Now I ask you to Pick Me
Look not at wilted garden were
roses and gardenias once grew-
that infurtle place were fresh
firm fruits once flowed and
unmarked cherries hung untouched.
Now take a look at your golden crop
ripen to pick and happy as a lark
singing and dancing all the sun long;
with all this time we can play.
A wish race through mind...
will you pick me?
Almedia S. Knight ASK
May 3,2008
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Time Tells Time' 2 of 2 of the original
Your mirror is telling you that you’re a beautiful…
Listen to it, not like me, who tried not to hear
It reflects a face as fresh as a recently cut rose
Do not look for wrinkles
Admire the shining stars
Do ponder past moons, then
Anticipate all moons ahead
My dear, distance before is not far back…
So near you can smell sweet- cut summer grass,
Laugh at your children ringing around roses,
and help fill their pockets with poses
Fall trees in back yard stand barren
Just you stand tall to bear all
Just keep in mind the golden rule
Your golden years will happen
Dear daughter, waste not time on bygones
Just make right that you think went wrong
(Dedicated to my daughter Heather L. Knight:
A juxtaposition of the original: Times Tells Time)
Almedia S Knight (ASK)
September 22,2009
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Garden Center
There she sits in the midst of my garden
beneath the roses and poses;
delighting in the daffodils like those on the hill.
The sun opened four eyes-
colorful tulips and her brown eyes
The sun just opened before my eyes.
Oh my, what a chore to reach the core!
Look at her hoeing and weeding,
flinging sweat from her brow;
to behold the beauty within.
Just clear the “stuff”-
hurts and pains;
blames and shames;
cruses and lies;
chameleonic righteous
and their exaggerated colors!
Destroy the lies, then
bury them in a sand hole.
only in her rich garden flowers grow
look at how she takes great pleasure
in tending her garden and share
the fruits of her labor.
Almedia S. Knight or ASK
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pick A Fight
I can't be happy without you
You can't be happy without me
Still you always wanna pick a fight now
You say it's written in the stars
Some psychic read it in my cards
Still you always wanna pick a fight with me
You say that I'm the only one
The one you're looking for
Try and keep a straight face when you laugh
You talk to me like I'm a saint
But all your friends just say
We have been so over for some time
And I know that you had the best intentions for me
I know that what you're saying is goodbye
I can't be happy without you
You can't be happy without me
Still you always wanna pick a fight now
You say it's written in the stars
Some psychic read it in my cards
Still you always wanna pick a fight with me
You say you changed your mind again
You don't know how you feel
Give me some more time is what you say
You wanna use me like a toy
That you get bored with
Now you wanna store me far away
And I know that you had the best intentions for me
I know that what you're saying is goodbye...goodbye
I can't be happy without you
You can't be happy without me
Still you always wanna pick a fight now
You say it's written in the stars
Some psychic read it in my cards
Still you always wanna pick a fight with me
I can't be happy without you
I can't be happy without me
Still you always wanna pick a fight with me
I can't be happy without you
I can't be happy without me
Still you always wanna pick a fight with me
You always say what you don't mean
You always say the things that hurt me
Why do you pick a fight with me?
You always say what you don't mean
You always say the things that hurt me
Why do you pick a fight
Why do you pick a fight
You always pick a fight with me
song performed by by Goldfinger from Stomping Ground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Valentine
He waited.
He waited...
But waited too long.
It was unexpected-
The debris was everywhere-
His hope.
He cried till he laughed...
Lonely laughter-
Roses wilted.
His sanity wilted.
His love wilted...
Wind howls...
Rain mourns...
Thunder moans from grief...
Lightning shows sadness...
The sight of heart-shaped balloons,
Teddy bears, chocolate boxes,
Fresh roses-
He leaped off into peace of mind.
poem by Eon Ezkiel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Should Be The Kindness That Counts
i like it here
where kindness is put like a basket
full of fruits
where you pick one and taste
one and say
this fruit is sweet, and juicy and luscious
and then not to be outdone
you put some red & white roses
beside a basket and some
daffodils and colored daisies
and i say
oh! how beautiful have the fruits
become
because of the flowers!
i like it here
on friendly air
and sunny skies and singing birds
it is here
where kindness begets kindness
where love begets love
where everyone braces for the race of happiness
and never
violence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Books
Books take me to a place like no other
When I'm reading no one else madders
All my problems go away and it's just my books and me.
