The Black Roses
In the garden of wild plants
I search for a Rose or a Lily.
The laugh of the plants get subdued
Then I look for a Jasmine or a Hibiscus.
Then I hear the sob of a flower a little away
With black petals all within her.
'Who are you all? ', I queried.
'You call us black roses', they said.
Unplucked, untouched and unfelt they remain
The black roses of a wild region!
'May I pluck one of you? ' I asked.
'You are welcome to liberate us all' they said.
Liberation! I am a bit confused,
Liberation of a flower is a novel idea
And I return with a few black roses
For I cant liberate them by plucking at a go.
The Rose fades, the Lily shrinks,
The Jasmine dries up and the Hibiscus falls.
But my mind says to me now for certain,
'These Black Roses will bloom in your gardens once'.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair

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Related quotes
The Frown Of The Other Roses
Request: Please read this poem only after reading the one titled ' THE BLACK ROSES'.
The frown upon the faces of the other Roses
Disheartens me quite often, you know not.
But I am amused at the liberation of the Black ones
Around us and they never let a sigh out these days.
I rejoice at the tranquil and charming sight of many
A Garden of the Black Roses around your homes.
Your agonies and mine have died for ever as you know
The fragrance is the same as for all of them.
The Red Rose, the Lily, the Jasmine and the Hibiscus
Cast their eyes off me to make me feel annoyed.
Annoyances and embarrassments can never be felt
For my present has been re written by you all.
I salute your goodness in accommodating
All these flora of great identities in your gardens.
The liberation of these Black Roses has thus revolutionized
Your world of prejudices and done the work!
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair

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Black Roses Red
Gone with the wind
I am sure, Nowhere
To Go without you.
Without you, my red roses turned black
My Love for you is strong here,
but you are no longer here
I sit here looking at my shrub of roses
Not red, They are now black
when you left us here
No matter where we go
I think of The good times
when my roses were red
Now they turned black
I only say this now
my roses turned black without you
Return to me my love
And Turn My Black Roses Red.
poem by Ashleigh Leona Mellon

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A black rose
a black rose sees and tells it all.
how long are you gonna live
are you gonna find true love
where is life taking you
when are you gonna die
but most importantly,
a black rose sees
through your
relationship.
pick up a black rose just one
time and you'll be able to tell and
even visual whats going on in
your relationship.
black roses are very deep and meaningful.
black roses tell you like it is and not like a red rose
who only wants to show you passion and consideration.
listen to a black rose and it will make you
wanna pull out your hair because it tells you
the whole truthful story
but listen to a red rose and it will make you
happy by telling you only the good things
and keeping all of the secrets and lies away.
-La'Veranique
*aka*
dat girl nickey
poem by Nickey Mason

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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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The Wind, One Brilliant Day
The wind, one brilliant day, called
to my soul with an odor of jasmine.
'In return for the odor of my jasmine,
I'd like all the odor of your roses.'
'I have no roses; all the flowers
in my garden are dead.'
'Well then, I'll take the withered petals
and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.'
the wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:
'What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?'
poem by Antonio Machado

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Roses In Madrid
Roses, Senors, roses!
Love is subtly hid
In the fragrant roses,
Blown in gay Madrid.
Roses, Senors, roses!
Look, look, look, and see
Love hanging in the roses,
Like a golden bee!
Ha! ha! shake the roses--
Hold a palm below;
Shake him from the roses,
Catch the vagrant so!
High I toss the roses
From my brown palm up;
Like the wine that bubbles
From a golden cup.
Catch the roses, Senors,
Light on finger tips;
He who buys red roses,
Dreams of crimson lips!
Tinkle! my fresh roses,
With the rare dews wet;
Clink! my crisp, red roses,
Like a castanet!
Roses, Senors, roses,
Come, Hidalgo, buy!
Proudly wait my roses
For thy rose's eye
Be thy rose as stately
As a pacing deer;
Worthy are my roses
To burn behind her ear.
Ha I ha! I can see thee,
Where the fountains foam,
Twining my red roses
In her golden comb!
Roses, Donnas, roses,
None so fresh as mine,
Pluck'd at rose of morning
By our Lady's shrine.
Those that first I gather'd
Laid I at her feet,
That is why my roses
Still are fresh and sweet.
Roses, Donnas, roses!
Roses waxen fair!
Acolytes my roses,
Censing ladies' pray'r!
Roses, roses, roses!
Hear the tawny bull
Thund'ring in the circus--
Buy your arms full.
Roses by the dozen!
Roses by the score!
Pelt the victor with them--
Bull or Toreador!
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford

