It's A Weed
Greed is like a weed once planted it can forever grow without a single seed needed to be sewn.
It kills all the beautiful flowers and vegetables and takes their stead.
About impossible to kill.
Then when it comes to the great harvest theirs nothing left.
A barren waste land is all that seen for miles.
A sight completely surreal.
Defiled by this grotesque entity that bares no use to us as human beings.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Weed
There was an old woman
that planted a garden.
And in the garden
there grew a weed.
The weed grew next to
a beautiful flower.
The flower had grown
from a tiny seed.
The weed was strong
and would not bend.
The wind did blow
and it did send
the seeds from the flower
into the air.
They circled around
and landed where
the weed was growing
next to the flower.
Soon the weed was
surrounded by flowers.
It loved where it was
and looked by the hours
at all of the beautiful
colorful flowers.
The old woman who planted
the garden one day
decided that she would
make a bouquet.
She went to the garden
to cut the flowers.
But when she got there
down came the showers.
The raindrops that fell
made the weed shine
which made the old woman
change her mind.
She left them alone
in her garden and knew
that the weed belonged
with the flowers that grew.
She'd planted the flowers.
God planted the weed.
The garden was perfect.
No bouquet did she need.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Harvest For The World
All babies together
Evry one a seed
Half of us are satisfied
The other half of us in need
Loves bountiful in us
Tarnished by our greed
Oh, when will there be a harvest.. for the world?
(harvest for the world)
A nations planted
So concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, we wont wait in vain
Far too many, feelin the strain
(chorus)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest.. a harvest)
(a harvest for the world)
Dress me up for battle
When all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price
Come home with the least
And nation after nation, tuning into beasts
(chorus)
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest
When will there be.. a harvest..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hope: A worthless Virtue
Wherever you find Mankind, two plagues follow Him: War and poverty, both preventable but impossible to eradicate. The reason: greed. The sorrier of the two is poverty; war sometimes is a necessity, poverty never is.
Man is forever looking for more but always that pursuit is misdirected. He never includes his fellow human beings, only his narrow clique’s self-interests. The rest are left to fend for themselves. Often an impossible task to achieve, the result is poverty.
Once a victim of this state of being, what is left is hope- worthless hope.
The poorest are the ones who hope
They hope against (all) hope it seems.
They pray to god to help them cope
Yet fruitless as their faded dreams
They hope someday for better stead
A worthless virtue I suspect
Adding to misery instead
That propagates in that respect.
Look to the past to see their plight:
Dreaming of castles in the sky;
But that isn't all, not by a long sight:
The chance it will happen? In a pigs eye!
The “haves” are a self-centered breed
Who rarely help people in need.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Greed
Where there is a need
There is always greed
A rotten exploiting deed
That manifests with speed
When there are mouths to feed
Read between the lines and take heed!
Lurking around is an Inspiring greed
Ready to take advantage and proceed
Even when there is no need to succeed
By now it is agreed, there is always greed
Our desire for more always exceeds our needs
Hence wealth, power and greed have always been married
We always want more
Sometimes I don't know what for
I read to understand what generation of breed
Has given birth to this senseless weed
Because life is a circle of endless greed
I urgently need to know, I plead
Who planted this seed of greed to deliberately mislead?
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The Murder Of Humanity
Once there lived two friends,
human and humanity.
human was loving and caring,
while humanity spread peace and brotherhood.
under their friendship tree,
everyone was happy and merry.
in the same world lived Hate and Greed, full of sinister.
very different from all the other.
who were always jealous of human and humanity,
and they tried hard to part the friends
and throw them away in different ends.
the did succeed,
in the heart of human they planted hate-seed.
soon the seed started to rear,
and human was left with no love and care.
it turned furious towards humanity.
all their friendship woes turned into enmity.
hate and greed infected human one after the other.
and made human to commit the murder.
end of peace was marked with the murder of humanity,
in some lost corner is the grave of humanity,
now the world knows only hate, greed and enmity.
Earth's Day!
Today we celebrate Earth's Day
With plenty of joy and great concerns
For this great creation
By the Mighty One above
Is about to go back to dust,
If we don't take precautions
To save it for generations to come!
At the beginning,
Everything was dark and cold
But by divine intervention,
The light, for the first time
Came out to be enjoyed
By all human forms
Throughout the infinity of time!
