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A Singing Broken Heart

Alas! I lost my comfort and now my existence,
Cause I saw a flower full of fragrance,
Was pretty but surrounded by thorn fence,
And I wanted to get it breaking any hindrance.

The flower pointed at me as same my will,
And waving its head, it assured me,
A was satisfied and could pass any hill,
Only its pointing kept me in glee.

I started moving to reach the flower,
Thorn stopped me, but I kept on,
I was bleeding but smiling with shower,
I felt many times but I kept on.

I reached the flower with fine intention,
Forgot my wounds I was near my destination,
And I made aware it with my notion,
And a long time we did too mention.

Now I wanted to get its respondence,
But it didn't speak 'on this' even a single word,
Being on thorns I waited with confidence,
But it dejected and made dark my happy world.

It pushed me on thorns and disabused too,
On my will was to pluck, but it thought wrong,
I appreciated it for its beauty and loved too,
But it refused me and disliked my song.

I broke badly while falling on the ground,
And my dreams collapsed like a house of sand,
My wounds were aching but made no sound,
And now I've no place for one to be land.

Now I've truned a stone by prayer,
And nobody is near me as may be my dear,
Cause I've been broken by a false player,
And have no might to do it again, I clear,
Nobody is able to be called mine,
Hands meet but between hearts a rine.

Rine means ditch

poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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The Flowers of Thy Being

Being the human beings
Undiscerning is our Art
The thoughts are merely feeble
The Actions, unwise
Me Lord! Me Lord!
Helpless we are, careless as well
The Moment, Thy Person reflects Thy Art
Visible is evrything, discerning we are!
What is Thorn? What is Flower?
Demarkation is accessible
Numerous Thorns we come across
Thorns!
Maybe are the Idols!
Yeah, they are!
Our 'self' leads us to Idols
Thy 'Self' takes us towards Flowers:
The Flower of Thy Word!
The Flower of Thy Path!
The Flower of Thy Guidance!
The Flower is nothing else but Thy Being
O' Lord save us from Idols!
Protect us from Thorns I mean
Shower upon us just Thy Flowers
The Flowers of Thy Being
The Flowers of Thy Being

poem by Azhar Hameed
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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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They are sad

They are sad
Butterflies were dancing,
Bees were kissing him.
Bumble bee was sucking him
& children were seeing him with charm.
It was a marigold on the top of the plant.
On the other hand some thorns were seeing the glory of the flower
and
their eyes were full of thrust & tears
Because none was seeing them.
In the last they asked its reason from the flower.
The flower tells them the truth that
They are without beautiful colors,
Juice & fragrance
And he is full of colors, juice & fragrance
So every one likes him.
Another fact is this that the flower
is a symbol of peace & love.
On the other hand the thorn is a symbol of cruelty & pain.
I think that unaccountable people in this world
behave like a thorn so they are sad.

poem by Vijay Gupta
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Flower to Flower

I came across one flower
While walking in a garden
It saw me and gave a smile
I too smiled and walked
Each day in garden I smiled

One day I gazed at flower
At its plant and roots closely
I observed its dance in wind
And its dance made me sing
It made me smile all my time

Everyday I went to flower
Smiled with it and came back
My days went like seconds
Nights passed like years
Flower made me its lover

So I wrote songs on its dance
On its lovely beautiful smile
All about its charming beauty
And my state of dying slowly
In which I am smiling daily

One day I saw flower singing
In the garden while jogging
Song reveled its moving off
From my garden to a house
Of loved one from its past

I smiled on all my songs
While writing a new song
Its song of flower to flower
Which I gave to my flower
When departing from my lover

poem by Kranthi Pothineni
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Poisoned Thorn Apple

I have love a thorn apple flower,
Which is scentless and very cute white flower-
But it is full of poisoned.
I have decorate my home only by this flower
Take care it every moment by my over capacity and
Forget all everything for this flower.
I don’t know when some poison
Have scatter in my whole body.
It has make me Mad,
It has make me homeless,
it have make me alone,
It has make me hungry,
It has make me sleepless,
It has made me guard in dark night.
It has make me a dirty boy
On the street.
Oh my thorn apple flower!

poem by Shahin Mallik
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I Picked A Flower

I picked a flower from a bush
And I loved it so
Put it in a vase next to my bed
But how was I to know

That the flower cried for its bush
That the bush cried for its flower
But how was I to know
That the flower would die in an hour

The flower withered away
And I put it inside my book
Because I loved the flower so
But how was I to know

That the flower gasped for breath
That it was facing death
But how was I to know
That the flower so badly wanted to go

And I kept the flower close to me
So that every day I could see
But how was I know
That the flower that I had loved so
Had always hated me
That there was pain I couln't see
And how was I to know?

poem by Shobhita Singh
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Flower and Bird

