051011D Try Harder
small yellow flags over asphalt
giving direction for tire tracks
very strong smell of newly laid
rain would be really welcome
yes, it will be hardened quickly
run-off might be harmful to river
for every good things we get
we suffer a certain degree
maybe health or environment
how safe could be breathing
exhaust pipes or flower's pollen
you're lucky if reach retirement
poem by Manonton Dalan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
After the Lotus Flowers Have Opened
Lotus flower open after west lake good
Carry wine come time
Not use flag pennant
Before behind red curtain green canopy follow
Paint boat punt enter flower deep place
Scent float gold cup
Mist rain small small
One piece pipes song drunk in return
After the lotus flowers have opened- West Lake is good.
Come for a while and bring some wine,
There's no need for flags and pennants,
Before and behind, red curtains and green canopies follow.
The painted boat is punted in to where the flowers are thick.
Fragrance floats round golden cups,
Mist and rain are so, so fine,
In a snatch of pipes and song I drunkenly return.
poem by Ouyang Xiu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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I Walk A Nameless River
I walk a nameless river
One which collects water from the houses,
The streets and such,
A river of rain that carry small sticks,
Cigarettes butts and, bits of paper
A shadow river that moves pap like rocks
A river trapped in the street cars’ tracks
A river rushing past ants and praying mantises
Against butterflies and worms that comes up and leave
Body tracks in the mud.
A river fed by puddles and cracks; indents in the sidewalks
By downward slanted driveways and situated front yards
By small streams on window glass and streams down sycamore trucks,
Maple, oak and such.
A cleaning river of gutterized rain,
A leaf drooping rain of green things,
River of no name
Too thin to carry twigs
Easily distracted by my foot
Easily stagnated into a nameless pond
When the sky has dried out.
I walk a one street river
A shallow river of clinched fists
A narrow river of butterflies in the nameless sky
A concrete river of feet saturated against the maple rocks
A river of bodies coming up leaving a river of cracks
A river of cigarettes of worms of sycamore trunks, oak
Marble and such.
A thin river of destruction, of gutters and traped tracks
Of sticks collected among themselves like dead praying mantises
In the rush of houses and driveways stacked in the water
Of a small rainy sky.
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Back of the Real
railroad yard in San Jose
I wandered desolate
in front of a tank factory
and sat on a bench
near the switchman's shack.
A flower lay on the hay on
the asphalt highway
--the dread hay flower
I thought--It had a
brittle black stem and
corolla of yellowish dirty
spikes like Jesus' inchlong
crown, and a soiled
dry center cotton tuft
like a used shaving brush
that's been lying under
the garage for a year.
Yellow, yellow flower, and
flower of industry,
tough spiky ugly flower,
flower nonetheless,
with the form of the great yellow
Rose in your brain!
This is the flower of the World.
poem by Allen Ginsberg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why can't we...?
River flows
Only in one direction
And knows its destination
Yet,
Those by the banks
Thrive and prosper
Why can't we be
Like the river?
Tree bears fruit
And gives shade
For none in particular
Yet
Knows not its fruit
Or its shade
Why can't we be
Like the tree?
Rain rains
For earth to regenerate
The seed to sprout
And plant to bear leaf
Yet
Knows not the life
It recharges
Too many hands
On too many things
Do we have desiring
Name, fame and bounty
And suffer
We end up in
Rain of tears
With no shade to protect
We flow direction-less
Allowing our core
To wash away!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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I Will Be
Mmm...
The world seems so cold
When I face so much all alone
A little scared to move on
And knowing how fast I have grown
And I wonder just where I fit in
Oh the vision alive in my head
Oh yes
I will be
Strong on my own
I will see through the rain
I will find my way
I will keep on
Traveling down the road
Till I finally reach my dream
Till Im living, and Im breathing
My destiny, yeah yeah
I cant let go now
Even when darkness surrounds
But if I hold on, yeah
I will show the world
All the things that you never expected to see
From little old me, this pittsburgh girl
And I wonder just where my place is
Close my eyes and I remind myself this
Oh yeah yeah
I will be
Strong on my own
I will see through the rain
I will find my way
I will keep on
Traveling down the road
Till I finally reach my dream
Till Im living, and Im breathing
My destiny, ohh
It comforts me
Ooh it keeps me
Alive each day of my life
Always guiding me
Providing me
With the hope I desperately need
Well I gotta believe
Theres something out there meant for me
Oh I get on my knees
Praying I will receive
The courage to grow and the faith to know
That I will be
Strong on my own
I will see through the rain
I will find my way
I will keep on
Traveling down the road
Till I finally reach my dream
Till Im living, and Im breathing
My destiny
song performed by by Christina Aguilera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lone Yellow Flower Waves In The Open Fields
lone yellow flower
waves in the open fields
bowing according to the tune
among the sea of green;
lone yellow flower has no one to blame
and it seeks none to praise
for it knows all life comes in
when the conditions are right;
lone yellow flower knows
death comes in like the wind;
lone yellow flower
is never alone
for it is a part of the expression
of the earth and time and the universe;
lone yellow flower sees what is before and around
lone yellow flower observes what is within and about
and so lone yellow flower lives with no delusions
no beliefs of heaven and hell
fears none and does not live or die
to please or amuse or appease;
and lone yellow flower
blossoms and shines
and shrivels and ceases
in harmony
with what actually is;
lone yellow flower
waves in the open fields
bowing according to the tune
among the sea of green
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A good job is more than just a paycheck. A good job fosters independence and discipline, and contributes to the health of the community. A good job is a means to provide for the health and welfare of your family, to own a home, and save for retirement.
