John Ballard
In the lust of my strength
I cursed God, but he paid no attention to me:
I might as well have cursed the stars.
In my last sickness I was in agony, but I was resolute
And I cursed God for my suffering;
Still He paid no attention to me;
He left me alone, as He had always done.
I might as well have cursed the Presbyterian steeple.
Then, as I grew weaker, a terror came over me:
Perhaps I had alienated God by cursing him.
One day Lydia Humphrey brought me a bouquet
And it occurred to me to try to make friends with God,
So I tried to make friends with Him;
But I might as well have tried to make friends with the bouquet.
Now I was very close to the secret,
For I really could make friends with the bouquet
By holding close to me the love in me for the bouquet
And so I was creeping upon the secret, but --
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Related quotes
A Bouquet
He brought to me a sweet bouquet
that sparkled in the light.
I touched the hand that picked the flowers,
daisies all so white.
When he left I held them close,
afraid that I might cry.
If only I could keep them
and never let them die.
But tears that flow
and flowers that grow
can both be dried you know.
The thought of this brought a smile
and never brought a tear.
My first bouquet would last forever
between pages I revere.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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My First Bouquet
He brought to me a sweet bouquet
that sparkled in the light.
I touched the hand that picked the flowers,
daisies all so white.
When he left I held them close
afraid that I might cry.
If only I could keep them
and never let them die.
But tears that flow
and flowers that grow
can both be dried you know?
Thinking of this brought a smile,
never a falling tear.
My first bouquet would last forever
inside pages I revere.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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This Bouquet
got a garden of songs where i grow all my thoughts
wish i could harvest one or two for some small talk
i'm always starving for words when you're around
nothing on my tongue so much in my ground
half the time i got my gaze trained on your motel door
fourth door from the end
rest of the time my gaze lays like a stain on the carpeted floor
if it weren't for my brain i'd go over and make friends
too bad about my brain 'cause i'd like to make friends.
see the little song bird unable to make a sound
even though she follows her words from town to town
we both have gardens of songs and maybe its okay
that i am speechless because i picked you this bouquet.
song performed by by Ani DiFranco from Not A Pretty Girl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On that Fateful Picnic Day
On that fateful picnic day, when
To prove that we were different
We bravely plunged into the dam
To exchange wedding wows
Amid a cheering group of friends
We held hands and sent up a prayer
Sealing our union with a kiss
The glorious moments unfortunately
Did not last very long, we were struck
With the awful feeling of being
Caught in a whirlpool with
The angel of death hovering close by
Terror was writ large on the faces
Of all our friends and witnesses
As they faced the prospect of having
To dive into the water to save us
Eventually they did brave it and we
Were all fortunate to come out alive
To celebrate our wedding in a church
With all the traditions - white dress
Bouquet and dad giving daughter away
With our rescuers, family and friends
poem by Sandra Martyres
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Friends Will Be Friends Will Be Friends ...
Friends Will Be Friends Will Be Friends . . .
Written by John Deacon, Freddie Mercury
Friends will be friends
Friends will be friends
Friends will be friends
Friends will be friends
Friends will be friends
Another red letter day
So the pound has dropped and the children are creating
The other half ran away
Taking all the cash and leaving you with the lumber
Got a pain in the chest
Doctors on strike what you need is a rest
It's not easy love, but you've got friends you can trust
Friends will be friends
When you're in need of love they give you care and attention
Friends will be friends
When you're through with life and all hope is lost
Hold out your hand 'cos friends will be friends - right till the end
Now it's a beautiful day
The postman delivered a letter from your lover
Only a 'phone call away
You tried to track him down but somebody stole his number
As a matter of fact
You're getting used to life without him in your way
It's so easy now, 'cos you got friends you can trust
Friends will be friends
When you're in need of love they give you care and attention
Friends will be friends
When you're through with life and all hope is lost
Hold out your hand 'cos friends will be friends - right till the end
It's so easy now, 'cos you got friends you can trust
Friends will be friends
When you're in need of love they give you care and attention
Friends will be friends
When you're through with life and all hope is lost
Hold out your hand 'cos right till the end - friends will be friends
Yeah yeah
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cursed
I have been cursed.
From the very early start.
Rape and abuse.
Hurt and pain.
Is all I've ever known.
I have been left cursed.
By the seedy thing you did.
Left with flashbacks.
Left with hell.
Unable to trust.
Unable to forget
Cant move on
I am cursed by you.
By what you did to me
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Always The Bride, But Not The Groom
Always the bride, but not the groom
that is what I became
when I went to a Wedding in October.
