Sweet Flower
I don’t get it
You seem to be
A thin petal yearning
A fragile root silently singing
And a little head so proud though weak
Sweet flower
I don’t get it
Who made those colours
What made those drops
Shining like tears down your leaves
Mourning water dresses of dawn
Crying across a death too strong
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Related quotes
The Petal Effect
A flower is born, bringing life to Earth.
With the experiences made on Earth,
A petal falls off the flower.
It slowly takes life from the flower.
He has his first crush, one petal is lost.
Bachelor's degree is obtained and requires another petal.
A family drops two more precious petals.
The last petal falls as life ends on Earth.
poem by Cody Klinker
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Lola She Liked A Look Through The Window
Into a colour lit night
Her dresses white hands transparent
A through thought penetrate glitter of the glass
Her colours were made of the white washed walls
She echoed a raven ebony tied hair
She echoed a raven a raven and a woman
Both fragile thin bird like thinning lines
Of a double sword beak singing the mask of light
Did she see the masts the sails or the ships
Did she spill the white cloud dress down her hips
Did she seal the colours long dead fading on her lips
Or simply tied everything within the clasp of her hands
Resting nestling in the calm white lap
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Few Drops Of Dew
Bound by earth and sky
The particles of darkness
Of my existence
Got crystallized into
Fertile dew-drops.
The thin clouds
Of scattered dew-drops
In the womb of an
Unfathomable vacuum
Assembled in ones and twos
Over my semi-bald head,
Promising a heavy downpour
On the pale leaves of grass at my feet,
During an autumnal twilight.
I was really amused to perceive
How those mere dew-drops
Could regenerate
So much greenery
Here, there, everywhere
And even on my bald- head.
At a distant horizon
On the dark boughs
Of a parched gulmohar tree
Red petals appeared
And singing birds perched
And surprisingly I could hold
The fragrance of thin hairs
Grown around her nape
With a solid passion,
Singing nursery-rhymes
To utmost perfection.
In the empty corridors of my ribs
Broken desires and disabled opportunities
Raised their wrinkled scalps
For a few drops of dew.
I really marvelled
At the sight of those dew-drops
Of such multiple colours
Creating a cascading effect
In their beauty and significance
Which I adored
And many a time imbibed.
But, alas! I didn’t know
Such ethereal dew-drops
Could feel so insecure
Merely at the sight
Of a pregnant eastern sky.
The Face Of Pain/Lice Bola
Your face made of а flower
Leaning on a fragile petal
It’s calling in a voice of solitude
The root thirst for shining
Your breathing in faded leaves
Trodden broken
Mere branches of breath
You’re floating with the clouds
Like a pain buried below deception
Your hands in twilight
A shattered embrace
A deflowered touch
Your cheek
A scar
Tvoje lice od cvijeta
Na krhku peteljku oslonjeno
Zove glasom osame
Korijen žedan sjaja
Tvoje disanje u svelom lišć u
Ogaženo lomljivo
Tek granč ica daha
Plutala si oblakom
Ko bol sahranjen pod obmanom
Tvoje ruke u sumraku
Slomljen zagrljaj
Obešč ašć eni dodir
Tvoj obraz
Ožiljak
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Dying Flower
Each Flower Petal Slowly Dying
Light Whispers Of Death
Hanging In The Brisk Afternoon Air
Lightly A Petal Floats Towards The Ground
A Gust Of Wind Quickly Whisks It Away
One By One The Flower Becomes Bearer
As Each Petal Vanishes.
The Day's Become Darker
The Nights Lighten
And The Flower Becomes Lonely
Till Eventually Only A Stem Remains
To Show It's Cycle Of Life.
The Flower Willows Towards It's End
The Petals Become Scarce
What Once Used To Be A Colour Delight
Now Hangs In Deaths Mist
As An Emerald Waiting...
Waiting For The Last Petal To Die.
Finally The Emerald Stem Dies Away
And Slowly Decay
For Again One Day
It Shall Show Its Colours
And Whistle In The Wind
With All It's Petals In Full Bloom...