Amongst the lonely branches of a tree,
Stood a lovely flower fragrant and free,
She was the sight of every passer-by,
'What a beautiful flower! ' people would cry.
The flower in the prime of its youth,
Couldn’t identify life and its real truth,
Proud by its fragrance and beauty it stood,
And thought that beauty was what made it good,
Impressed by its beauty a little bird would sing,
The tale of its love and the whole valley would ring,
Perched on the branch of the great oak tree,
The bird sings its love for the flower to see,
People would stop and look at this tale,
Of the beautiful lady and the gallant male.
And one day the bird let its heart out,
And the beautiful flower refused with pout,
The bird wanting its beloved’s heart,
Asked her, 'What do I do so that we don’t part? '
And the proud flower told the lonely bird,
'There is a flower down the valley, have you heard?
Its brilliant red, is said is more beautiful than me,
So dear bird, make me red, as red as I can be! '
The bird said, 'But your beauty is no match,
So beautiful are you that my heart, you did catch! '
The flower in its pride and anger,
Told the bird 'Oh! Don’t bother',
The sadness in its eyes, the bird couldn’t see,
And said, 'I gift the colour red to thee! '
Saying this he pierced his heart on a thorn,
And spilt the blood on her till he was torn,
And the flower indeed did become red,
With the love of the little bird’s blood,
People would stare at the beautiful flower,
And amongst the branches it would hover,
The people passing soon forgot the song of the bird,
But the silent lament of the flower was never heard,
The flower never forgot the love of its bird,
But the melody of the poor bird was never heard!

poem by Supriya Mothay
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Of past relationships, plants and things

If I have to find a plant
of her
she wouldn’t have been a rose
as though it has thorns,
it has meaningful beauty
and it leaves an odour
that stays with you.

Although at a time
I thought that she’s a beautiful flower
I have to stay
far away from flowers
and try and get another plant,
because I will forever
search to find
the right flower.

An Umbrella-thorn bush
with shafts of thorns for me,
is probably the best description
that I will ever find
and where she touches me
it scratches till the blood appears.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Little flower

It seems she is the beautiest flower.
Hidden in the darkest tower.
Hidden in the deepest dark.
Wearing all her thorns so sharp.

The flower I do like so much.
The flower I'm not allowed to touch.
The flower I'm thinking of.
Although she's sometimes so rough.

Flower of my misery.
Shine on in eternaty.
Flower of my happiness.
Eased away my deep distress.

The flower is so far away.
Watch her growing day by day.
She lives on the other side.
But she makes my days so bright.

poem by Sven Meinecke
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Growth of a Rose

A rose has been planted in it's place
Waiting to begin it's life as a beautiful flower

A shower of rain falls on the rose
Awakening the rose from it's long slumber

Beneath the ground where this flower is planted
It's roots have started to grow out from the rain

Soon the rain has stopped and the sun shines
The warmth of the sun's rays help the rose grow

Seeing the bright rays shine from it's source
The rose begins to reach out to the sky

Finally escaping the cold dark place the flower was in
It has at last faced the bright world for the first time
Revealing it's beauty and experiencing the feeling of pure happiness

poem by Sarah Bruun
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I met a flower

I met you like I met a flower in the street
A secret a beautiful magical growth
A wonder of life I suppose
And yet that flower speaks with curiousity and pride of what it has become
What kind a flower did I meet though?
Is it a rose? a meaning of love
Or a camillia who represents graciousness?
Did I meet an anemone? Fragile and delecate
But I met a flower that made me understand why a flower so spectacle about life and so couragious brought me to beauty and elageance in such a world
I met u flower like it was the beginning of ur life and u will be there till your pedals fall....

poem by Luisa Sanchez
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A flower to goodblye

It was late supper i asked you about
a flower but you said how? then I
knew it is your debut how happy
and lucky i was i could have you

The following days the suffer begins to
ruin the compatibility of picture of us
yet i had a conflict but fixed after all
then i found out your own thorn as well

I didn't count that much because I trusted
you and Im the one with miserable
complexity as we knew but more than
a year and stil he has the space over you

Before anything else million times
a flower turn to blue and frequent
arguments passed without serious
talks in any conversation im loser to you

Even long days of tears and sleepless
nights came through still we shared our
'iloveyou', but following days another
storm will put me boiling point and
bad words and ugly me come pointing you

Revenge of you is like lightning curse
striking my balls and realised you keep
him as your fall back and give your flower
same as you what you gave it the last time

Tough to over come the burns you fired
and this scar will remain forever a sign

Words that are unlikely to hear wasn't meant
it is a meaning of unconscious love, a powerful
never been recognized because a flower you
gave was pearl that left me scared.

You are a flower symbol of life and change
your lovely scent and colors means change
your tears when i teared means change
but you are not the flower that want me to stay
you are the flower that want me to walk alone and change.