We went to the wedding,
then along to the reception.
I stood talking to a couple of friends
and the bride rushed in and said to me.
“Dave look after these for me“
She then commenced to hand me
her bridal bouquet and handbag.
One of our friends Donall
gave me a hug and kiss
and asked me to marry him.
His partner Janice grabbed her camera
and took a photo of me,
bridal bouquet in one hand, handbag in the other
and a lopsided smile from the mouth ulcer I had.
Right there and then I became a bride, but not the groom.
20 November 2008
Author’s note:
I dedicate this poem to:
Janice Windle (who took the photo)
Donall Dempsey (who planted the kiss)
Tara (the real bride for dropping me in it.)
poem by David Harris
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H's Soul
I wonder what happened to Hitler's Soul
As children cursed it around the world
At breakfast tables, under hidden floors
And at the oven doors
Lovers cursed it in their ecstasy throes
Soldiers cursed it, spitting on their boots
Marching in life and death parades
As their mothers cursed him too
Begging his Soul to be damned in Hell
Consigned with Generals that cursed it well
Where did it go, that very special Soul
Was there a space, a prison cell
Padded by the silence of his screams
That echo in our darkest dreams?
poem by Frank Bana
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A Flattened Flower From the Bouquet
Some say to me I'm pitiful
craving the joy you intend for another
I'm the shadow roommate
the homely friend of the beautiful
girl she is;
the one you'll marry
and I will position myself
for the bouquet
when it is you I want.
You knock and enter;
I lower my eyes
unable to look at you
and you take a flower
from her bouquet
and give it to me
because that is the way you are
kind to everyone.
And I take it to my diary
and put it between my
written pages
where it will scent my thoughts
of what will never be.
The cruelest love of all
lies in that Love's Aspiration
lies dead in the road
unnoticed.
It's not your fault or hers
it's my own secret obsession
from which I'll never be free.
I sit in the window, looking out down below
and I hear your voice:
' I just want you to know
I think you are great'
and then you left
and I could hear her
crying softly
in a bedroom
full of tears
and I rise to look to see about her
trailing guilt
and hope against hope
and wonder
still reeling
from the fact
that you
had spoken to me;
no longer invisible
filled with your words which have splattered
onto me
intended from my roommate
electrified that you noticed me
a single flower from a bouquet
intended for her-
awakening then
from yet another daydream
of you
and me.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Cursed
I know I will never find love and happiness.
I know I meant for a life of sad loneliness.
I am broken and torn time and time again.
I am turning black from deep within.
I am hanging on by a single thread.
I know that I am better off dead.
Every one hates me and thinks i'm weird.
I will never belong here.
I can't take the pain away.
I try to with this silver blade.
Yet here you come to make it worse.
Making it known that I am cursed.
Cursed to a life of dread.
Cursed to be found dead.
If you read this it might be the last thing you read.
For I feel this is the end for me.
poem by Jean Pullman
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The bouquet [Buchetul]
The sun was shining high above
When I gave you in a bouquet
My precious and consuming love
And my heart's secret in that day.
The posy was my youth, my pearl,
And if today lies withered here,
You maybe didn't kiss it, girl,
O, lovely Mary, O, my dear.
For eons you cannot be mine,
You know it and I know it well,
But love is like a sweet red wine
And getting sober is a hell.
Yet, when in reverie you're caught,
If you can see that bouquet clear,
Give to the poet a nice thought,
O, lovely Mary, O, my dear.
poem by Alexandru Macedonski, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Flowers
(orbison/dees)
When I was a boy I ran among the flowers
Looking left and right at the bright array
I played through the spring, whiled away the hours
Lingered with the flowers every day
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the way
When the summer ends and the storms of life are over
When the winter comes and the petals fall away
They may write it on my stone, he was just a roller
But he stopped to pick some flowers along the way
Flowers, pretty flowers, flowers, lifes bouquet
Flowers, picked some flowers, along the way
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friends Will Be Friends
Words and music by freddie mercury and john deacon
Another red letter day
So the pound has dropped and the children are creating
The other half ran away
Taking all the cash and leaving you with the lumber
Got a pain in the chest
Doctors on strike what you need is a rest
Its not easy love but youve got friends you can trust
Friends will be friends
When youre in need of love they give you care and attention
Friends will be friends
When youre through with life and all hope is lost
Hold out your hands cos friends will be friends right till the
End
Now its a beautiful day
The postman delivered a letter from your lover
Only a phone call away
You tried to track him down but somebody stole his number
As a matter of fact
Youre getting used to life without him in your way
Its so easy love cos you got friends you can trust
Friends will be friends
When youre in need of love they give you care and attention
Friends will be friends
When youre through with life and all hope is lost
Hold out your hands cos friends will be friends right till the
End
Its so easy love cos you got friends you can trust
Friends will be friends
When youre in need of love they give you care and attention
Friends will be friends
When youre through with life and all hope is lost
Hold out your hands cos friends will be friends right till the
End
Friends will be friends
When youre in need of love they give you care and attention
Friends will be friends
When youre through with life and all hope is lost
Hold out your hands cos right till the end-
Friends will be friends
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Know What You Know
I know what you know
I am not inferior to you.