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A Black Single Rose.
A single black rose.
A single black rose to carry the load,
A single black rose to turn the road,
A single black rose to touch the soul,
A single black rose to widen your hole,
A single black rose to melt your heart,
A single black rose to force a start,
A single black rose to make you cry,
A single black rose to make you dry,
A single black rose to help you climb,
A single black rose to make you lie,
A single black rose to take a life,
A single black rose to take away strife.
poem by Natasha Ligons

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Winter Sunset
Roses in the sky,
Roses in the sea
Bowers of scarlet sky-roses
Take my heart and me.
God was good to make,
This December weather,
All this sky a rose-garden,
Rose and fire together.
To the East are burning
Roses in a garden,
Roses in a rosy field,
Hesper for their warden.
Yonder to the West
Roses all afire,
Mirror now some rare splendid
Rose of their desire.
Pulsing deeper, deeper,
Waves of fire throb on,
Never were such red roses
At sunset or dawn.
Roses on the hills,
Roses in the hollow,
Roses on the wet hedges,
In the shining fallow.
West wind, blow and blow!
That has blown ajar
Gates of God's great rose-garden,
Where His Angels are,
Gathering up the rose-leaves
For a shower of roses
On the night the Lord Babe
His sweet eye uncloses.
All the sky is scarlet
Flaming on the azure.
O, there's fire in Heaven
My heart aches with pleasure.
Leagues of rose and scarlet,
Roses red as blood:
All the world's a rose-garden.
God is good, is good.
poem by Katharine Tynan

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Where The Wild Roses Grow
Word and music by: nick cave
They call me the wild rose
But my name is elisa day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name is elisa day
From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face
Chorus
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman Id seen
I said, do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?
On the second day he came with a single red rose
Said: will you give me your loss and your sorrow?
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, if I show you the roses will you follow?
Chorus
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, all beauty must die
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
Chorus
song performed by by Kylie Minogue

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Black Rose
A black rose can stop the beat of ones heart
A black rose bring the scent of death as it tears love apart
A black rose makes nightmares relity
A black rose fills my life with unsertanty
A black rose is forgoten hopes and dream
A black rose is a broken man laying in tears and painful screams
A black rose is the pain of a widowed wife
A black rose is lost love in my hopless life
A black rose is the memorys that haunt my restless soul
A black rose took everthing from me that once made me whole
poem by Glenn McGahan

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A Black Rose
A black rose can stop the beat of ones heart…
A black rose brings the scent of death as it tears love apart…
A black rose makes nightmares reality…
A black rose fills my life with uncertainty…
A black rose is forgotten hopes and dreams…
A black rose is a broken girl laying in tears and painful screams…
A black rose is the pain of a shattered life…
A black rose is lost love in my hopeless life…
A black rose is the memories that haunt my restless soul…
A black rose took everything from me that once made me whole…
Including…you…
My Black Rose
You’re my Black Rose
I water you every day
I make sure I shine my light on you
I show you more love then any of my other roses that died
You’re the one
My Black Rose
Where would I be without such a beauty
What would I do without my Black Rose
I love my Black Rose
I’ll keep you forever
My Black Rose
I’ll make sure you’ll never die
I’ll make sure
To water you
I’ll make sure
To love you
I’ll make sure
To shine my light on you
My Black Rose
poem by Keith Young

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A Black Rose
A Black Rose,
Glistening in the rain,
A sign, a symbol,
An insignia of loss,
It’s the Flower of Darkness,
Lying in wait on this cold winter night,
It represents the beauty of despair,
The grace of defeat,
The feelings we all find hard to bear,
The millions of people that have all loved and lost,
All behind this flower that holds us aloft,
Within its petals we drown our grief,
With its stem we clutch to what’s left of life,
Within its thorns we spite those who have set us so
And within this dark flower we find our peace,
The power to let go and leave the loved lie,
So with this flower we sign our hearts,
We accept our everlasting love,
And move on,
A Black Rose,
Glistening in the rain,
Ill forever love you,
Ill never lose hope,
But until you come back,
Here’s a Black Rose,
For my love…
- The Black Rose
poem by Andrew Rose