The precious fresh water,
The key to our own survival
And now heavily contaminated,
Due our own negligence,
Started to separate from the land,
The very land where today
You plant the beautiful flowers
Of your colorful garden!
The Mountains as natural towers
Gave meanings to High and Low
While the Sun and Moon
Brought life and inspirations
To human kind down below...
Food was provided
By the mighty One above,
Graciously giving us fruits,
Vegetables and other
Eating types of food
That are now missing
In the weak and empty
Stomachs of our children
Throughout the World!
The air, key of life,
Filled the lungs
Of our first ancestors.
The very air we breathe
And now heavily polluted
By a powerful few
Whose have no concerns
For our future generations
But their own,
Fortune and greed!
Now, struggling to survive,
We clearly witness the events:
Wars, Starvation and deceases
Deriving from natural disasters
Enhanced by our disregard
For other human beings!
The message is quite clear,
We need a divine intervention
To save our Earth!
Earth's Day today
We 'joyfully' celebrate
When we should do it
Every single day!
Faithfully spreading the message
Of Love and Peace for always!
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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The Planted Seed
you cried because i said that i was leaving
you cried because you knew your heart was deceiving.
you took my love for granted
and in my heart, a seed you had planted.
that seed that you planted
made my love truly grow
but there was something that you did'nt know
that i had a free will, the same as you
and i knew just what to do.
i gathered my strength which
i had tucked inside
a strength which i knew to hide.
i broke those chains with which
you had me bound.
and turned my life completely around
the seed that you planted
had strengthened me,
to a point that i could see
that life with you would be misery.
so i leave you with a smile on my face
i walk away with dignity and grace.
poem by Louis Rams
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Our Marriage Is Our Garden
Our marriage is our garden.
I want our garden to be beautiful.
With lush green grass,
With fragrant and colourful flowers.
A place of solace.
A place of peace.
A place of love.
Our garden must be watered.
Not watered too much.
As that would saturate the ground.
Not watered too little.
As that would leave the plants wilted.
And our grass barren.
But regularly.
So the flowers can stand tall
It must be weeded.
It must be maintained.
It must be loved.
We will plant seeds in our garden.
For new life makes any garden more beautiful and diverse.
We can harvest the fruit trees, but our harvest is limited
If we eat all the fruit too quick,
Then we must wait until the next harvest to eat again.
If we don't pick the fruit when it is right, it will spoil.
Our harvest is for our family.
If I eat all the fruit myself, then they will starve.
If we eat too much we will get sick.
If we eat what we are supposed to, then we will be healthy.
If we do not monitor the fruit,
Then someone might eat more than their share.
If we do not stand guard in our garden,
A thief might come into the garden to steal our fruit.
The fruit for our family.
For their garden must be barren and their crops have spoiled.
Our garden will stand the test of all seasons.
As all gardens do.
Another garden will also experience the same seasons.
Just at different times.
All gardens face rain.
All gardens get sun.
It is the rain that nourishes the garden and helps it's life to grow.
But our garden must be maintained regularly.
Only artificial things require no maintenance.
The artificial has no life.
It is fake, it is plastic.
Our garden needs to be real.
So life may grow and continue to grow.
So one day our children can enjoy a garden of their own.
For them and their children.
May their garden be overflowing with life and love.
And be the most beautiful garden in the world.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Planted A Flower
I planted me a flower
Though my friends say a weed
In my garden from a forgotten seed.
So I planted it deep
And around it I hoed
So someday my flower would grow.
But my flower never came
From the sunshine or the rain
That GOD placed above its head.
And so my friends would just laugh
Every time that they would pass
My garden, my plant and I.
Gardeners were them all
As though they have been called
To bring beauty upon our sight.
And a gardener wasn't I
Just a poet in disguise
And for that reason I sat and cried.
More care to my plant I gave
And more affection to it I showed.
While praying one day my flower would grow.
And my friends would just laugh at me
When they saw me on my knees
And to my flower when they heard me speak.
To ignorance they did blame
Its a weed they would exclaim
Then they would walk away.
For a madman I must be
Trying to create a flower out of a weed
Then I would bow my head to weep.
