Regrets reaped
The harvests have been less than seeds sown,
Sometimes nil, land turning barren,
And sometimes lost due to the pests
In the end, each reaps bundles of regrets.
13.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
Whoever sows within the vineyard, neither reaps a crop nor harvests grapes.
Stock market and the goodwill
Seeds selected were good.
The time sown was good.
The time of harvest missed,
The seeds sown went as waste
21.06.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Seeds Of War
When the seeds of war are sown,
hardly is it ever known
who has planted it
and what for?
Was it about
blood and gore?
When the seeds of war take root
it's hidden reasons make us mute.
Why was it planted
and by whom?
Was its purpose
doom and gloom?
When the seeds of war are grown
never is it ever shown
how it is planted
in men's mind?
How it's made them
all so blind.
When the seeds of war do thrive
many will not be alive.
They'll be planted
in false graves.
These seeds propel
how the world behaves.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The weak thrive.
Offence is sown in one
So that one can exist.
Quilt is also sown in one
So that one can retrieve.
So the weak thrive.
13.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Reach Out
If you can reach out across the miles
giving lots of smiles
life will one day reward you.
If you can reach out across the miles
and rekindle a flame
that may have lost its glow
in time the seeds of happiness
will begin to grow
and contentment within
will stand fast with you
for the seeds you have sown.
poem by David Harris
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Fresh Harvests
Neuroleptic liquids
Are dripping from the pipes,
Watering veg'tables
‘Til they're healthy and ripe.
The tranquilizing streams
Rushing in on the crops
Irrigate ceaselessly—
Flowing, never to stop.
All of the fresh harvests
Are kept under control.
Nature has been harnessed—
It's kept under control.
The land is fertilized
With processed compost soil.
The disinfected dirt
Should prevent any spoils.
Sublimated climates—
The seasons are sedate—
Make for better growing
While the plants procreate.
All of the fresh harvests
Are kept under control.
Nature has been harnessed—
It's kept under control.
Stabilize conditions
By commanding the air.
Plow the fields, sow the seeds,
Working so unaware
That calmer, compliant
Production will produce
Pesticide soaked plants
Washed in subtle abuse.
All of the fresh harvests
Are kept under control.
Nature has been harnessed—
It's kept under control.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Gone To Seed
“If you plant honesty, you’ll reap trust”
Aye, the seeds of doubt have been planted,
But such doubts are a must,
If wisdom’s to be granted…..
Seeds of valor, seeds of passion,
Seeds of equanimity;
Seeds that suit every fashion,
Of learning and acuity.
Leaders who sow such seeds of doubt,
Are welcome and accounted,
Than those who’d love to flaunt,
Are ones that are so vaunted.
Where honesty is a truthful story,
Tests one’s heart and mind;
Now enough’s been said of this allegory,
Dear readers: this truth you can find!
Copyright © SC
10th July 2007
Mumbai.
poem by Subroto Chatterjee
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King's biography
Kings’ biographies are seeds sown.
Beggars’ biographies are grains eaten.
Millions of grains are eaten
Against a grain planted.
10.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Milton Read Again (in Surrey)
Three golden months while summer on us stole
I have read your joyful tale another time,
Breathing more freely in that larger clime
And learning wiselier to deserve the whole.
Your Spirit, Master, has been close at hand
And guided me, still pointing treasures rare,
Thick-sown where I before saw nothing fair
And finding waters in the barren land,
Barren once thought because my eyes were dim.
Like one I am grown to whom the common field
And often-wandered copse one morning yield
New pleasures suddenly; for over him
Falls the weird spirit of unexplained delight,
New mystery in every shady place,
In every whispering tree a nameless grace,
New rapture on the windy seaward height.
So may she come to me, teaching me well
To savour all these sweets that lie to hand
In wood and lane about this pleasant land
Though it be not the land where I would dwell.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Will winds come?
Sky was dark.
Holding thick bundles of rain inside
waiting for winds to
open bundles of rain,
take away heavy bundles
and free me to play with
white cool light clouds.
Sky was worried.
Will winds come and free me
from this dark bundles of rain
making me feel tired
making my knees paining?
When will those winds come?
How long I have to carry these dark bundles?
Waiting for winds
will I fall down
with tiring weakening bundles
of these dark clouds
in my hand?
Even the sun is moving down
with colour changing to red
going for rest for night.