My flower i kept you in a safe place
but i will let my destiny say to you
I love you Goodbye.

poem by Immanuel Santos
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The Falling Flowers

In the beginning I saw your smile…the unwithering flower…
I was dancing onside of thousand blooming flowers…
The bud’s fragrance was overwhelming silently.
That moment, I felt it in the town of wind with calm breeze.
Every tear and smile has a beginning and ending.
This time, my unwithering flower is falling down onto my tainted road…
The song of storm and fire take away all of my unwithering flowers.
The fragrance, the flower’s colours…everything is melt vastly.
Inside the locked remorse, I find a falling flower.
Inside the cold guiltiness, I start dancing and plant the flower.
This falling flower, I plant it…on the empty soil named despair.
This falling flower, I water it…with my tears named blood.

poem by Mizushi Hikari
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Sun flower

In the bright sunny day
My eye’s make a flower their pray
A flower that has indeed crossed
The boundaries of the lost beauty in flowers

A flower which has a very pleasant
View and answer you’re eyes like
Looking at a creasant in the dark sky
This flowers behavior is utmost

Majestic and generous and it
Has the most delightful look
Like looking at a sunset hill
This flower is known as The sun flower

poem by Afrasiab khan
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10 Days

Having been born in my own yard
I never knew a reason to leave.
But when a flower from the other side of the fence called my name
it brought me to consider.
But the prospect seemed ludicrous-
I shall stay on my side of the fence.
Upon closer look the beautiful flower again called my name
I saw the petals were smooth and green.
So I jumped the fence, and tried to place myself in the ground next to the flower
laboriously digging all around it, trying to become one with it.
The following 3 days, while I dug, the beautiful flower withered in the hot wind and on the fourth crumbled beside me.
Feeling compelled to myself wither and crumble with guilt
on the other side of the garden another flower called
feeling hopeless and tormented I followed the voice for four more days until I came upon the flower
standing alone on parched soil, famished and dying.
Suffocating in my own misery
for 2 days I attempted to penetrate through the dry, cracked ground to bind myself to this lone, beautiful flower I found among weeds and sticks
and eventually dug this flower up as well, which too died
I thought about where to go from here
but so weakened I myself began to wither and crack.
10 days after leaving my yard
my skin flaked off
my teeth fell out
my bones became ashes.

poem by Louie Vizcarra
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A Flower Standing in the Dew

A single flower that was standing in the dew
Enduring in the mist
With the most spectacular hue
I walked away only to turn around
I bent over
To cull it from the ground
I couldnt let it stay
I had to take it with me
Seal it air tight in an album
So I could always admire it's beauty

That's why I looked twice
when I saw the flower again
No stem or petals this time
What I discovered was a friend
One who is just as marvelous
as the flowers hue
I couldnt pass by
So I turned around and chose
How precious you are to me
Only God really knows
Beautiful, delicate
Yet you still remain strong
A single flower standing in the dew
A flower
A flower
You

poem by Jamie Ellen Christian
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The Ways of the Mind

The Ways of the Mind

Against the thorns
Grazing,
To the honeyed rose
The bee flew
A-buzzing!

With the breeze
Swaying
Was the pretty rose-
And at the bee it
Sighed with envy.

"How I wish
I were the bee
Flying so free
And not bound
To the ground
Like the piteous me."

So thought the flower
In its bower.

"How I wish
I were a flower
Cupping the sweet nectar
And bound
To the ground
Without having to fly
All day long."

So sang the bee
By the lea.

From above
The Omniscient smiled
At the strange ways of the mind-
For were not each of them
Now interchanged—
The flower having been the bee
And the bee having been the flower
In their previous birth and longed so!

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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A Friendship Is But A Flower

A friendship is but a flower
Growing out in Gods garden
Helping out the fellow man
Not knowing should they get a pardon

A friendship is but a flower
Waiting to bloom in the spring
Waiting with a helping hand or an ear
To help or listen to most any ol thing

A friendship is but a flower
That God lends to us for a while
To help us along our way
And give us a reason for a smile

A friendship is but a flower
Leaving impressions on our hearts
Never knowing when it might end
But, always happy to see it start

A friendship is but a flower
Sent with guidance from above
The friendship must be based on trust
But, like the flower, it's started with Gods love

Friendship is but a flower
Sent down for all of us to share
So pass on your bit of friendship
Show someone just how much you care

A friendship is but a flower
And this friendship I pass on to you
So please take my flower and friendship
So you can pass it on to others too

wrote 3/3/2009 by Norman Hale Jr

poem by Norman Hale
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Perplexity

Time changes
Changes every thing
From truth to beauty
Every thing is moving
From love to morality,

Love is now a butterfly
From this flower to that flower to flatter by
This flower does not have
That flower might have the desired pleasure
This cave does not have surprises
That cave might have the wonder!

Morality is now
A make up box, a mask
A means to meet the selfish end
A weapon man made
Twist and turn to suit the whimsical trade.
In the periphery of divinity now men is the guide
The car of the morality men now drive.

Truth remains not a truth at all
It keeps changing with time and place
Losing its beauty and divine grace
In the eyes and minds beauty is very restless
From the beginning permanently remains only the perplexity
In the life of bewilderment absolute is the paradoxical irony.

poem by Abdul Wahab
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Flower - Flower Love

flower - flower love

flower - flower love
I come with flower and love
into your life that's full of hope

flower - flower love
I bring you flower and love
as a truth of my heart that never drop

I am a butterfly for you
with blackish orange in colours on me
I will never fly away from you
and never stop watching over you

for
flower - flower love
you are my flower
and you are my love

poem by Juahta Sitepu
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