Black And White Flower
I saw the black and white flower at night
that lighten up my sight
The flower told me all the truths
When nobody else could see through
Now I see people for what they really are
I see the real and the fake
No matter how they try to cover up or
what they are and say
Cause that flower told me
there is no black
There is no white
there is only gray
Kayla Mitchell
poem by kayla B. mitchell

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The Black Rose Flowers
In front of my house I have a little land
Not a wide land, just half meter and six meter widest
I had build it for put or take the flower pot
There is three flower pots
This bought my wife from flower tree salesmen
In the morning, when my wife cleaned away the land from garbage, grass
I told her I want to build the flower garden in my village
My wife angry
You have to arrange this house before build the garden far away from here
I told her, just dreaming
I haven’t money anymore
It just a plan, if I have a lot of money
My wife keep silent
She continue to clean away the land
Clean away the land from grass and garbage
And give her read, yellow, white
blossom
In front of my house
But I never saw
the violet and black colors
If I have the rose black color
of course my wife will be glad
But I never saw
the violet
and black color
and spread their aromatic
Could I smell
Among their thorny
Prasetya Utama, Ciluar, Bogor 07/04/06 13: 10: 01
poem by Prasetya Utama

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My Little Flower White
Out of my little window, In the green meadow
Grows there right, my little flower white
Be it sunlight or the moonlight
My little flower white, always shines bright
Red or blue, rain or dew,
My little flower white, I love you
poem by Titus Menezes

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Sad Flower
I was walking through a flower garden
and this beautiful flower laid over looking so sad.
It drew me closer i just had to know why?
As bent over and put the flower in my hand
my eyes got rushed with this intense light!
Then i could see with pure delight
what made the flower so sad.
A lady name rush was there before me
and held the flower in her hand
and give a kiss and told the flower i love
you.
Then she was gone
with a mighty rush of wind
for the beautiful flower has been dethrone
poem by Randy Hogan

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White Flower
White Flower
By: Adam M. Snow
Let bloom my lil white flower;
for you, my love will shower.
You're still but a seed;
I can see you're full of creed
You are also young;
there's nothing left unsung.
You are my lil white flower;
you shine this very hour.
You are gentle to the touch;
you mean so much.
You're the reason why;
I refuse to die.
You are my lil white flower;
for you, my love will shower.
poem by Adam M. Snow

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Flower - Flower Love
flower - flower love
flower - flower love
I come with flower and love
into your life that's full of hope
flower - flower love
I bring you flower and love
as a truth of my heart that never drop
I am a butterfly for you
with blackish orange in colours on me
I will never fly away from you
and never stop watching over you
for
flower - flower love
you are my flower
and you are my love
poem by Juahta Sitepu

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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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Black And White
I took my baby
On a saturday bang
Boy is that girl with you
Yes we're one and the same
Now I believe in miracles
And a miracle
Has happened tonight
But, if
You're thinkin'
About my baby
It don't matter if you're Black or white
They print my message
In the saturday sun
I had to tell them
I ain't second to none
And I told about equality
An it's true
Either you're wrong
Or you're right
But, if
You're thinkin'
About my baby
It don't matter if you're
Black or white
I am tired of this devil
I am tired of this stuff
I am tired of this business
Sew when the
Going gets rough
I ain't scared of
Your brother
I ain't scared of no sheets
I ain't scared of nobody
Girl when the
Goin' gets mean
(L.T.B)
Protection
For gangs, clubs,
And nations
Causing grief in
Human relations
It's a turf war
On a global scale
I'd rather hear both sides
Of the tale
See, it's not about races
Just places
Faces
Where your blood
Comes from
Is where your space is
I've seen the bright
Get duller
I'm not going to spend
My life being a color
Don't tell me you agree
With me
When I saw you
Kicking dirt in my eye
But, if
You're thinkin'
About my baby
It don't matter if you're
Black or white
I said if
You're thinkin' of
Being my baby
It don't matter if you're
Black or white
I said if
You're thinkin' of
Being my brother
It don't matter if you're
Black or white
Ooh, ooh
Yea, yea, yea now
Ooh, ooh
Yea, yea, yea now
It's black, it's white
It's tough for you to get by
It's black , it's white, whoo
It's black, it's white
It's tough for you to get by
It's black , it's white, whoo
song performed by by Michael Jackson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Numbered Poem
2. the mantle is heavy in white.
3. the white cup is not fuming.
4. the lover does not come tonight.
5. an empty vase keeps a shallow
6. conversation with the black clock.
7. there is no flower to brighten
8. the night without a tryst.
9. it is the black clock that ticks
10. time.It is this lament. A cup
11. without tea. A vase without
12. a rose, a daffodil, a white lily.
13. the black clock ticks. There
14. is no hint that it will stop.
That big shell knows it all.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Look at this!
I saw a flower and it was gray.
I noticed the sun was out of the way.
Clouds were in its way.
But then it got sunny again,
and the flower was blue, purple, green, yellow,
clear, and yellow.
It was a pretty flower.
I looked at it and I told my mom that she should come and see
the beauteful flower and she thought that it was too.
The flower was very very very very very
very very very very very very very very very very
very very very very very
very very very very very pretty. And I looked and I looked.
And this is a very long poem,
Like a long day of thinking of good ideas to write this
really really really long poem.
Good-Bye forever!
Once There Was A Flower
i like this to be as simple
as this:
once there was a
flower
a very white flower
blooming
in my garden
and once there was a bee
a very busy bee
getting nectars
from the flowers in my
garden
except from that very white
flower
in my garden
the bee died
the flower died too
and they never really lived
happily everafter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Come Back As A Flower
The starngest thought came to me on this morning
As I awake to greet the coming dawn
The sun was hardly peaking through the garden
It felt that with everything I was one
Then I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
As a flower
How I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
To spread the sweetness of love
To spread the sweetness of love
The dew had finished making love to many
A rainbow smelling sweet was in the air
I envied all the silence I saw growing
So unmoved by things outside themselves
Then how I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
As a flower
How I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
To spread the sweetness of love
How I wished that I could come back as a flower
Oh as a flower
As a flower
How I wished that I could come back as a flower
As a flower
As a flower
To spread the sweetness of love
To spread the sweetness of love
(background)
Wished that I could come back as a flower
Flower
Flower
Wished that I could come back as a flower
Flower
Sweetness of love
How I come back as a flower
Flower
Flower
How I come back as a flower
Flower
Sweetness of love
Sweetness of love
song performed by by Stevie Wonder

