Stalk
some get penalized
for stalks,
stalkers not
allowed here
and you are
warned.
what are stalks
anyway?
why should
we dislike
stalkers?
come to think
of it. Hold the stalk
and let your
fingers run
towards the
flower.
Feel the petals
and smell
the scent.
now you are
a stalker.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
After No Replies
stalker faded
after no replies
to all insults
empty electronic
sad sick stalkers
need responses
no flame anger
no outbursts
no prey emotions
no stalker buzz
fazes poor lost stalkers
need medical helpers
without therapy
passion empty stalkers
reaffirm insult senses
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Stalkers Pride
A Stalkers Pride!
On a day like anyother,
It really was a bother,
to find a yute,
following me in pursuit,
I get home,
And pat my little knome,
Go inside,
To hide,
Watching Gossip Girl,
When he caught me in a whirl,
The window goes bong,
Next thing I know he's gone.
Maybe he has something to hide,
Or maybe it's his Stalkers Pride
poem by Alice Merideth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paparazzi Picking Orders
paparazzi photographers
stock photo shoot images
mosquito pest stalkers
celeb watchers
photo paid photographers
media admirers
paparazzi photographers
check mated by stalkers
dime celebrities wannabies
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Because Youth Is A Flower
because youth is a flower
that blooms only once
one must be kind to use
hands which are gentle
a flower is fragile with
petals and sepals and
stalks not strong enough
to withstand the demands of
time
the flower that blooms today
tomorrow shall die
each moment is crucial
each bloom cannot last forever
the flowers of my youth
if well taken cared of
shall proceed with its fruits
and its seeds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Endless verse of a nameless flora:
A lonely lovely girl was Standing at her breeze filled balcony,
her adorable heart was admiring the quiet moon in harmony,
a golden yellowish nameless flower fell on her feet,
the sweet perfume of the fallen flower blended with that chill breeze,
while she tried to hold the flower the petals they fell one by one,
she was holding just the stalk that was left alone,
tear drops that escaped from her eyes fell one by one like the petals,
she was holding someone's sweet memories like the stalk.
The moon wished that her love should blend with her love like the perfume in the air.
poem by Vimal Kumar N
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When A Sunflower Dies
It's sad to watch sunflowers die
That once were strong and bright
Their thick stalks drawing food from soil
To reach amazing height
Their faces once were giant stars
Their hearts an intense brown
Their sunny petals always smiled
And formed a golden crown
When stalks are cut and brought indoors
To parlors decked with grace
They bring its owners fleeting joy
With fresh and glowing face
Nobody cares when in a week
Life ebbs from each dry stem
Each petal shriveling and spent
To certain death condemned
It's sad to watch sunflowers die
That once were strong and bright
Their thick stalks drawing food from soil
To reach amazing height.
poem by Liilia Talts Morrison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But I do know people that have stalkers and it's not nice.
quote by Daniel Craig
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I do know people that have stalkers and it's not nice.
quote by Daniel Craig
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Bean-Stalk
Ho, Giant! This is I!
I have built me a bean-stalk into your sky!
La,—but it's lovely, up so high!
This is how I came,—I put
Here my knee, there my foot,
Up and up, from shoot to shoot—
And the blessed bean-stalk thinning
Like the mischief all the time,
Till it took me rocking, spinning,
In a dizzy, sunny circle,
Making angles with the root,
Far and out above the cackle
Of the city I was born in,
Till the little dirty city
In the light so sheer and sunny
Shone as dazzling bright and pretty
As the money that you find
In a dream of finding money—
What a wind! What a morning!—
Till the tiny, shiny city,
When I shot a glance below,
Shaken with a giddy laughter,
Sick and blissfully afraid,
Was a dew-drop on a blade,
And a pair of moments after
Was the whirling guess I made,—
And the wind was like a whip
Cracking past my icy ears,
And my hair stood out behind,
And my eyes were full of tears,
Wide-open and cold,
More tears than they could hold,
The wind was blowing so,
And my teeth were in a row,
Dry and grinning,
And I felt my foot slip,
And I scratched the wind and whined,
And I clutched the stalk and jabbered,
With my eyes shut blind,—
What a wind! What a wind!