Books I like that word but when I read
My mom and dad and all my brothers and sisters go away
And I'm left there with no one but a book.
And then I pick it up and the word isn't so empty any more
It's full again. Like when you're a kid and your mom or dad
Come home after a long trip without you and you missed them
And then you're crying, laughing and happy all at the same time.
That how I get with a book I just found.
Happy because it's by my favorite Author but yet sad because
The book ended with questions still in my head.
And laughing because it was funny at one point in the book.
I love that felling when I pick up a book.
How do you fell when you pick up a book?
Happy, sad, a funny felling? You tell me please come on now don't be shy.
poem by Alley Rodriguez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pick It Up Or Be Gone
Pick it up or be gone.
What's given.
Pick it up or be gone.
What's there.
Pick it up or be gone.
The steak.
Or the rake.
Or the keys,
To open the gate!
Now...
Pick it up or be gone.
What's given.
Pick it up or be gone.
What's there.
Pick it up or be gone.
The steak.
Or the rake.
Or the keys,
To open the gate!
Now...
Don't try to imitate,
Homemade cake.
Oh no.
And don't ever try to duplicate,
A delicious taste.
Or...
Butter up faked mashed potatos.
Pick it up or be gone.
What's given.
Pick it up or be gone.
What's there.
Pick it up or be gone.
The steak.
Or the rake.
Or the keys,
To open the gate!
Now...
Pick it up or be gone.
Oooow.
Pick it up or be gone.
Yeah.
Pick it up or be gone.
Now...
Pick it up or be gone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Round The Trees We Run
Wild flowers we pick
Butterflies, so colorful we chase
Not a thorn we fear would prick
Time in space not afraid to loose
For all is bare, and flower-juice we lick
You giggle, your cheek, my hand I place
Swallows, Gazelles, and Dick-dick
Marvell and stare, and make for glories
Grass, green and soft, a desire to pick
Tree leaves, they sway and dance
Round the trees we run, loose stumps I kick
My love, fruits we pick, heaven the place!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is a Garden in Her Face
There is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies grow;
A heav'nly paradise is that place
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.
There cherries grow which none may buy
Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do enclose
Of orient pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter shows,
They look like rose-buds filled with snow;
Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy,
Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
Her eyes like angels watch them still;
Her brows like bended bows do stand,
Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill
All that attempt, with eye or hand
Those sacred cherries to come nigh
Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
poem by Thomas Champion (1619)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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There Is A Garden In Her Face
There is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies grow;
A heav'nly paradise is that place
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.
There cherries grow which none may buy,
Till 'Cherry ripe' themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do enclose
Of orient pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter shows,
They look like rose-buds fill'd with snow;
Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy,
Till 'Cherry ripe' themselves do cry.
Her eyes like angels watch them still,
Her brows like bended bows do stand,
Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill
All that attempt with eye or hand
Those sacred cherries to come nigh,
Till 'Cherry ripe' themselves do cry.
poem by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pick Yourself Up Off the Bottom
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Get back to a simpler time.
If not just in your mind...
When you found a reason and rhyme.
To unwind.
Get back to a purposeness.
When you had much more sense.
And your mind wasn't condensed...
To accepting false lies...
To fly like they do!
Hop-in-that-taxi...and get back to you.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-doo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
Pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
And-pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
B ah dum.
Just pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Bah dum.
Pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Bah dum.
Just pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
Doo-doo-d oo-doo do...Bedoo.
Bedoobe doo-bee-do...Be-dooooo-beeeeahhh.
Bah dum.
Giddyup, giddyup, giddyup, giddyup...and
Pick-yourself-up-off-the-bottom.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother...look At Your Nature:
Wrapped in green grass
And other green things,
Beautifully laced in pink
And white blooms,
A canopy of blossoms
For thousand of strollers,
Flowered heads fresh out
Of priestly cradle,
Perennial rite in spring,
Eastertime turns Mother Earth
Into glorious paradise,
Pink and white snowflake
On jackets and hats,
But all delay leaving
to stroll hand-in-hand,
Promenading
On
Floral carpeting,
Besieged
by
Brooklyn Botanic Garden’s
ritual of spring.