And every night that I went to bed
I dreamt of a rainbow in my head
Which was my flower I planted with my own hands.
And every morning when I awoke
I ran to my garden, but I was torn
For my flower was still unborn.
And I could hear my friends laugh at me
Hidden behind an old oak tree
And I could see them shake their heads and walk away.
But then came one magic morning
When in my head my dreams were forming
While in my garden, my dream, had awoke.
I awoke, to gasps and jeers
I arose, to shouts and cheers
Then in my garden, I walked in bitterness and fear.
Then I saw a rainbow with a halo
I saw my friends with a child's glow
And then I heard the wind, as she softly spoke to me.
You had faith in a weed,
A weed, had faith in you.
And nature, had faith in you two.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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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 Creation Of An Absolute Nothingness
Maybe we can create the absolute zero.
In in everlasting destruction can it truly be considered of an absolute nothing?
An emptiness, A barren wasteland.
Maybe once the destruction is done.
Maybe only if it doesn't continue.
Ignoring the theories not yet truly proven.
A doubt is but a zero upon the mind.
A change upon the times.
What can we stop?
What can we prevent?
As single entity of being?
As a shadow of many important existences.
Why do we think we're so great?
Come on now watch as we beat nature at her own game.
But have we really?
Delaying tactics are just not the same.
Oh planner of the mighty plan.
Oh foreseers of the future please make your prediction fourth right.
Seeing this through to my end in this life I have been given.
Whether we live on long after I'm gone only time will tell.
But, indeed I do hope as human beings we do well.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Planned Obsolescence
The nation of greed
Manifest the nation of need
The hand that once fed us
Has planted the seed
It has started to grow
Taking us whole
Binds us to the blind man’s path
The nation of greed
Finds its need
Squeezing our sin so tightly
Golden reins with diamond veins
Upon a sleight of silver bones
Make your own choice
The box is black
Lock it, or pick it
Jack it, who cares
Pandora’s recession
Only choose once
So what will it be
The land of the free
Or the home of the need
poem by Christian Connor Schwantes
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My Wish Is For A Perfect World
The World might well be different if religion and patriotism
died
And if mistrust and greed died with them there would be peace World wide
But with these four still prevalent what hope for harmony
And what hope for love and tolerance for all humanity.
That the clergy bless the troops for war seems hard to understand
To go and throw their lives away for religion and land
That man should kill his fellow man not written in God's will
The fifth commandment clearly state the words 'thou shalt not kill'.
Intolerance, greed and mistrust all of these go side by side
With lust for land and religion and patriotic pride
All these have given rise to wars and yet we've failed to see
The mistakes our fore fathers made nor learnt from history
I am not condemning religion in case you get me wrong
And I have great respect for those who worship God in song
But when religion lead men to war 'tis there the wrong come
in
For wars are caused by ignorance where winners cannot win.
And as for patriotism that has the strangest ring
Of the noble men who died in war the ballad maker sing
They thought it the great sacrifice to give their lives for land
But the most who lived to reap the gain never took gun in hand.
And as for greed and mistrust of those what can one say?
For human self enlightenment I hope to see the day
For all human beings have good in them or so 'twould seem that way
But some can't reach their higher self and somehow go astray
It's up to every individual to live good as they can
To make this world a better world for family of man
To learn more about tolerance and live in harmony
My wish is for a perfect world but that may never be
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Little Tree
A very faithful farmer,
Planted a small seed,
Where in a distant field,
It grew into a tree.
This tree had leaves of laughter,
As it rustled in the wind,
Its sound of many whispers,
Were voices of many friends.
Its branches were far reaching,
Its limbs, like little hands,
That touched the lives of many,
As it grew upon the land.
Its flowers bloomed in sunshine,
-They were countless little smiles,
That offered joy to others,
If but only for a while.
For the Farmer who was helping,
His little tree grow tall,
Knew of a better orchard,
The best one of them all.
Se he placed His hands around the tree,
And lifted it with care,
He took it to an orchard,
Where He himself was near.
The tree had all the sunshine,
Its leaves were there to stay,
Its flowers bloomed in happiness,
Every single day.
The Farmer loved the little tree,
Far more than people knew,
Now it lives forever,
In our hearts and Heaven too.
