Lackluster Poet
I don't want
to know
anymore
dangerous men
better
a flower
with a bird
eating pollen
from my head.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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Related quotes
The Rose of Midnight
The moon is now an opening flower,
The sky a cliff of blue.
The moon is now a silver rose;
Her pollen is the dew.
Her pollen is the mist that swings
Across her face of dreams:
Her pollen is the April rain,
Filling the April streams.
Her pollen is eternal life,
Endless ambrosial foam.
It feeds the swarming stars and fills
Their hearts with honeycomb.
The earth is but a passion-flower
With blood upon his crown.
And what shall fill his failing veins
And lift his head, bowed down?
This cup of peace, this silver rose
Bending with fairy breath
Shall lift that passion-flower, the earth
A million times from Death!
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is The Details, Be Aware, And Then Be Creative
he could not believe you
when you enumerated all the parts of the flower
what he meant perhaps was only a petal
how it smells at six o'cock in the evening
when you are with him but you said, in all completer
scientific details as follows:
the flower is made of its:
1.Petals are used to attract insects into the flower,
they may have guidelines on them and be scented.
2.Stigma Is covered in a sticky substance that the pollen grains will adhere to.
3. The style raises the stigma away from the Ovary to decrease the likelihood of pollen contamination. It varies in length.
4.Ovary This protects the ovule and once fertilisation has taken place it will become the fruit.
5. The Ovule is like the egg in animals and once fertilisation has taken place will become the seed.
6.Receptacle This is the flower's attachment to the stalk and in some cases becomes part of the fruit after fertilisation e.g. strawberry.
7.Flower stalk Gives support to the flower and elevates the flower for the insects.
8.Nectary This is where a sugary solution called nectar is held to attract insects.
9.Sepal Sepals protect the flower whilst the flower is developing from a bud.
10.Filament This is the stalk of the Anther.
11.Anther The Anthers contain pollen sacs. The sacs release pollen on to the outside of the anthers that brush against insects on entering the flowers. The pollen once deposited on the insect is transferred to the stigma of another flower or the same flower. The ovule is then able to be fertilised.
he could have been sad. He wants the poetic sense of things
not the scientific, realistic approach
to something, like a flower,
the symbol of his love for you.
You busy yourself, without feelings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Gibberish
Many a flower have I seen blossom,
Many a bird for me will sing.
Never heard I so sweet a singer,
Never saw I so fair a thing.
She is a bird, a bird that blossoms,
She is a flower, a flower that sings;
And I a flower when I behold her,
And when I hear her, I have wings.
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Faith Flights To Flower Heavens
heart muscles surrounded in a reservoir of blood
pollen call is rainbow pot of gold to El Dorado
vessels of golden one flower air in fertilization
flights seed flowers in colours shapes miraculous
heavens ablaze with colour shape smell lure scent
heaven promise nectar pollen rewards await joy flight
heaven wing tips away thick bee hair pile insulation
heaven journey flights thick pile warm in cold weather
bumble bees fly flight build up electrostatic charge
flowers well grounded pollen lured electrostatically
attracted compelled to bumble bees pile when lands
pollen covered bee enter flower heaven charge pollen
pollen charged priority preferentially attracted to stigma
stigma better grounded than other parts of visit flower
wealth amassed pollen all mother load easy pick treasure
bumble bee pollination gifts life to seed crops wildflowers
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also the poems ‘Flights Of Impossibility’ and ‘Pollen Call Is Rainbow Pot Of Gold To El Dorado’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Flower Obsession
I, a bee
buzz, land, flee
Climb in your flower
Swap sweet pollen
Flower Child
My flower obsession
Self-forgetfulness
....Gentle smooth touch
Of flower petals,
Swallowing the kiss,
An angry buzzing bumblebee
Fluffy and painted
Like in a thousand colors
Leaving the pollen
On the fingertip,
Inhaling the pollen
For tasting the flower,
Sitting in that field of daffodils,
Yellow daffodils,
For dreaming love
Until self-forgetfulness,
For waking up,
The dew shining on the leaves,
The breast caressing,
Tasting the milk,
Caressing the skin,
Long hair touching
The increasing beard
And the flower flavor,
Flooding the mouths,
While kissing
And bearing all these....