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If Roses Can Be
If roses can be
yellow
pink
red
white
And still be roses
If hair can be
red
blonde
brunette
black
And still be hair
If eyes can be
green
blue
brown
hazel
And still be eyes
Then why can't humans be
black
white
hispanic
asian
And still be accepted?
Why can't people be
special
different
unique
original
And still be people?
If roses can be
yellow
pink
red
white
And still be roses.....
poem by Jennifer Hall

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Ten Roses
For every tear you cry,
I cry a hundred thousand more,
I'll give you ten roses,
For everything you're fighting for.
The first will be a red rose,
For courage and for health,
The second a bright yellow rose,
For gaining all life's wealth,
The third will be a soft pink rose,
So you may be happy in love,
The fourth will be a white rose,
Brought by a turtledove,
The fifth will be an orange rose,
To give you back your fire,
The sixth will be a deep pink rose,
So you may have what you desire,
The seventh will be a coral rose,
To gain you many friends,
The eighth will be a purple rose,
To guide you through life's bends,
The ninth will be a pale yellow rose,
To give you hope to try,
The tenth will be a black rose,
So you can mourn me when I die.
I have to leave my dearest friend,
But may the roses last you til my end,
I'm sorry I could not say goodbye,
Though ten roses I leave by your side.
I leave you with a kiss,
Along with these rose flowers,
I know I will be missed,
But I pray the roses will give you power,
Power to go on my love,
Power to be strong,
Power to get over me,
And let your life carry on
poem by Ruth warren

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Rose...
Roses smells like a flower
My baby Rose smells like love
Love that smells like roses
Roses are red but Rose
Is lavander...My favorite
Color purple....She already
Got me smelling like her
Lovely purple flowers
....I'm feeling like I'm a flower
Who has been taking cared of
And mentor by Rose....
poem by Joy O' Pateng

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A rose I am no more
If roses are the colors pink, red, yellow & white,
What happens if my rose is the color of black.
If all roses have their thorns,
What happens if my rose has lost its thorns.
If a rose that has no color & no thorns is no longer a rose,
Then a rose of color & thorns I am no more.
A rose I am no more, A rose I am no more.
poem by Beating Tree

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Pink Flowers.
Do not text me or think otherwise
I am just picking flowers from my garden.
Last evening I picked a red rose but
Wow! It proved to be too red for my date
Today I visited the same garden
The only flower I found was a white rose.
Where is my favourite pink rose?
This morning I cycled to the market
Sure, to buy my date a pink rose
But the only roses there were yellow and purple.
Tried to enquire where I could get one
But no one knows where to find.
Went to my flower vendor but nowhere to find
Where will I get my pink rose for my date?
Tomorrow, I'll travel far and wide
Only to get this precious pink flower
And if I succeed, my date will be happy
And my heart will find a solace rest
Amidst the residue of love petals
Just with the pink flower petals.
Where will I get my Pink rose flower?
(Dedicated for my pink flower date)
poem by Aron Lelei

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The Black Rose
from a crevice of a rock
a black rose grows
it blooms on dark dreams
its petals are the ones that you do not ordinarily
see in the morning
the sun sometimes pays attention
to its being unusual
not being just any rose in the garden
it gives it more light hoping that someday
it may become white
the black rose is faithful
until it wilted
the dews miss it: the black rose is true
to its nature.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A Song Of Roses
'Tis time to sing of roses: of roses all ablow,
To every vagrant passing breeze they dip a courtesy low,
'Tis time to sing of roses! for June is here, you know.
One song for true love's roses of sweetest deepest red,
Some heart will wear you faithfully when life itself hath fled,
And for the white rose sing a song--the white rose for the dead.
And ah! the yellow roses, of brightest, lightest gold,
King Midas must have touched their leaves in mystic days of old,
Or they were made of sunshine, and gilded, fold by fold.
And the roadside rose, sweet-briar, we would remember thee
And the cinnamon rose that evermore enthralls each passing bee,
You old, old-fashioned roses, a-growing wild and free.
'Tis time to sing of roses! of roses all ablow!
They come again, as sweet, my dear, as those of long ago.
'Tis time to sing of roses! for June is here you know.
poem by Virna Sheard

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