Food and hunger go wasted
Cheep is she, who I can get.
But to get access, my pride forbids.
The other is worthy to befriend.
But to get her, her pride forbids.
The withered fruits lie unpicked.
The hanging fruits are untouched.
The fruits are in decay.
My hunger is in dismay.
6.11.2000, pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
Eatting Fruits
Eat fruits
Eat...
Every day...
Each
Break fast...
Lunch...
Dinner...
Eat...
Fruits...
Fruits is
Good for health...
Fruits is
Good for Taste
Fruits is
Good for mind...
Fruits is
Good for god...
So...
Fruits is
Good for hole and
Hoe body...
Any fruits...
Any time...
Eat eat eat...
Avoide all all
Disease...
Thats all...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Earl
The frist fruits of manhood and the first fruits of love,
The first fruits of womanhood and the first fruits of love,
And like a warrior rejoicing from wine;
But i am always ready for Earl my lover.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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As many joys as there are pains.
The mango tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
The jack tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
Likewise were a few more trees
That gave me different fruits and shades.
There are trees having given me shades.
I was sad when I left them in sequence.
Each sensation was punctuated by a stroke.
Each parting gave me a heart break.
Unions beget joys and partings, sorrows.
Sorrows follow because joys preceded.
The one who sticks to only one is unfortunate.
19.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As many joys as there are sorrows.
The mango tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
The jack tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
Likewise were a few more trees
That gave me different fruits and shades.
There’re trees having given me only shades.
I was sad when I left them in sequence.
Each sensation was punctuated by a stroke.
Each parting gave me a heart break.
Unions beget joys and partings, sorrows.
Sorrows follow because joys preceded.
The one who sticks to one love is unfortunate.
19.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Fruits Of The Tree
What fruits we have!
Glittering with evil,
To shed innocent blood,
Shining with greed,
And we end in comfort that lasts only a moment
What fruits we bare!
Lost in ambition and passion
That we preach prosperity and success
As if they last an eternity
Swelling with pride that lasts a stint
Fruits of the tree
That the master has planted.
They can choose to ripen, or to stay raw!
They can choose to rot, or to stay ripe!
But, every fruit stands the test of time.
In the end, Ripe with truth and love,
Victory is imminent.
Rotten with deception and hatred,
Destruction waits:
The fruits from the tree of life
poem by Timothy muggaga
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My personal attitude toward atheists is the same attitude that I have toward Christians, and would be governed by a very orthodox text: "By their fruits shall ye know them." I wouldn't judge a man by the presuppositions of his life, but only by the fruits of his life. And the fruits — the relevant fruits — are, I'd say, a sense of charity, a sense of proportion, a sense of justice. And whether the man is an atheist or a Christian, I would judge him by his fruits, and I have therefore many agnostic friends.
quote by Reinhold Niebuhr
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Only one fruit
Fruits is
Not fast food...
Fruits is
Not...
Junk food...
Fruits is
Not...
Bad food...
Fruits is
Natural food...
Not waste
At home eat
Every day
Atleast one fruit...
With your taste...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Fruitless blossom
There were women at different ages
At different stages, with different shades,
Responsible for my springs and blossoms.
They remained as blossoms and withered.
Trees send blossoms in every spring and
Fruits later, though less in proportion.
Women of mine gave me only blossoms
Which fed my nose and left my stomach.
19.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Topsy-Turvy
You would have seen
Flowers bearing fruits.
Have you seen
Fruits producing flowers?
Yes! Nature is made artificial!
How is it? Can you surmise?
It is the art
Of carving colourful flowers
From different fruits!
Nature is turned topsy-turvy!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Following No Rules
...is like going towards a house
on a mountaintop
the trees there have
ripe fruits for the picking
lots of jack
fruits spreading a map
of smell
and you focus your gaze
and you do not know
which way
you follow a scent
a view
and you bow down
to a thick grass
finding your way in there
you are not lost
you are tired
the house is still there
the fruits are about to fall
no one has gone there yet
in your wild
imagination
a native tells you frankly
sir, it is only the top of the mountain
nothing more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Fruits of Mankind
Taste the bitterness of the fruits
that grow and rot within.
They lack the kindness that erupts
and oozes out as sin.
These fruits are part of every tree,
the tree from which they've grown.
They look like all the other fruit
but are different and they've known.
what lies within them is not right
and still they do conceal,
hoping to blend in with all the rest
until the skin does peel.
The tree cannot be blamed for this.
It's just the way things are.