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black and White and Red
Black and White
And Red I see
Demons they do
Torture me
Black and White
And Red all day
The voices are real
Or so they say
Black and White
And Red abound
I'm lost I call
I'm never found
Black and White
And Red flow out
I scream but you
Don't hear me shout
Black and White
And Red so bright
Exit blood and
Enter light
Black and White
And Red of death
Now I breathe
My final breath
poem by Anonymous Ghurl

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A Black Rose
A Black Rose,
Glistening in the rain,
A sign, a symbol,
An insignia of loss,
It’s the Flower of Darkness,
Lying in wait on this cold winter night,
It represents the beauty of despair,
The grace of defeat,
The feelings we all find hard to bear,
The millions of people that have all loved and lost,
All behind this flower that holds us aloft,
Within its petals we drown our grief,
With its stem we clutch to what’s left of life,
Within its thorns we spite those who have set us so
And within this dark flower we find our peace,
The power to let go and leave the loved lie,
So with this flower we sign our hearts,
We accept our everlasting love,
And move on,
A Black Rose,
Glistening in the rain,
Ill forever love you,
Ill never lose hope,
But until you come back,
Here’s a Black Rose,
For my love…
- The Black Rose
poem by Andrew Rose

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I Picked A Flower
I picked a flower from a bush
And I loved it so
Put it in a vase next to my bed
But how was I to know
That the flower cried for its bush
That the bush cried for its flower
But how was I to know
That the flower would die in an hour
The flower withered away
And I put it inside my book
Because I loved the flower so
But how was I to know
That the flower gasped for breath
That it was facing death
But how was I to know
That the flower so badly wanted to go
And I kept the flower close to me
So that every day I could see
But how was I know
That the flower that I had loved so
Had always hated me
That there was pain I couln't see
And how was I to know?
poem by Shobhita Singh

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White Orchid
There is a flower that resembles
A flitting moth in fleeting flight
So fair its name has launched an island
To natives' ever new delight
It is a flower that compares with
White doves in panoramic sight
It's purer than fresh snow in winter
Fair inspirations to ignite
There is a flower kings and nobles
Into their palaces invite
To beautify their lavish ballrooms
From breaking dawn to deepest night
As lovely as is the white orchid
I'll never own this bloom outright
Yet as I dream in my small chamber
Faith blooms in ever spreading light.
poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

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Poisoned Thorn Apple
I have love a thorn apple flower,
Which is scentless and very cute white flower-
But it is full of poisoned.
I have decorate my home only by this flower
Take care it every moment by my over capacity and
Forget all everything for this flower.
I don’t know when some poison
Have scatter in my whole body.
It has make me Mad,
It has make me homeless,
it have make me alone,
It has make me hungry,
It has make me sleepless,
It has made me guard in dark night.
It has make me a dirty boy
On the street.
Oh my thorn apple flower!
poem by Shahin Mallik

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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

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Flower waste
In zoo...
Monkey smile
The rose flower...
Kiss the flower...
Play the flower...
Flower was cry to ask
' o...monkey what
are you doing...? '
Monkey say for flower
' i love you flower...
your soft...
your nice...
your smooth...
very impress for me...
so... i love you....'
Flower say fore monkey
' No.. no... nasty monkey
i did not love you...'
Monkey very angry
So...
Bite the finger
For flower through away...
And lough...
Flower is wastage
For sample...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar

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Queen Anne's Lace
Her body is not so white as
anemone petals nor so smooth--nor
so remote a thing. It is a field
of the wild carrot taking
thefield by force; the grass
does not raise above it.
Here is no question of whiteness,
white as can be, with a purple mole
at the center of each flower.
Each flower is a hand's span
of her whiteness. Wherever
his hand has lain there is
a tiny purple blossom under his touch
to which the fibres of her being
stem one by one, each to its end,
until the whole field is a
white desire, empty, a single stem,
a cluster, flower by flower,
a pious wish to whiteness gone over--
or nothing.
poem by William Carlos Williams

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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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