-In loving memory of Charles McMichael
poem by Jean Penner
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My thoughts on Human will,
My thoughts on Human will,
Human will,
This inestimable ability,
Simple truth that you ignore,
Thanks for my friendly bard men,
For their great comments,
Instinctive inspiration,
I perceive that we have an understanding,
But to waste a single creeping creature,
We all human,
I love the human will,
That our love hast that understanding,
No undermining,
Thanks Mette Møller for your inspiration,
Goldy locks for making me inspired,
And many other poetic minstrels,
I love writing with unfeigned verses,
Then I think sharing truth is much worthied,
Than good in disguise,
Let’s be able to have a new understanding,
That we can surpass the old foolishness of human beings,
That we kill,
That we destroy,
That we steal,
Think of another beauty of a more commandment,
Stop sleeping humanity,
Lot’s hast to be done.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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Embryonic Homicide
Life is same, no matter young or old;
Life is precious, more than silver, gold;
Life isn’t commodity that is sold;
Life’s from God, not from this nasty world!
Alike is life in children and adults;
Alike is life ‘in utero’, ‘ex womb’;
Alike is life of born and that unborn;
All human lives are equal before God.
All human beings are in God’s semblance;
Each body gets a soul that everlasts;
The love of God is shown to all creatures;
The Life-Giver alone can take back life!
The Embryo has life that’s God-destined;
The Embryo was formed by love of God;
The Embryo must grow by divine Word;
The Embryo has soul like anyone!
Why kill the embryo for its small parts?
Why destroy one life to save another?
Why treat the embryo with great disdain?
Why murder lives in womb for sake of born?
The embryo is healthy, not diseased;
The embryo is living, not deceased;
The embryo is child, awaiting birth;
The embryo is human too and worth!
No beast kills babies that are still unborn;
The world demands kindness to animals;
Why not protect the human lives unborn?
Preserve the dignity of life in womb!
Could God watch human lives desecrated?
Would God spare merciless human beings?
The embryonic life is life as well;
All ruthless murderers shall land in hell!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-9-2009
poem by John Celes
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A Dream Of Evolution....
shall a seed be
a seed forever?
do you not dream
someday that it shall
be planted
so that it can sprout
and grow
and then finally see
its flower
and fruit?
must the flower and fruit
be just the same
like the rest of the histories of
the other seeds
of their own form and kind?
must i hope
for an evolution
a seed turning
into a bee
a bee into
a butterfly into wind
into star?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Jim Corbett
Jim Corbett great stories of maneaters told
For some tigers become maneaters when they grow old
For a frail or injured tiger a Human Being is easier prey
But for killing a Human a tiger with his or her life has to pay.
To a tiger a Human Being is something it can eat
As a tiger is a meat eater so it needs meat
A Human Being or a buffalo to him the same
It kills because it has to without remorse or shame.
Jim Corbett who killed many a maneater has a park in India named in his name
And his stories of hunting maneaters they brought him great fame
But tigers only kill because they have a need to
And the tiger to it's nature is only being true.
Jim Corbett wrote of man eating tigers and of how he tracked them down
And his stories have earned him a place in renown
But for the most part a tiger has to be either very old or ill
Before a Human Being it will bother to kill.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Harvest For The World
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
When will there be a harvest for all the people
When will there be a harvest for all the world
Harvest For The World
All babies together, everyone a seed
Half of us are satisfied, half of us in need
Love's bountiful in us, tarnished by our greed
When will there be a harvest for the world
A nation planted, so concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, greater grows the pain
And far too many feelin' the strain
When will there be a harvest for the world
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
Gather everyone, gather all together
Overlooking none, hopin' life gets better for the world
Dress me up for battle, when all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price, come home with the least
Nation after nation, turning into beast
When will there be a harvest for the world
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The rose that bares no thorn
The rose that bares no thorn
~
How beautiful and pure
How sweetly kind and innocent
How loving to look upon
The rose that bares no thorn
Gentle to the tender touch
Pleasing to the hearts own eye
Of all that is beautiful
Is seen and known with joy
Seasoned into memory
To grow and flower once more
Let love be known and named
Then kept forevermore
As natural as the morning dew
So still, sweet and innocent
Never to cut or hurt
The rose that bares no thorn
Is a love in full bloom
poem by Matthew Holloway
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