A Flower of Cactus
You could not ask for,
And I dared not offer you,
the small inglorious flower of cactus.
Instead I brought you tulips and roses,
to fill our lives with transient happiness.
In the darkness we hid our face.
Thus passed years,
Times we shed silent tears,
For having not dared the most precious -
A small inglorious flower of cactus!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Related quotes
Les Cactus
Le monde entier est un cactus
Il est impossible de s'asseoir
Dans la vie il n'y a que des cactus
Moi j'm'pique de le savoir
Aie! aie! ouille! aie!
Dans leur coeur il y a des cactus
Dans leur portefeuille y a des cactus
Sous leurs pieds il y a des cactus
Dans l'heure qu'il est il y a des cactus
Aie! aie! ouille! aie!
Pour me defendre de leur cactus
A mon tour j'ai pris des cactus
Dans mon lit j'ai mis des cactus
Dans mon silp j'ai mis des cactus
Aie! aie! ouille! aie!
Dans leur sourir' il y a des cactus
Dans leur ventr' il y a des cactus
Dans leur bonjour il y a des cactus
Dans leur cactus il y a des cactus
Aie! aie! aie! ouille! ouille!
Le monde entier est un cactus
il est impossible de s'asseoir
Dans la vie y a que des cactus
Moi je me pique de le savoir
Aie! aie! aie!
song performed by by Vanessa Paradis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No one is useless
Cactus is full of thorns.
Rose is a real charm.
Cactus guards in fence.
Rose has in it a defense.
Rose must not scorn
The cactus for its thorn.
15.04.2001, Vijv
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Good times, bad times & my cactus Christmas tree
My first Christmas tree, thirty years ago
Upon my arrival in Las Vegas
Shall always be remembered so,
As one of my greatest
My pickup truck was my home
My refuge and my castle
I was totally, absolutely alone…
But… it wasn’t such a hassle
I drove into the desert one day
To see what I could see
And lo and behold beside the road
Found my perfect Christmas tree
It was a three inch tall cactus
All attitude, prickly and brash
And I proudly installed it
Upon my ol’ trucks dash
I used cigarette cellophane
As tinsel you see
Stuck tight to the spines
Of my lil’ Christmas tree
Many times it fell off
My prickly lil’ friend
When I would start off too fast
Or career round a bend
Though small, and deceptive
It was easy to find you see
Usually stuck quite painfully
Upon my bony right knee
It was all I had that christmas
And I was lonely you see
Just me and my ol’ pickup truck
And my cactus Christmas tree
Childhood memories are nice…
But the one I’ll most remember will be
The one in which, all there was in my world
Was just me…my ol’ pickup
And my cactus Christmas tree
poem by David Whalen
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Through a Flower's Eye
No one has seen the world
Through a flower’s eye.
Looking up at the world
Gazing into the sky.
Feeling so small
And wondering why
He ended up as a flower
So pointless and shy.
Though small and unsteady
The flower stands
With beauty and elegance
In the gardener’s hands.
His life ahead
Is all unplanned
But this flower will beautify
Any unknown land.
poem by Lydia Jean
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I have learned the difference between a cactus and a caucus. On a cactus, the pricks are on the outside.
Cactus Hostess, Her Dialogue
you may sit
as we welcome you
mr. honored guest
but all we have
is a cactus chair
you may sleep
but all we have is a cactus bed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Flowers for You
The future is a lot like choosing a flower to send.
If I've used this analogy before, I will make amend.
What type of flower should I send to you my dear?
Rose, Daisy, Tulip, a combination, it is still not clear.
The flower of choice for her is the Tulip you see.
The red Tulip means a declaration of love on bended knee.
Generally speaking, Tulips mean the perfect lover.
Oh no, by sending them to you, I've blown my cover.
Take care of your Tulips with love and compassion.
Their beauty will remind you of one who has passion.
Allow my water to quench your flower's thirst.
Fill your heart with my love until it should burst.
poem by Manager Poet
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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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This Flower
This flower is a gift...given to all...