poem by Ian Humphreys
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Long Thin Dawn
That long thin dawn
That long thin dawn
Is comin on again
Ive seen the hills of frisco and the streets of montreal
In every town Ive been to Ive had someone to call
From winnipeg to edmonton, vancouver to st. paul
Ive had so many good friends I couldnt miss them all
And that long thin dawn
That long thin dawn
Is comin on again
Last night I came to denver beneath the snow-capped ridge
I thought about my darlin as I stood beneath the bridge
And there were times I made her cry but I guess by now shes learned
That any time Ive wandered I always have returned
And that long thin dawn
That long thin dawn
Is comin on again
Right now Im on a highway just east of omaha
Riding shotgun on the biggest rig you ever saw
With forty tons of pig iron and a trucker known as bill
All the way to windsor, weve got some miles to kill
And that long thin dawn
That long thin dawn
Is comin on again
While climbin up a hillside, bill drops er down a gear
And the engine sings so sweetly tis music to my ear
I tell him how I long to be just like him if I can
Drivin like the restless wind across this precious land
Says bill the air is clean tonight as he puffs a big cigar
And if this rig keeps rollin, my boy youll travel far
But when you are a trucker youll come to realize
The only thing a man can do is watch the world go by
And that long thin dawn
That long thin dawn
Is comin on again
That long thin dawn
That long thin dawn
Is comin on again
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Petal Game
pick a flower
to play the petal game
pluck a petal
he loves me
pluck a petal
I don't love him
pluck a petal
he keeps getting closer
pluck a petal
I keep pushing him away
pluck a petal
he is always around me
pluck a petal
I hide away from him
pluck a petal
he is always protecting me
pluck a petal
I just punch him in the gut
pluck a petal
he never seems to get it
pluck a petal
I really hate his guts
pluck a petal
he just really bugs me
pluck a petal
I need a new flower now
pick a flower
to play the petal game
poem by Amber Lyn Charneski
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In The Valley
Said the yellow-haired Spirit of Spring
To the white-footed Spirit of Snow,
“On the wings of the tempest take wing,
And leave me the valleys, and go.”
And, straightway, the streams were unchained,
And the frost-fettered torrents broke free,
And the strength of the winter-wind waned
In the dawn of a light on the sea.
Then a morning-breeze followed and fell,
And the woods were alive and astir
With the pulse of a song in the dell,
And a whisper of day in the fir.
Swift rings of sweet water were rolled
Down the ways where the lily-leaves grew,
And the green, and the white, and the gold,
Were wedded with purple and blue.
But the lips of the flower of the rose
Said, “where is the ending hereof?
Is it sweet with you, life, at the close?
Is it sad to be emptied of love?”
And the voice of the flower of the peach
Was tender and touching in tone,
“When each has been grafted on each,
It is sorrow to live on alone.”
Then the leaves of the flower of the vine
Said, “what will there be in the day
When the reapers are red with my wine,
And the forests are yellow and grey?”
And the tremulous flower of the quince
Made answer, “three seasons ago
My sisters were star-like, but since,
Their graves have been made in the snow.”
Then the whispering flower of the fern
Said, “who will be sad at the death,
When Summer blows over the burn,
With the fierceness of fire in her breath?”
And the mouth of the flower of the sedge
Was opened to murmur and sigh,
“Sweet wind-breaths that pause at the edge
Of the nightfall, and falter, and die.”
poem by Henry Kendall
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Millions of water drops
drops of water
millions of drops
Falling down the rocks
Millions of water drops
Glittering in the sun
Shining like pearls
Millions of water drops
Ending as a river
Finding way to ocean
Millions of water drops
Creating childrens happiness
Laughter and joyfullness
Millions of water drops
Soon will tide reach
White long shores
Millions of water drops
Animating Waves
into forming caves
Millions of water drops
splittering from above
till reaching top of the hill
Millions of water drops
Without them no sound
No whispers of the living
Millions of water drops
Watch the clearness
From crest to earth
Millions of water drops
For tribe’s best
Beware of waste
Millions of water drops
Treasured should they be
As belonging to all humanity
(march 2008, Switzerland)
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Dancing Classroom
Crying
Not crying
Do you think my heart is made from iron?
Do you think man looks strong outside
Will always be strong?
Can’t be hurt?
But truth, I’m not more than ashamed coward
Whoever…understand
I want crying too
Even strong
But please understand, that I’m a woman
Sometimes I want to weep
Be cared and respected
Whoever…understand me
I’m not strong as you see
Want to be understood
But when it happened, I can’t bear it
Don’t want seen weak
There is no super power human
Or very weak person
But many people don’t realize
And labeling as they like
There is no unharmed human
But for they have a hope
And stand against wind of life
There is no other way than fighting
Even life is hard
Even it’s painful
Even those people don’t understand
Let’s we face it!
