Green Grasses
Green beautiful grasses
Where lands the butterflies
Green grasshoppers just hopped
Greedily shining beautifully to be alive
Looking deeply in ones gazing eyes
And don't know how to say goodbye
Or tell ones flesh never to smile freely
With these green grasses
That smiles with a dog tooth
For flesh makes grasses ever green.
Green beautiful grasses
Just doesn't feel right
Growing on a burial ground
Across ones head
Having no yesterday,
And no to-morrow.
Forgetting thoughts, taught, time
Forgetting fortune, life and love
Lying at peace
With grasses growing all over ones head
Green beautiful grasses
Where I lay when I rise to the morning sun
Stretching legs during the burning ray
Forgetting about death or life
Feeling an angel
Angels cherish a background
Looking so beautiful,
A sight to see
A scene to show
How deep is a love….
written by: Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
© 2012
poem by Onyekachukwu Vincent Onyeche
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Ode To The Green Grass Of Summer
green green grass
spreading slowly on the path
of my feet
treaded upon
such green beauty
covering once
this dust, this mud,
this plain expanse
of ugliness
i sing the song
of green green grasess
spreading thinly on
the pavement
grasshoppers
and ants and some worms
yes, the green green grasses
are still their home
patches of earth
from far
you may see
this stitches
of moss
a landscape
of this earth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Green Grass Of Your Home...
they are the silent witnesses
of my first love
those spreading green grass of your home
away from mine
when we first kiss and when we finally made love
sweet juices flow on such blanket of green
so fresh then warm...
they shall be the same silent witness of my last breath
those wilting grasses of your home
away from mine
when we finally part and when the wreath is placed
above my home
away from yours
the elegy shall be said and the dirge shall be played
and the wilting grasses shall have heard
the sounds of my
final rest.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Green Things Growing
O the green things growing, the green things growing,
The faint sweet smell of the green things growing!
I should like to live, whether I smile or grieve,
Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing.
O the fluttering and the pattering of those green things growing!
How they talk each to each, when none of us are knowing;
In the wonderful white of the weird moonlight
Or the dim dreamy dawn when the cocks are crowing.
I love, I love them so - my green things growing!
And I think that they love me, without false showing;
For by many a tender touch, they comfort me so much,
With the soft mute comfort of green things growing.
And in the rich store of their blossoms glowing
Ten for one I take they're on me bestowing:
Oh, I should like to see, if God's will it may be,
Many, many a summer of my green things growing!
But if I must be gathered for the angel's sowing,
Sleep out of sight awhile, like the green things growing,
Though dust to dust return, I think I'll scarcely mourn,
If I may change into green things growing.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Year 2012
Green hope green road green field green dream
Green green grass of future
Dhamma is distinguishgedly seen in the world
Wonderlands of future generations
peace, harmony and wisdom
love for humanity
rebirths of democracy
cool breeze of mind
building morality of tomorrow
a beautiful mind
Beautiful minds
a beautiful mind
Beautiful minds
a beautiful mind
Beautiful minds
The world is a beautiful place to live, to meditate and to contemplate
For the purpose of keeping truths alive and fight for undaunted wisdom.
A Natural Green
Who coloured the green trees?
Who coloured the green grass?
Who coloured the green hills?
How about my green spider plant? ?
Green, Green, you are so glorious green...
An abundance of beautiful green, not coloured, but just natural and kind.
Makes me wonder how your creation of green came to life....
A ride on a helicopter over the huge Rain Forest and see nothing, but acres & acres of simply gorgeous green!
Green, Green, you are so glorious green...
An abundance of beautiful green, not coloured, but just natural and kind.
Makes me wonder how your creation of green came to life...
GREEN, I admire and respect the vitality you bring in the air that I breathe...
poem by Premila Patel
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Living A Clean Life
the grasses of the garden
are trimmed
and it looks so clean
and neat as it keeps on spreading
its capacity for longing
i wonder if we can be like the green grass
if we can be like the white sky
so beautiful yet true to their nature.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Killer Instincts Of Thoughts....
his thoughts are like
tall, untamed grasses
no one lives there anymore
and everyone is
afraid,
even the dogs, they sniff
a story
of a bitch who went in there
and never
came back, alive.