Some loose it...
Some have it stolen...
And some give it away...
This flower cannot be replaced...
For once it's gone...it's gone...
Another cannot be grown...
When others do not have their flower anymore...
Some of them laugh because you still have this flower...
But havin' this flower still shouldn't make you feel akward...
Bein' able to hold on to this flower for so long should bring you joy...
Havin' this flower after many others have lost theirs...
Should make you feel special at heart...
You shouldn't be ashamed that you still have this flower...
Hold this flower close and be proud...
This flower can bring Happiness, tears, regret, and even Life...
If you still hold this flower...
Hold strong...
You are not the only one...
For I still hold this lovely flower...
poem by Jennifer Carmical
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How spiny the cactus raised itself
how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the desert
how red the sand
burnt under the mid-day sun
how scorched the scorpion moved
across the red sand
and in that silence
a sudden whirlwind blows
a red, red cloud of sand
from the dunes rises
how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the tempest:
and yet
and yet
the tempest was subdued and fell
as happened long ago and now
and still
and spiny the cactus raises itself
into the desert
and the red sand
burns under the mid-day sun
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Foresight
That is work of waste and ruin--
Do as Charles and I are doing!
Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,
We must spare them--here are many:
Look at it--the flower is small,
Small and low, though fair as any:
Do not touch it! summers two
I am older, Anne, than you.
Pull the primrose, sister Anne!
Pull as many as you can.
--Here are daisies, take your fill;
Pansies, and the cuckoo-flower:
Of the lofty daffodil
Make your bed, or make your bower;
Fill your lap, and fill your bosom;
Only spare the strawberry-blossom!
Primroses, the Spring may love them--
Summer knows but little of them:
Violets, a barren kind,
Withered on the ground must lie;
Daisies leave no fruit behind
When the pretty flowerets die;
Pluck them, and another year
As many will be blowing here.
God has given a kindlier power
To the favoured strawberry-flower.
Hither soon as spring is fled
You and Charles and I will walk;
Lurking berries, ripe and red,
Then will hang on every stalk,
Each within its leafy bower;
And for that promise spare the flower!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Ode to my dying Cactus (Rough Draft)
Oh my most enduring cactus!
With more thorns than my years!
I shall water you for the last time
It shall be with my tears!
I recall the joy you gave us!
A representation of love’s endurance…
(And the ferocity it may bring)
I vividly remember, when my senile
Grandmother placed you by the
Light switch, and mother, In a fit
Of anger over some lost remote,
Or sheer grumpiness, smacked
What she thought was the switch!
She screamed so loud, you would
Think the claws of hell had impaled her heart!
And I remember the hours put into
Removing your teeth from her
Palm, consoling her, soothing her agony-
Yet we never blamed you, dear cactus!
Only ourselves.
You did not ask for much
(In fact, it didn’t look like you wanted much either)
Just a place to stand, a pot to grow in,
And a once and a while accidental high five- how do ya do?
You lived in front of numerous light switches
Slept often by the handle of the microwave
Even made your way into our bathroom once!
(I’d rather not speak of that one)
But ode to you, my dying cactus,
Ode to each and every thorn!
Ode to the memories you left us
For you depart at morn.
poem by Lazarus Knix
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Anonymous Plays: XVII
YE TOO, dim watchfires of some darkling hour,
Whose fame forlorn time saves not nor proclaims
For ever, but forgetfulness defames
And darkness and the shadow of death devour,
Lift up ye too your light, put forth your power,
Let the far twilight feel your soft small flames
And smile, albeit night name not even their names,
Ghost by ghost passing, flower blown down on flower:
That sweet-tongued shadow, like a star’s that passed
Singing, and light was from its darkness cast
To paint the face of Painting fair with praise:
And that wherein forefigured smiles the pure
Fraternal face of Wordsworth’s Elidure
Between two child-faced masks of merrier days
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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A Cactus flower
If I am a Snake and you are a Cactus flower in a thorny bush.
Do you think that we can love forever?