And cross!
from odoru no kyoshitsu
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Water
water for water is water, thirst made me dried
eyes tears flow water, leaves skin broken
need water, cure my pain smooth my rough
surface makes it clean
pure and perfect water made so bright, all the
day expose heat dried my sweat, in my face
and lips tears seen in the eyes
all day long I seat in my brow, waiting the sun
down to lead me low, hunger and thirst open
my throat, water spelled drops like a dew
wash my warm body as you can see, the limps
legs and the hands would be easy, where ever
in my body, the water comes refreshing to me
slowly, slowly, fell the cool water beneath
my delicate skin, in my buttock where you have
to stay, hold on, I sit you in my dream, my living
water makes me the same
oh! water, please always watered me in each
new day and fell the real me
poem by Antonio Liao
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A Winter Bloom,
In winter a flower blooms
unique and vivid
It sweet scent looms
Bringing out all its essence
A winters gift
In its eccentric presence
stands out like a star
In the dark clear sky
It dazzles with beauty
A treat to the eye
So vulnerable and fragile
But still full of mite
The storms don't harm
The frost cant bite
As the spring
Begins to settle
The flower whimpers
And drops a petal
spring flowers begin to bloom
but this lonely blossom
Meets its doom
poem by Nic Hillen
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The German Legion
In the cot beside the water,
In the white cot by the water,
The white cot by the white water,
There they laid the German maid.
There they wound her, singing round her,
Deftly wound her, singing round her,
Softly wound her, singing round her,
In a shroud like a cloud.
And they decked her as they wound her,
With a wreath of leaves they bound her,
Lornest leaves they scattered round her,
Singing grief with every leaf.
Singing grief with every leaf.
Sadder grief with sadder leaf,
Sweeter leaf with sweeter grief,
So't was sung in a dark tongue.
Like a latter lily lying,
O'er whom falling leaves are sighing,
And Autumn vapours crying,
Pale and cold on misty mould,
So I saw her sweet and lowly,
Shining shining pale and holy,
Thro' the dim woe slowly slowly,
Said and sung in that dark tongue.
Such an awe her beauty lent her,
While they sang I dared not enter
That charmed ring where she was centre,
But I stood with stirring blood
Till the song fell like a billow,
And I saw them leave her pillow,
And go forth to the far willow,
For the wreath of virgin death.
And I stood beside her pillow,
While they plucked the distant willow,
And my heart rose like a billow
As I said to the pale dead-
'Oh, thou most fair and sweet virginity,
Of whom this heart that beats for thee doth know
Nor name nor story, that these limbs can be
For no man evermore, that thou must go
Cold to the cold, and that no eye shall see
That which thine unsolved womanhood doth owe
Of the incommunicable mystery
Shakes me with tears. I could kneel down by thee,
And o'er thy chill unmarriageable rest
Cry, 'Thou who shalt no more at all be prest
To any heart, one moment come to this!
And feel me weeping with thy want of bliss,
And all the unpraisèd beauties of thy breast-
Thy breast which never shall a lover kiss!''
Then I slowly left her pillow,
For they came back with the willow,
And my heart sinks as a billow
Doth implore towards the shore,
As I see the crown they weave her,
And I know that I must leave her,
And I feel that I could grieve her
Sad and sore for evermore.
And again they sang around her,
In a richer robe they wound her,
With the willow wreath they bound her,
And the loud song like a cloud
Of golden obscuration,
With the strange tongue of her nation,
Filled the house of lamentation,
Till she lay in melody,
Like a latter lily lying,
O'er whom falling leaves are sighing,
And the Autumn vapours crying,
In a dream of evening gleam.
And I saw her sweet and lowly,
Shining shining pale and holy,
Thro' the dim woe slowly slowly
Said and sung in a dark tongue.
In the cot beside the water,
The white cot by the white water,
English cot by English water
That shall see the German sea.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Mourning Son
Dawn arrives on Golgotha
Shedding light
On the place of the Skull
The Dawn...
Bringing with it
The Mourning Son
The Mourning Son came
Carrying His
Forced Death
on his back
Shunned by those who had loved him
Mock by those he'd shown his love
The Mourning Son rose over the hill
Held only by three nails
Then
Uttered but four more words
Eli! Eli! Lama sabachtani?
Then
The tears
Burning
Stinging
Weeping for those he had lost
poem by Erick Carrasco
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You Do The Hanging 'In' There
Let me tell 'you' somethin'
I appreciate your comments,
And from the place in your head
With assessments made.
But
You do the hanging 'in' there
You the one hold your head up and be strong.
Whatever those perceptions you perceive me to be
From an outer appearance you find important to judge.
Aint' nothing here you see weak about me.
I am aware of the wrapping done to my package.
I lead.
I do not follow.