Do not look down on me
We are all homosapiens.
Divinely created as God's image
God rates us all equally.
I have sights like you
I walk like you
I think like you.
I may be black,
I may be white,
I may be coloured,
I may even be red
I am God's creation
My senses are the same like
Differences in skin pigmention
Does not make me inferior
We are the same
So, deal with me on what I know
So, deal with jewels inside me
Relate with me on my knowledge
Deal with me according to my capacity
I will reciprocate the same
We are bound to respect each other
I am not cursed
My generation is not cursed
My land is not cursed
I am endowed like you
My ancestors land is blessed
I know what you know
I am not inferior to you
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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I Am About To Sleep
darkness comes
it is routine, nothing is mysterious about it
and as usual i am about to sleep
but you are there knocking at the door
of my heart
bringing me a bouquet of vowels
looking like petals of the
blue flowers in the desert
i let you in and i take the bouquet of vowels
and shower it
sprinkle it
with the salt of my tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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(Rejection Poem) An End
Just a footnote
Just a speck on a place we call earth.
Cryptic and cursed.
A human scourge.
A splurge of insects crawling to just to try escape.
Are we all just snakes?
Why cant somebody be a real person?
A look out when you get in trouble?
Somebody your willing take on hell for?
Somebody who will listen and not drift to someone new?
Is it so hard to believe I want you but can't have you?
So being the gentlemen I am, I build the wall that divides us.
And to then you brag to try make me jealous.
But I am unsympathetic to your claims.
You want to choose one of my friends,
then we cant even be friends.
And so it comes to end.
Tried but it wasn't enough.
Life is rough.
But I am tough.
I am everything you want but you see still me as who I use be.
Sorry I'm not like i was before.
Been down the block once or twice and many more.
Seen your kind before.
Everybody around you gets destroyed.
And I can't pick up your pieces anymore.
No I can't, no I won't.
Not another one.
Not like before.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Family first
Friends may come and friends may go
Family is first and this I know
Putting friends first is a mistake
And not one that you should make
Family’s forever and this I know
Friends enter your life and then they go
Making friends is fun trust me with this
But not something you would miss
Love your family while they are here
Keep their love very near
Family can leave the world at any time
So don’t make yourself feel like slime
Family is here to comfort you
I know your friends do this too
Without your family you would be lost
Hold on to them no matter the cost
poem by Cheyanne Whien
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Family First
Friends may come and friends may go
Family is first and this I know
Putting friends first is a mistake
And not one that you should make
Family’s forever and this I know
Friends enter your life and then they go
Making friends is fun trust me with this
But not something you would miss
Love your family while they are here
Keep their love very near
Family can leave the world at any time
So don’t make yourself feel like slime
Family is here to comfort you
I know your friends do this too
Without your family you would be lost
Hold on to them no matter the cost
poem by Bonnie B Long
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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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The Unsold Bouquets
the remaining bouquets
the flowers are still fresh
but this late valentine night
they look particularly
bare of hope for a sale
three bouquets on a table
that have become too big for them
during the day, there were
so many of them
one over the other
a city of eager lovers
head over heels
in choosing of the best roses
to convey their feelings
to their fancied
flowers, blooms, blossoms
their grace, fragrance and
semblance of intimacy
won the day for the
hot blooded men who wilted
in the face of transmitting
their innermost thoughts
to their new loved ones
so many of his hearts went
into the girl's when she
acceped his bouquet
so many of his lovelorn nights
turned into nights of hope
now a girl in a condominium
still carries a dream to have
that sweet bouquet from
her secret love
a three-year dream
a bouquet a year
that's three bouquets
three bouquets that sit
on a big vacant heart
longing to be bought
longing to be given away
longing to fill up a lonely heart
giving her life the colours she longs for
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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