We must discard these fruits to protect the rest
or they will leave their scar.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Mango Tree And The Children
the mango tree
blooms on the month
of May
fruits are heavy
soon
on all its branches
is opulence
Comes June
the children come
with their sticks
and slings
and stones
the mango tree is
hit once again
and all the fruits
fall to the
ground
the children
have all the fun
saliva flows from
tongues
dipping in
salt
as early as that
they know what fun is
by hurting those
that fruit so well
by taking the fruits
beyond
what they actually
need
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The mooning.
How much pain, how much strain,
How much time, how much space,
To plough and grow our courtship,
Knowing it would yield raw fruits.
A guava half ripe tastes as good.
The unripe love is more worth
As to the unborn love.
22.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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In children’s glory
The root toils and takes pride in its crown.
The crown beams but gives no credit to the root.
Birds and animals all admire the crown
For the fruits and the shades they obtain.
They attach least importance to the root.
The root still sticks to the vanity of its pride
As parents take pride in children’s glory.
05.07.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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God cares for all Creatures
The guava sapling planted has grown big;
The tree is laden with ripe fruits many;
How many can I pluck or eat each day?
Lie fruits unseen at heights, I cannot reach.
I see the parrots enjoy tasty fruits;
I see the squirrels gnaw the fine ripe ones;
I see bats with voracious appetites;
And many more fall down by force of winds.
God fills the tree with fruits for each season;
Man cannot eat all fruits the tree can bear;
God feeds each bird of the air with care;
He made them all and that’s the chief reason.
When God can feed His other creatures well,
So many human beings starve to death;
Oh, what a man-made tragedy, we see,
As tons of food goes rotten every day!
God loves all human beings even more
Than all His other creatures whom He made;
Both food and drink turn scarce by acts of men;
Why blame God for our misdemeanor, then?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-3-2008
poem by John Celes
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Green Olive Tree
Green Olive Tree,
Lovely and righteous with your fruits!
But try to remember my name always,
For i am ever ready to pluck your fruits of love and taste them;
Because you are my only hope on this earth! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Under The Mango Tree
i like the idea
of doing many things under the mango tree
like
watching time go by like it is a stranger
and i
am a stranger too watching time pass by
like i am so interested
with what time
can do to me
making me old
making the mango tree bloom and flower and have fruits
and they are so many
that the mango tree bends
to the ground
and time stays for a while and ripens the fruits
and make all of them
in time
fall one by one to the ground
like some kind
of withered flowers
luscious, sweet, fruits of the mango tree
falling
by the slightest passing of the wind
and then the children
come and with all joy
pick them one by one
putting what they can
under
their shirts and still rushing
to keep
and take some more
under the mango tree
all the people
are so much alike
the rushing, the taking, the joy
of always having more
and it will never stop
as i watch time slowly go by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The First Fruits
Once upon the rivers of hope,
Once upon the fountains of waters,
Once upon the valleys of dreams,
Once upon the mountains of love,
Singing as it went through the gardens;
The first fruits of the muse matters a lot.
A message to the walled city,
To it's appointed owners;
No more pain,
No more sorrow,
No more tears,
No more death,
No more crying,
Of the former things gone too soon;
With all things mad anew on a high mountain.
Walk with me in white to know about this story,
Like the potter's vessels;
The first fruits of love is with us all.
In a deep valley,
You should keep the fire burning;
Like brides adorned to their husbands.
To the first fruits of hope,
Like a sickle on the earth;
To the first fruits of dreams,
Like the leaves for healing;
This land of rivers do ned rest.
Life is like the mystery of a woman;
It is noted,
It is written,
It is done!
Like the bride and the groom in the deep valley! !
So, let the first fruits be enjoyable,
And let the artist's pens do judge the mystery;
It's all like a walled city at peace.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Harmony
when the guava tree
showed leaves
we waited for time
for it to give flowers
and then it came
we waited till it
bore fruits and then
the fruits ripened
we waited till all the
ripe ones fell to the
ground
then our hands picked
them all up
and we ate the juicy
sweet pulp and then
we spit out the seeds
to the ground
we swallowed what
fills our thirst and hunger
and the world
smiled
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Vic 9
AND THIS is what i can remember
about Papa,
we go to the farm
and harvest the lanzones fruits
and put them on big kaings
and bring them all
home
nothing is for sale
the family eats together
thanking the Lord for the bounty
then upon invitation
the neighbors come and eat the fruits with us
what God gives him
he also gives in return.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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