And I may do this with tears.
With acceptance.
Not with misery.
There is not one step I've made in my life,
That occurred with dependable and/or reliable
Assistance done from anyone,
Who replaced my challenges and obstacles
With vanilla smoothies!
My faith kept my pace.
And when I awaken each day I am grateful.
I pray for strength and I get it.
And I do know from where my strength comes.
Nothing I've done has a confused moment about it!
Ain't nothing here you see,
Weak about me.
I appreciate your comments,
And from the place in your head
With assessments made.
But
You do the hanging 'in' there.
You the one hold your head up and be strong.
Whatever those perceptions you perceive me to be
From an outer appearance you find important to judge.
I don't take the time to do that to anyone.
I am here to do to get done.
Not to critique those tasks given I do to complete.
Or take the time to observe who is observing me.
You do the hanging 'in' there.
You the one hold your head up and be strong.
I know who I am
With eyes clear and direction taken!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Are you proud yet?
i made it many miles without you i can make it farther i know i can
you never taught me how to ride a bike but i know how
you never helped me with my homework but i got A's
you never there to give me advice but i handled it without you
im tired of trying to make you proud, im about to give up its hard to never hear you say it
when i lost my bestfriend over a stupid gun you werent there to be my rock i made it without you are you proud yet?
im strong like mom im more like here everyday im proud of that she has been my rock, when i do something little she says she is proud
i made it thur middle school without you barely there i realized mom was right im glad im not like you
started high school your still not there physically yes but mentally you could careless, are you proud i know mom is
im turning 18 and going to graduate, are you proud yet, no you told me you didnt want to see me graduate, am i ever gonna hear you say it.
maybe not but i know one thing you have taught me is not to be like you, im like mom
i got pubished in a book, are you proud no you said you could careless, how can you be so heartless.
I let go of many things youve done, said and you promised maybe that wasnt a smart idea but ill learn so are you proud yet.
honestly i keep thinking im never gonna be your perfect kid, i dont care because mom made me the women i am and made me not like you, im strong are you proud yet?
After all is said and done i know mom is proud i made it this far without you, proud yet i know i am!
poem by Sarah Selinger
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You Are A Stone Hearted
You are a stone hearted
that so my heart is bleeding
with your one hit
What my fragile heart will understand
harshness of your heart and
what your heart will understand
delicacy of my heart
My heart is more placid
than petal of any flower
Your heart is stone
that can overcome high tides of oceans
No fire can burn your heart
because you are a stone hearted
My heart can fuse with your little love
that so I hug without any care
or dare for life and death
My heart is a flower
Your heart is a stone
As a stone I worship your heart
offer my flower heart
Either you love or kick off
But my heart is made to adore you only.
poem by Ramesh Rai
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Drought
My tears my tears which water my mind
My tears my tears which make me strong
Tears of joy, tears of every kind
Tears of my sorrow, in my sorrowful song
Weeping tears never more
It is gone, it is gone my hearts manifestation
My tears, my tears my eyes adore
The tears of my soul, my only consolation
But never more, will my eyes leak
I can cry no more, for death did steal
The tears of me, forever dry and weak
My tears, my joy, my life's zeal…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Some Tears
Water that sprays my eyes,
whose drops awake my sighs.
I close and the tears get off my eyes.
The tears were the water in the pond
that I smashed from a thin frond.
The sparkles wake up from the gravity
and show the dance of nature
like roaming in rainbow city
The white water finally splits
And again get into my eyes
and now the tears of elated highs.
Then later, sits with me a little girl,
sees the fishes of the pond that swirls
I saw, she smashes, the drops jump
I smile and the water rumps
to my eyes and stick towards the untouched (from water) girl
whose tears do not hurl
poem by Ravin Sharma
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31.Why did you do this? [Acrostic]
Wafer thin wings floting above me
Hovering about for a moment free
Yearning a flower to drink nectar sweet
Dancing in the air without any feet
It sees a flower, so swoops down to see
Discovering you, it comes to tell me
Yearning to see a flower dat can dance
Obviously i come, and go into a trance
Unknown of the thorns it has on itself got
Dropping a bit of blood, the thorn, oh I forgot!
Obliterate the wounds, i must fast
Time flies as i rush home at last
Hurriedly cover the wound and run away
Imbicile i was, forgot roads, the mind sways
Surely the flower was here, but where did it go? ? ?
One question the mind asks time and again,
It refuses to let go, however large be the pain
Why did the flower hid itself from my way?
Or did someone take it very very far away?
poem by Harshvardhan Pandit
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