If I am a River and you are the Bank
Then only we can join together in the Ocean of Love.
In the ocean if you turn to a Shark and I become a coral flower,
Then what will happen to our endless love?
To the eternal lovers who drowned in the stream of love.
Re-birth of my friend Denis.Joe may you long live!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Flower Of Christmas Day
Was January and the year must start.
The Christmas passed had warmed the heart,
But the flowers had gone before the ice and snow
Had set the scene with it's winter glow.
It seems so sad that it happens this way
That there would be no flowers on Christmas Day.
But as one looks back on the day of Christ,
As the children play and the children smile,
There's no flower can take their place
With all that happiness in their face.
As they run and play all day until night,
They show no fear of the snow and ice.
So let's count our blessings since we have seen
The purest flower of all our dreams.
A healthy child that runs and plays
Helps brighten our lives in many ways.
That the prettiest flower that blooms in May
Can't compete with this flower of Christmas Day.
poem by John L. Sanders
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I tend my flowers for thee
339
I tend my flowers for thee—
Bright Absentee!
My Fuchsia's Coral Seams
Rip—while the Sower—dreams—
Geraniums— tint—and spot—
Low Daisies—dot—
My Cactus—splits her Beard
To show her throat—
Carnations—tip their spice—
And Bees—pick up—
A Hyacinth—I hid—
Puts out a Ruffled Head—
And odors fall
From flasks—so small—
You marvel how they held—
Globe Roses—break their satin glake—
Upon my Garden floor—
Yet—thou—not there—
I had as lief they bore
No Crimson—more—
Thy flower—be gay—
Her Lord—away!
It ill becometh me—
I'll dwell in Calyx—Gray—
How modestly—alway—
Thy Daisy—
Draped for thee!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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A Flower's fate
a flower lived happily in a garden,
there is a small room for the warden.
a naughty boy plucked the flower,
and ran away so far.
he kept the flower in his home,
the kept place is so warm.
the beautiful flower dried,
the naughty boy cried.
poem by Vsgk Vasanth
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A Flower For You My Dear
A flower will bloom on my plant too one day
And I shall offer it to you my dear.
My flower will have many petals,
Its colour will be that turns you envious of it and
Its fragrance will traverse beyond your stretches.
When I offer you my flower you will visit my garden perchance
And you will nip all the buds at once.
My flower will frown at me then and
I shall cry unto the skies
Till the stars invite me to join them for ever.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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All Are Precious
Every child’s, a precious one!
Every spouse, a precious one;
Every sibling, a precious one;
For, most have small, a family norm!
Every parent’s, a precious one!
Every student’s, a precious one!
Every teacher, a precious one;
For, most have small, a family norm!
Every worker’s, a precious one!
Every inmate, a precious one;
Every colleague, a precious one;
For, most have small, a family norm!
Every person’s, a precious one!
Every life, a precious one;
Every soul, a precious one;
For, most have small, a family norm!
So, take all care of every life,
And don’t take undue risks at all;
Life’s most precious thing on earth;
For, most have small, a family norm!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 24-10-2010
poem by John Celes
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Fear of a loss
Ring, ring
That was phone,
Mum answered
In a moment
Lost in time
my mum was gone
Granny on the couch
Nervous, anxious, fearful
A Quiet, deathly silence
Filled the emptiness
We were told to pray
I dared not ask why
Praying, wondering, still dared not ask
Then the memory, gripping
Daddy hadn’t come home that day
Fearing the unknown
Dared not question
Fear of hearing
Fear of knowing
Fear of loss
Ring, ring
Granny answered,
Questions, silence, gripped by fear
Bravely, she spoke what we dared not ask
What we feared we would hear
Daddy was gone
We lost him
In the silence of this night
He passed on, quietly
As he had passed through this life
Through our lives
The silence continued
Time had stopped
The heavy quietness
The ominous silence
Overwhelmed my senses
Fear
Loss
My fear of loss
No longer a fear
A reality now
poem by Alessandra Maraschin
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