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Flower and Bird
Amongst the lonely branches of a tree,
Stood a lovely flower fragrant and free,
She was the sight of every passer-by,
'What a beautiful flower! ' people would cry.
The flower in the prime of its youth,
Couldn’t identify life and its real truth,
Proud by its fragrance and beauty it stood,
And thought that beauty was what made it good,
Impressed by its beauty a little bird would sing,
The tale of its love and the whole valley would ring,
Perched on the branch of the great oak tree,
The bird sings its love for the flower to see,
People would stop and look at this tale,
Of the beautiful lady and the gallant male.
And one day the bird let its heart out,
And the beautiful flower refused with pout,
The bird wanting its beloved’s heart,
Asked her, 'What do I do so that we don’t part? '
And the proud flower told the lonely bird,
'There is a flower down the valley, have you heard?
Its brilliant red, is said is more beautiful than me,
So dear bird, make me red, as red as I can be! '
The bird said, 'But your beauty is no match,
So beautiful are you that my heart, you did catch! '
The flower in its pride and anger,
Told the bird 'Oh! Don’t bother',
The sadness in its eyes, the bird couldn’t see,
And said, 'I gift the colour red to thee! '
Saying this he pierced his heart on a thorn,
And spilt the blood on her till he was torn,
And the flower indeed did become red,
With the love of the little bird’s blood,
People would stare at the beautiful flower,
And amongst the branches it would hover,
The people passing soon forgot the song of the bird,
But the silent lament of the flower was never heard,
The flower never forgot the love of its bird,
But the melody of the poor bird was never heard!
poem by Supriya Mothay
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Love is like a delicate flower
Love is like a delicate flower.
But no water is needed for its existence.
Only gentle words to feed its roots,
and passion to help it grow.
Trust to help it stand against the breeze
Kindness to carry its pollen far.
And as this flower grows,
so does the wonder of life
never alone will one soul be,
as long as the flower blooms
No frost to shatter its fragility.
poem by Ben Littlechild
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A Gardener cries in the Autumn
When a bee flies from a flower to another flower
collecting pollen,
I can feel the flower's depression.
But she never says; 'leave me alone'
and she always bloom.
Blossom, I thought you are everlasting.
But eventually the unchanging rigorous wind
comes from a wrong direction
and he takes you away,
where a place call far beyond infinity?
Dedication to the poetess / friend Melvina.Germain
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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On This Date
i still remember
how is it to stay in a room
and lock it for a day or two
not watching TV
neither talking to a friend
nor eating anything
early fasting for an early
black bird
nesting on my head
i agree with you
there is no amount of comfort
no flower or cloud
can sway my lips to smile
it was bitter
something so hard to swallow
time is a comforting mother
nurturing a child
crying in the wilderness
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode to a Bumble Bee
I sat and watched a little bumble bee
as he dashed from flower to flower,
collecting pollen here and there,
then he would fly off to his hive somewhere,
to help produce more honey.
That busy little bumble bee.
(7 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
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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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Ay De Mi
O bird, that used to press,
Thy head against my cheek
With touch that seem'd to speak,
And ask a tender 'yes' -
Ay de mi, my bird:
Ay de mi, my bird, my bird -
Ay de mi, my bird.
