Forgotten Fertility Myth
Pranab k c
27/06/2011
a deep depression
carries monsoon again
its raining
five days at a stretch
day and night
she is wet
her chastity
waiting to be ploughed
soil so soft
to be mould in creation
plough hard
my peasant friend
pour dropp to form seed
your personal rain
would make her corny
every dream
of your personal cloud
would make her smile festive
fertile soil seeks seedling
cultivate you the peasant
cultivate hard
cultivate with care
cultivate with unending passion
She waits to bear all the pain
for a pleasure of exposing a life again
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Related quotes
Therefore I feel that the aforementioned guiding principle must be modified to read: If you desire peace, cultivate justice, but at the same time cultivate the fields to produce more bread; otherwise there will be no peace.
quote by Norman Borlaug
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Legacy Of The Soil
In my forefather's blood
Rests my gentile peasant legacy, of a dexterous islander
Born to the fertile soils of Serendip
As the seeds of my legacy were cultivated
On soggy terrain for an opportune metamorphosis
Golden terraces laden with logged grains of prosperity
A tribal farmer persona transcending mortality
To the throne of a medieval mythical kingdom
To the august presence of a sorcerer of the soil
A sower granted the wish of king Midas, miraculous palms
Sowing the twines of the intricate tapestry of my heritage
Where no swords were wielded, no blood was shed
Where no battlefields were fronted, no prisoners were seized
Where roots were laid and sprouts were sprung
A legacy like no other, to own the spirit of the soil
To harness the blessings of the sun gods
To garner the vitality of the seasonal monsoon
To cultivate hope in the promise of a bowl of rice
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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A Drop of Rain
Dropping from unforeseen heights
From within the resonating heart of a weeping Nimbus
As the cloud cover lazily distends
To plaster the limitless wall of a heavenly fortress
In its luscious coatings of an Azure complexion
As celestial tear ducts seep a valiant tear
Dropping from apical altitudes to the suspecting soil
Sun parched land veiling the secrets of the earth
As beneath the cracked veneers, a bed of seed await their turn
To pack the soil with die-hard stems of leafy chimneys
To save mankind from the guillotines of a sun-baked terrain
Germinating the hopes of the magicians of the soil, Midas's apostles
Sowing their seed with a wand of thought, firmly clasped in to their palms
As a luscious November awaits for a sprinkle from the heavens
The legacy of the seasonal Monsoon, a promise from the Gods
To cultivate hope even in the direst of landscapes
To burgeon the soil with tides of green, for a timely transformation in to golden grains,
As a single droplet of water from the rupturing skies
Metamorphosed arid despair to steadfast optimism
The promise of a fertile crescent logging with golden grains of Serendipity
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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To cultivate trees, you need 10 years. To cultivate people, you need 100 years.
Virtue is not a mushroom, that springeth up of itself in one night when we are asleep, or regard it not; but a delicate plant, that groweth slowly and tenderly, needing much pains to cultivate it, much care to guard it, much time to mature it, in our untoward soil, in this world's unkindly weather.
quote by Isaac Barrow
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Birth and Renewal
The womb that brought her forth gave birth to my attachment to her, a cold night may give birth to a warm day, but brighter and more rarely seen is a woman of virtue relieved of unclean ways.
In my path many flowers I have picked, inhaled of their various scents and have since considered insufficient, worthless is the soil of unfertile ground, but the raised land is beloved by me accentuating the sun's rays as it wanes in its round.
Many were the days when comfort eluded those without crop, but one cannot cultivate when the fertile embrace of love has escaped.
poem by Dijon Noble
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Once And Once More
I silently bear the agony of waiting
Like the parched soil
That waits for the clouds to weep
The seed that craves in pain
For the first touch of rain!
I endure it flesh and soul
Watching in slow motion
The transformation of time
Stoically without a heartbreak
I survive the agony of a wait.
I know my dreams will arrive
The clouds will pour on the soil
Raindrops will pierce the seed
New life will burst forth
My wait will begin…once more!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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I want to cultivate the seed that was placed in me until the last small twig has grown.
quote by Kathe Kollwitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How To Survive The Flood
This life has seemed
like a small grain of hope
washed away upon an
entire ocean of despair.
And yet have never lost
faith in the importance
derived from the lessons
taught during the journey
nor with choice currents
winds seasons of change
nor the timed destinations
which changed realities.
For the embryonic grain
carried was belief in my
changing consciousness.
Purpose in all creation
separated divine imprint
knowing mirror image.
Veil ocean of despair
was a materialistic
world that washed
against affirmation
of potential humility
compassion for others.
I sought to cultivate
in fertile soil within
myself to seed in
others. I believed
that to change self
was to change world.
To improve self
was to improve
an entire world.
I chose to cast
myself upon altar
of our creator God
when I could
offering up
my life energy
as a beacon
of insight to light
illumination
the indifference
with the wonder
that I perceived.