Your broad sky, Giant,
Is the shelf of a cupboard;
I make bean-stalks, I'm
A builder, like yourself,
But bean-stalks is my trade,
I couldn't make a shelf,
Don't know how they're made,
Now, a bean-stalk is more pliant—
La, what a climb!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Feeling The Sunflower
feel the leaves of this living flower
pierce and burst
the dews still dreaming
this morning
the glow of the sun from the east
slowly spreading between
the hills
you do not notice
the slow unfolding of this flower
through its red petals
now wanting to
open from the hold of
your fingers
my living flower
blooms today
it is telling the world
what freedom is
and its purity
and its being so temporary...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Living Flower
feel the leaves of this living flower
pierce and burst
the dews still dreaming
this morning
the glow of the sun from the east
slowly spreading between
the hills
you do not notice
the slow unfolding of this flower
through its white petals
now wanting to
open from the hold of
your fingers
my living flower
blooms today
it is telling the world
what freedom is
and its purity
and its being so temporary...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There's people that figure if they hang out with you, all of a sudden they're going to be successes. I've had two or three stalkers in my life.
quote by Dustin Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here She Comes
Here she comes the ghost of venus de milo
A touch of madness streaks through her hair
Shell tear your heart with a poisonous arrow
Shell rob your soul if you look at her square
.......... do I dare?
Here she comes ..... such a beautiful sight
Here she comes ..... oh I wish that I might
Hear she comes the wildest cat in the jungle
A beast of beauty beyond compare
I watch the stalkers stalk but they stumble
The fools rush into vanity fair
............ but shes not there
Here she comes ..... such a beautiful sight
Here she comes ..... oh I wish that I might
And all the green eyed women
Swaying to the rhythm
Here she comes ..... such a beautiful sight
Here she comes ..... oh I wish that I might
Here she comes
Here she comes
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even In The Driest Of The Desert
out there
in the driest part of the desert
a flower still thrives
thin leaves
and tiny petals
stalks like wires
and roots
penetrating the softness
of the sands
out there
it is preaching of hope
resiliency
some flowers are scarlet
deep blue
but nowhere can you find
black
black is the color of death
red is the color of
the wounded sands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Flower
A scent lingering in the
room
has led me to this very bloom.
A scent so fragrant,
A scent so grand,
A scent so strong it could
spread across the land.
A shade of golden-brown
is something that will not make me frown.
A flower so beautiful,
a flower that's for me
makes me bend on this very
knee.
The allure, scent, and attraction
is enough to control my very
action.
Don't worry, she's not only your flower,
she's my flower.
poem by Casey Jarrell
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In Friendship
in friendship
distances
get shortened
and even cut
like stalks of roses
shorn of thorns
only the red
petals and
their sweet scents
stay close in
my heart
still beating
for your
presence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Flaw
I remembered last night.
I told the child
that that was not blood
on our friend's body,
only red flower petals
all wet from the rains,
and to be quiet,
or we would wake him up
and ruin the special dreams
that come from sleeping
under red flower petals.
There is a flaw in the face of man
called war
that begs the question:
does the memory of the dead
hold up the living?
Perhaps sleeping
under red flower petals
will cause me to forget about it.
poem by Rebekah Gamble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You know, I have guys that are almost stalkers... it is very strange. I had this one guy that e-mailed me off my site, and thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend. He then came to my house in London, I do not know how he found it.
quote by Caprice Bourret
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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NIght Feeders
As the light begins to hide from the darkness
and the nocturnes again rise from their sleep.
The creatures of the night shout out in excitement
as those that normally slumber begin to weep.
For they know and fear what is coming
and it won’t be long before they arrive.
No matter where they hide there’s no escape
from those that walk, but are not alive.
As the night noises and howls become louder
the stalkers move closer to their prey.
The sweet smell of blood is what they’re after
and they always get their way.
S
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You And The Flower
you will have a hard time seeing
the pain
of the flowers in the xylem
for
you are always
preoccupied savoring
the pleasures
of your senses to the
majesty of its
petals
the flowers have this
message
for
you
better not taste the bitter
fluids
running within its
system
you take pleasure
and the flower understands this
you too
have all the bitterness
within you
which the flower
has read
in the labyrinths of
your genes
for
it was here before you
come and
then begin to
smell
the scent of its
temporariness
its
secret you
shall not
fathom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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