Almedia Knight-Oliver
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy to play
Some budy
Did not play...
Any or everyday...
Play is not a
Gold meddel win...
play is your
body pick up health...!
health is
pick up your's...
life days good...
play to play...
With every day
each at least
One houre...
help with your body...
health...
happy to play...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Present From A Thief
Papa always picked the smallest doll,
Movable legs and arms loosely
Held together by rubber bands.
Sneaking through the door
In bare feet-not waking all
And placing it in a box beside
Little candies and fruits
The firewood snapped and popped
Lighting up the house like firework
On the Fourth of July…they slept.
Was that terrible act
Perfectly covered up?
For years, I called the action into question:
Whose eyes the wool was pulled over?
How could he in his drunken stupor
Slip in and out unnoticed to
Steal her innocence?
I remember mama sitting
At the kitchen table, with
A baby in arm,
Another on her knee, and
Starring down
At the butcher knife.
Eyes dripping blood as
She looked at her little girls.
Then regret and silence
Slit her heart.
Years later…
I visited her in the nursing home.
She was seated in an old rocking chair with
Head bowed; her silver hair wilted on shoulders;
Each day's images and thoughts were
Trying to dig a passageway out of her mind…
I asked, ' why you couldn't -or
wouldn’t catch that thief'
“ I had to wait for the grim reaper to catch him”
Almedia S. Knight or ASK,
04/24/07
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Garden Of Roses
My garden of roses is dead
All the most beautiful flowers have wilted
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Like my love and my nurturing was nothing
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Nothing but dust in the wind is left
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Everything's gone and I feel so empty
And now the winter is here
poem by Triin Kann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Tells Time
My mirror tries to convince me that I’m old.
Yet I have a fresh face I’m told.
So these furrows in this body I behold, as
I recognize skin-deep beauty does not rebirth.
Still, I remember things way back yonder:
Sculptured summer grass,
Children ringing around roses
With Pockets filled with poses,
Barren tree leaves
Floating in the breeze...woman!
Waste no time on younger years
For the past archives them.
I’ll never be older than the goddess of art.
My lover, you'll never be older than thou art.
Let the earlier years delight in the older ones
For to understand the old-
The new must been known.
February 2,2008
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hot Dogs On The Fourth Of July
The BIG BANGS on the fourth of July!
Picnics, fireworks, barbecues, hot dog for everyone!
Cool-dog lay in fresh whole-wheat bun covered with mustard,
ketchup, and onions-thinks it taste better than all others.
Humble- Ilana, one by one, pluck them off 'delicious'
Hot-diddly-dog barked, 'Leave the rest out just cover me
with mayonnaise and sauerkraut! '
Juicy-dog, filled with by products lay in bun with everything on it,
looking like the pigeon dropping that fell on the topping.
Innocence-Kayla said, 'I pass…a hamburger, please! '
Naked-slim-dog stretches out in just a plain toasted bun,
Demure-Kamille sits alone enjoying her bare hot dog
Happy Fourth of July!
By
Almedia Knight- Oliver
July 3,2012
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let's Just Breathe...
I know that every life cease living.
Surely as we sit remembering our other before,
you and me must know that
one day we must breathe alone
so, stay with me
and let's just breathe…
by
Almedia Knight -Oliver
November 25,2012
In memory of the birthday of Milton L. Knight, my first husband, coupled with the day we were married way back then…
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gravity of Love
The power of love …oh how over powering!
Lovers joined like butterfly wings
flutter sunshine and rain of tears.
Love infuses inside and outside
so caress, so too duress
Sweet hearts, sours stomachs as well.
Oh sweet love-
Oh great healer-
That fresh spring
Where verses
Stay young
Love is not love
Without its goods
so bear the gravity of love.
Almedia S Knight
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cherry-Ripe
THERE is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow:
There cherries grow which none may buy
Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do enclose
Of orient pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter shows,
They look like rose-buds fill'd with snow;
Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy
Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.
Her eyes like angels watch them still;
Her brows like bended bows do stand,
Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill
All that attempt with eye or hand
Those sacred cherries to come nigh,
Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry.
poem by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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