That seekers
might seek
the mystery
written within
the world
and question
creation
and wonder
at the infinite
being which
embodies
cosmic totality.
Thus in seeing
life seeded
in poetic soil
seekers
might
tend that
previous
precious
flower of
unique
creation
that contains
their own
soul which
will germinate
and flower
as shared
essence
of their
own life
coloured
experience
flavoured
being.
I know
a simple
recipe to
make a flower
grow a little
better in any
garden for
as long as
it lives.
Change
improve
yourself
you change
improve
the world.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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God of Misery
Misery and disease marry the soil and vegetable,
Many finds result from soil and garden, worms and snails,
That result, that deploy their forces armed in ways known to man.
I shall work again, cultivate the garden as a curtain is folded neatly,
The culture has a crowning achievement.
Grotesque and ugly, watchers of the night sky raise their anger
At the old comets and asteroids hitting the world as danger.
Grinding, depriving and dissolving the diseased soil,
Many old comets design danger, making use of the soil
By hitting too fast, and last of all the planet is hurt.
Misery is actually too powerful a danger,
That meteors are faster every year,
In a fit of rage is the god of asteroids.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Each Of Us Is
We are not the kaleidoscope, but each of us is an unique interpretation of God, of creation. Through discernment, courage and wisdom that we cultivate in time we add to, we all positively contribute to the completion of creation.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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A Storm Cute Than Fallacy
Pranab k c
08/2011
storming midnight blew away personal desert
of unending misunderstanding
of lagoon-dry stretching for bewildered lacuna
only the draught ever infinite as far the horizon could spell
the thunder spellbound to crack its designed cacophone
storm thrust over the precarious proposition
blew up moments from hour barriers
personal thatchery where no commitment breed
any fungal sophistication, scrambled pram to bear the dripper
storming mid-night splashing the dirt of regular deviation
from the higher starry face to dive the unending understanding
where grave simply meet any person, no alive diction, no alive skeleton
few passengers yet to grab the strong hold of wheeling fear
midnight and its polygamic gesture
birds can't know, air can't know
human mind the only server where to transmit every spasm of amity
of Antigoniac caricature the whole of civilisation carries so long
midnight storm
no personal melancholy ever been drawn the utmost region
when the beginning ends and when the end beginning
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Goethe In Dormition II
Sing a good man, bear a fool
where needed, living well-
it doesn't matter what:
soul-transforming work that gets us bread;
and till your garden
number trees
seperate them, leaf and stem
analyze a stone
tracing back a form
to the mind of-Gott,
you can even love a worm
that with the sunshine and the rain
into your heart
may sink God's renewing pardon;
your senses-cultivate them
pour wine into your crop
until you nearly drop
place Beauty in your bed
but above all, all,
put Poetry in your head
and by its....
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Soils
The soil was baked very hard and the seed bounced off
I would not listen to God and would only scoff
It was unreceptive and unrepentant ground
And no time or place for God's Word was to be found
Littered with many stones and exposing no ground
Full of crevasses but little soil was to be found
The seed fell into a crack germinating there
It grew quickly but shrivelled under the suns glare
Covered with weeds and leaving so very little soil
My life all mixed up and full of care and turmoil
The Word of God tried hard to germinate and grow
But the cares and worries of this world choked it so
The soil was prepared and I readily received
God's Word was spoken and as I heard and believed
It sprang up in my heart over many a year
And blossomed and bloomed as I saw the fruit appear
Based on the parable of the Sower (Matthew 13: 1-23)
Rain Drop
A dropp of rain
cloud sends rain to earth
when it reaches soil
it makes fragrance
no other person in the world will not make
such kind of fragrance
it means the happiness of the soil and rain drop
rain dropp ends its life
but
it makes us happy
poem by Dhivya Thiyagarajan
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The Pride Of Men
Field works dimly camouflage attrition
These pomegranate hands who cultivate
Trenches of dusk squeal to those lesser seen
In Labyrinths of detachment
We feed upon this which but only grows
These pomegranate hands who cultivate
Our strength is swoon but stars do also rise
From our hands we pass on to daybreaks next
We feed upon this which but only grows
Our march is marsh, to scavenge the land
And when demised the green for moments
From our hands we pass on to daybreaks next
And in that moment of such starry watch
Thus bares the seeds to that of all we strive
Though strength still meek through stripe of strife
We stature ourselves upon what we heap
poem by Scott J. Shepard
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It is a golden maxim to cultivate the garden for the nose, and the eyes will take care of themselves.
quote by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Virtue is its own reward, and brings with it the truest and highest pleasure; but if we cultivate it only for pleasure's sake, we are selfish, not religious, and will never gain the pleasure, because we can never have the virtue.
quote by John Henry Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No mockery in the world ever sounds to me as hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and tilled with manure.
quote by Charlotte Bronte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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