quote by James H. Douglas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning Flags
they're burning flags again....
sit down stand up protesting,
cracking heads like eggs,
yolk running down on hallowed ground....
they're burning flags again...
soldier boys coming home
to no work, living in cars,
no help, without a country...
they're burning flags again...
your sister died giving birth.
your brother-in-law cant get work,
making meth in the tub...
crying at night 'neath a picture
of Jesus hanging on the cross....
they're burning flags again...
small town football heroes
in prison cells learning
to live outside the law....
they're burning flags again....
and the words of Jefferson
fall in the empty rooms
where justice and equality lived....
they're burning flags again!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Canary Yellow Canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - my yellow canoe
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
The eastmain, coppermine, back river too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - yellow canoe
I want to run rivers in my canary yellow canoe
The desmoines river, rupert river, george river too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - mellow yellow canoe
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
Chebugema, peace river, resolute too
In my canary yellow canoe
In my canary yellow canoe - my elephant too
I want to go tripping in my canary yellow canoe
Churchill, yellowknife, ross river too
In my canary yellow canoe
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'll miss the rain.
Of all the things
That my senses have given me
Of all the sensations I’ve had
Be they pleasure or pain
Of all those experiences
The most missed will be
The soft patter of raindrops
Upon my windowpane
The eccentric rings
Raindrops make on the river
The concentric tapping on
Tin roofs above
Are only a few of the things
That rain can deliver
And are only few of the things
About rain that I love
Of all the things in the world
To feel, have, or to see
The thing I’ll suffer most
In the world will be the pain
The pain of never being
able to hear It… or be in It
Above all things, I’ll miss the rain…
Especially…the rain
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lichtenberg
(New South Wales Contingent)
Smells are surer than sounds or sights
To make your heart-strings crack--
They start those awful voices o' nights
That whisper, " Old man, come back! "
That must be why the big things pass
And the little things remain,
Like the smell of the wattle by Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain.
There was some silly fire on the flank
And the small wet drizzling down--
There were the sold-out shops and the bank
And the wet, wide-open town;
And we were doing escort-duty
To somebody's baggage-train,
And I smelt wattle by Lichtenberg--
Riding in, in the rain.
It was all Australia to me--
All I had found or missed:
Every face I was crazy to see,
And every woman I'd kissed:
All that I should n't ha' done, God knows!
(As He knows I'll do it again),
That smell of the wattle round Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain!
And I saw Sydney the same as ever,
The picnics and brass-bands;
And my little homestead on Hunter River
And my new vines joining hands.
It all came over me in one act
Quick as a shot through the brain--
With the smell of the wattle round Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain.
I have forgotten a hundred fights,
But one I shall not forget--
With the raindrops bunging up my sights
And my eyes bunged up with wet;
And through the crack and the stink of the cordite
(Ah Christ! My country again!)
The smell of the wattle by Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Degree In Life
There are some people
both old and young.
They’ve done something once
and the next minute they know all about it.
They say they have degrees in this and that.
In the biggest degree of them all
they have all fallen flat.
With the degree of life,
you first have to live it,
before you can get awarded that.
You have to suffer all
the indignations and pains
that there are there,
all the joys and the happiness,
triumphs can share.
You have to look into
the darkest soul
and know what goes on in there.
As for those who say they know it all,
those are the ones who have just stopped wetting the bed.
You’ll never have that degree
until you start living
and stop saying the world loves me.
Some say I’ve taken drugs.
What the hell has that got to do with it.
It only goes to show one thing,
how weak minded you are.
It isn’t a mark on the degree of life.
A degree of life measures
how strong you are in mind
and not how many
hallucinations you’ve had in your head.
14 December 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tire Tracks And Broken Hearts
(andrew lloyd webber/ jim steinman)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
Recorded in 1998 as part of the 'songs from whistle down the wind' project. the lyrics are from careful listening.
Another aimless day, another useless night
I want peroxide hair, i want some neon light
I got a new life waiting, i can't wait to begin it
The thing that gets me down, being young in this town
Is there's no future in it
I want a fine perfume, how 'bout a blue corvette?
If there's a slower death than living here and now
They haven't found it yet
I need a man who knows what i'm really worth
And i don't give a damn about life after death
But i gotta get some proof that there's a life after birth
Tire tracks and broken hearts, that's all we're leaving behind
It doesn't matter what we lose, it only matters what we're going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, let's get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
I want a push-up bra, i want some satin sheets
Give me some real rich food, i want some succulent sweets
I want you by my side, you'll be all my own
I don't know what i want half the time, but i know know
That i don't want to spend another minute alone
Tire tracks and broken hearts, that's all we're leaving behind
It doesn't matter what we lose, it only matters what we're going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, let's get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
(do do, da do do, da do do, da down down down)
Those good girls never know what they're missing
But us bad girls almost always do
And what we're missing most are the real good times
I want them bad and i want them now
I was born going faster than the limits allow
I want it bad and i want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
Faster than the limits allow
Right here, right now!
Tire tracks and broken hearts, that's all we're leaving behind
It doesn't matter what we lose, it only matters what we're going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, let's get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
I wanna show you what i want you to do
Where and when and how
I want it bad and i want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
I wanna show you what i want you to do
Where and when and how
I want it bad and i want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
Tire tracks and broken hearts, that's all we're leaving behind
It doesn't matter what we lose, it only matters what we're going to find
Tire tracks and broken hearts, let's get away from the past
So many ways to stay hungry baby, so many ways to go fast
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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