thinking of you each time
I hear “A Blue Christmas” being played
I’ll be thinking of you
When new Christmas memories are being made.
I’ll be thinking of you when I read
About how our Saviour came
And because of that first Christmas night long ago
Our lives will never be the same.
I’ll be thinking of you
In the glow of the Christmas lights
And I’ll be hoping and praying
You have a Christmas of white.
I’ll be thinking of you
Each time I see an angel on a tree
And I’ll thank God he sent
Someone special, like you, to me.
poem by Valerie Christine Anderson
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Jelly Beans
I love my jelly beans
I even love machines
That make my jelly beans
Red, pink, purple, and blue
I will all chew
If only you knew
I'd even eat them out of my shoe
One bean, two beans, three beans, a million
I'd even eat one hundred billion
I'd eat them non stop
I'd eat them right in the candy shop
I'd eat them until my tummy would pop
You can never have to many
I never heard of anyone that didn't have any
People always have plenty
Eat until I don't have anymore
Always wish I had some more...
...Back to my candy drawer
poem by Claude Davis III
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