O tender downy breast,
And warmly beating heart,
That beating seem'd a part
Of me who gave it rest -
Ay de mi, my bird:
Ay de mi, my bird, my bird -
Ay de mi, my bird.
poem by George Eliot
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Primrose Dance
Skirts like the amber petals of a flower,
A primrose dancing for delight
In some enchantment of a bower
That rose to wizard music in the night;
A rhythmic flower whose petals pirouette
In delicate circles, fain to follow
The vague aerial minuet,
The mazy dancing of the swallow;
A flower's caprice, a bird's command
Of all the airy ways that lie
In light along the wonder-land,
The wonder-haunted loneliness of sky:
So, in the smoke-polluted place,
Where bird or flower might never be,
With glimmering feet, with flower-like face,
She dances at the Tivoli.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Eating Alone In A Chinese Restaurant
all my life i never imagine myself eating alone.
there is something detestable i think when a person eats alone.
either he is selfish to have to share a conversation with someone else
or that he is shutting himself away from this world where each must belong
to someone else, lest one can be branded as another scrooge
before Christmas, a misanthrope, a man who has no capacity to relate to
another human being, or even with a pet dog, or cat, to join him eating
in a restaurant.
i have seen some who eat alone in a Chinese restaurant, their eyes fixed on
the other customers eating alone too, sipping the bird's nest soup with the sound of a pig or a big bird, as though eating alone becomes a socially
acceptable action. I do not bother asking them, why they eat alone and look
stupid with their lonely eyes, falling faces, less hair, and protruding teeth.
then i start to eat alone by myself. I look at the passers-by one rainy day
through the glass window of the restaurant. I enjoy the noodles and the
sweet sour pork and the bottomless red tea and the jasmine rice.
i tell you, it did not take that long really to learn to live my life alone.
after you left me.
It is this eating alone in a Chinese restaurant which taught me. And now i am beginning to like it.
Sans love. Sans anybody.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Contrary to popular belief, the most dangerous animal is not the lion or tiger or even the elephant. The most dangerous animal is a shark riding on an elephant, just trampling and eating everything they see.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Are Like A Flower
You are like a flower
Growing in beauty
Nature has its own way
Making you uniquely
So I’ll wait until the day
You sprout with love
Because anything less
Would not be enough
You are like a flower
Strong with the wind
Never giving up your roots
You grow and never let loose
Should I protect you anymore?
When the strength you have
Is already within you
You are like a flower
Giving off good qualities
Selfless and fragrant
Keeping yourself steady
You know something new
Comes out everyday
You are like a flower
You attract attention
With your good look
You are sensitive
It is what makes you strong
Though you can be easily plucked
You fight for your life
You decide what is what
You are a like a flower
For a flower is honest
What you see is what you get
You stand out like a flower should
I will remember how gentle you are
A flower in need of love, you are set
Because even if you are all these
You are soft and delicate
It’s my pleasure to make sure
That nothing changes it
My Flower
poem by Joshua Gilchrist
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Ignored. (a Seagull Story)
Ignored. (A seagull story)
At the seaside restaurant it was busy everyone was eating lobsters,
I tried to catch the waiters’ eye. I was ignored and got the feeling
that I was Invisible, or that I was so small that my head didn’t reached
over the table. A seagull landed on my table a beautiful bird,
yellow beak and feet, plumage snowy white its wings light grey/blue
and its eyes were green; it also had the aroma of the Atlantic Ocean.
Waiter came, looked at the bird asked what it wanted, lobster, I said
when the dish came I gave it to the bird. Got up, left and no one tried
to stop me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A flower
A flower, a flower
wont anyone give me a flower?
But no one stops, no one listens
I am no more than a shadow calling out
though shielding away from the light
Afraid to be hurt more than I have been
Searching for someone to help
but find nothing but refusal and hurt
A flower, a flower,
wont anyone give me a flower?
But no one looks, no one cares
I am drifting now
afraid to ask anymore...
Wouldn't want to ruin their beautiful day
with my dark cold heart
-Goodbye now
poem by Angelic Warrior
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A flower
A flower, a flower
wont anyone give me a flower?
But no one stops, no one listens
I am no more than a shadow calling out
though shielding away from the light
Afraid to be hurt more than I have been
Searching for someone to help
but find nothing but refusal and hurt
A flower, a flower,
wont anyone give me a flower?
But no one looks, no one cares
I am drifting now
afraid to ask anymore...
Wouldn't want to ruin their beautiful day
with my dark cold heart
-Goodbye now
poem by Amélie Peace
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