When will these winds come?
Am I destined to fall down
tired and exhausted
with ever increasing burden
of these dark clouds in my hand?
10, September,2008
poem by Thomas Viruvelil
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Light Of The Day
hmmm...
Will my love, will my love be unsolved?
Still as I wander, though I'm nearly done
I can see, I can see I'm alone
Time understanding the seeds that I've sown
Understanding the seeds that I've sown
I could see by the light of the day that has gone, oh oh
I could see by the light of the day that has gone
Thinking of days that I whittled away, now they're gone, gone, oh oh
What did I find was there?
Gone, gone, oh oh, now will my heart find where?
hmmm...
I can see by the light of the day that has gone.
song performed by by Kula Shaker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bitter Mead
The burial ground
In the fairest meadow
Turns barren and fallow
NO one seeds the land
With tears
When the faces
On the tombs
Are stone.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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No regrets for the loss
I loved her and lost all for her.
I lost her too and no regrets
As I have lost myself to her.
No lover regrets the loss made.
22.03.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The fertility
Skin, royalty and wealth might be with
birth.
Grace, civility and art comes with
growth.
Without the latter the former will wilt
Like hybrid seeds that grow on barren land.
26.07.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It is only the farmer who faithfully plants seeds in the Spring, who reaps a harvest in the Autumn.
quote by B.C. Forbes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The End of Harvest
'O Love, who walkest slow among my sheaves,
Smiling at tint and shape, thy smile of peace,
But whispering of the next sweet year's increase,-
O tender Love, thy loving hope but grieves
My heart! I rue my harvest, if it leaves
Thee vainly waiting after harvests cease,
Like one who has been mocked by title lease
To barren fields.
Dear one, my word deceives
Thee never. Hearts one summer have. Their grain
'Is sown not that which shall be!'
Can new pain
Teach me of pain? Or any ecstasy
Be new, that I should speak its name again?
My darling, all there was or is of me
Is harvested for thine Eternity!
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Not So Grim
I've heard of a man who harvests life
Swathed in dark, he reaps with scythes
I have no fear of mortal men
But, talks of Grim will tremble hands
Shopping in skirmishes, one-by-one
He assigns a number, one to come
Late last night he came to me
And whispered, "6-11-23."
poem by Chancellor Nelson
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Golden Reapers
Jeramiah always hides behind,
A virtual salad of AKA'S.
A Beau to a few shadows.
His writing, just a demonic phase!
Is he Christian-No never?
I mean idenity fraud is a,
Common crime.
'I know', that is to say -
That he has,
Done Pen Time.........
He is a Remote Control Stick.
Street-Wise-Computer-Guru Shiek.
He hacks and Hi-jacks,
And stalks those he,
Cosiders to be meek.
Just a common thug for hire (Unplugged) .
And credit card abuser.
A burglery enhancer
A cocaine user.
His mind is in
Bits and pieces.
His violent seeds sown to keep
A CK Bowen Flunky
Golden Harvests
Are n'er his to reap! ! ! !
poem by Theodora Onken
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On The First Of Seven's Night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
for the world, ag'n christmas sight
on the first of seven's night
when the light of heaven is light
it's the world of two thousand seven bright
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
see, she is smiling in alone
ah! in love she is gone
'n' now she has got the tone
to say! to wish a new morn..ing
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
oh! it's the hit of 12'o clock
but who are they in morning flock
look it's you 'n' that is me
in between it's bond of thee
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
hey! who is playing these notes so cute
it must be octaves from lord krishnas flute
no! on the first of seven with the rythm inherent
a boy to a girl with the happys of heaven
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
and you! what are you doing over here
go to the fields and harvest your share
my blackberrys ripen with the dawn of the sun
hares and birds may already be having there fun
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
poem by Amit Ranjan
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Mid-September Sun
Dry and ripening:
sea flat and shining
like burning glass.
Gulls floating
like ducks on a giant's pond.
Small Coppers, Blues and Hairstreaks
playing
like blown leaves
in parched grass.
Victoria plums,
blackberries.
This is the turning
of the year
when all that is thought of as ‘there'
is found to be ‘here',
when harvests are collected,
lifetimes are inspected,
(next time's cosmic seeds selected)
and the traveller sees fear
in his handful of dust.
(In his handful of dust) .
poem by Brian Taylor
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