the grasses are sharp like swords
and tricky like
a mad magician who kills its willing
subjects alive
and escapes in the air like a
whiff of
a sigh
the grasses are alluring, and one white dog
thinking of the bone
and the meat of the jackal
one night
slipped in there like a thief
the sounds of one choked fade
like a denim.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Don't Cry My Green Eyes
Don't cry my green eyes
I'm not that far away
Just close your eyes
and you'll see me
standing there
I'm always here
watching over you
I may not be
around in person anymore
Death can't keep
me away from you
My love for you
is just too strong
I can't stay away
no matter what
I'll be here as
long as I can
Because it hurts me
to see those tears
So please don't cry
my beautiful green eyes
I really want you
to know
That I'm in a
really good place
I'm really happy here
with family and friends
It was just my time
I know you weren't ready
But my body was
just worn out
I tried to hold on
so I could see you again
It wasn't meant to be
Don't cry my green eyes
I'm always here with you
Always in your heart
one of your most
treasured memories
So please don't cry
my beautiful green eyes
(written in loving memory of my grandpa Raymond Eugene De Vasure. (Love u and miss u))
poem by Grace Hays
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Back To An Old Place
it is summer
scorching summer
season creeping,
grasses are wilting
trees are shedding of
their last leaves,
what i see are bones
of trees,
skeletons of
branches,
the dry wind keeps
blowing the leaves
away,
what i have is this
bald surrounding
emptied of their
essence
beyond me are
brown mountains
vultures are
in the skies
eying for
death as prey
i sit upon a rock
the only rock
left here
i have no cover on
my head
i am half naked
i have no one to talk
to,
they have left this
arid place
a long time ago
i am back
i am telling the
sand soil,
i have something
to write and
tell the world
about it
it is summer
in this vast desert
a long time ago
this was ours
and the trees are green
grasses verdant
butterflies flutter
and innocently
land on our
hands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Monroe Louisiana
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
So green, green
Wet-luscious green and alive
So green after the rain
So bright green and clean
Just passing through
On my way to tomorrow
But so green today and yesterday
It was on that stranger's green, green farm
And I didn't stay long
And I didn't expect someone
To fire that shotgun right next to me
The barrel pointed out the front door
Into that green, green world beyond.
There were hot springs
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
Back in 1973.
poem by M.L. Squier
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Morning Peace
THE sudden sunbeams slant between the trees
Like solid bars of silver. moonlight kissed,
And strike the supine shadows where they rest
Stretched sleeping; while a timid, new-born Breeze
Stirs through the grasses, petulant—her eyes
Half-blinded by the clinging scarves of mist:
Her robes, that tangled through the grasses twist,
Weave as she moves sweet whispered melodies.
O may it be a morn like this, when slow
From a dark world beneath my soul shall go
Through the wet grasses of a purple plain,
Still stretching broader in the cool, grey glow
Of morning twllight: then my soul shall know
That life and love are lost—and found again!
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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The Rim Of Green
Green panties, green roses
green tits, green milk.
Green moon, posies in green.
green eyes, green full lips
green face, cheese, green..
Green around the rim,
green limes can but erupt...?
poem by Is It Poetry
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Green, Green, and More Green
There is green everywhere,
even in peoples' hair.Some
on hands, some on shirts.
There is green everywhere!
Green, green, and more green.
I think I'm going crazy over green.
If you don't wear green you get pinched,
then you'll start to itch.
So many people are obsessed with green.
Green Spring, green air.Green feet, green wheat, green meat.
Green isn't very neat!
poem by Autumn Howard
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Environments
innocence asks,
why is the sky blue
and the grass green,
guilt asks, of blue and green,
sky and grass,
redemption for sinning,
polluting skies and grasses
grey with smog,
why oh why,
is the sky not blue
nor the grass not green
poem by Shimon Weinroth
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Green Eyes Blue
Green Eyes Blue
Waking with warmth in my heart and your golden body next to me
A smile on my face morning upon morning
Minds eye scanning memory of every touch, sound, sight of you
The feel of your arms around me, the sweet smell of your breath
And from above…searching me, are your Green Eyes Blue
Eager new flavors, smells and touches brings new joy
Desire for love and hunger for flesh bring these gloves off to touch you
Lips wet and breathes quiver and our legs tangled tight
I want for nothing but your Green Eyes Blue
This woman is awakened by your touch and inspired by your goodness
The fire once thought dead now stoked by your careful hands
Beautiful man of mine holding my heart as we are afloat in this life
I am safe with you beside me as we become lost in each other
My heart is lost in your Green Eyes Blue
poem by Ellie Cook
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In The Rainy
In the rainy, in my village
It`s good to see
Green grasses around,
Corn fields looking green
With rice plants growing
Vegetable plants are with flowers and fruits,
In morning and evening
Dew on grass, on leaves
Looks like....
Clouds sail,
Cover the blue sky
But when it rains
Changes everything,
Thatch roofs as waterfalls
Let the water fall down
Making some sound.
Dragon-flies move here and there,
Sit on a grass
And challenge one to capture
But when a hand moves
It flies far and again
Sits there to joke.
poem by Satyabrata Barik
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Mr. Green
Green leaves tell you
How green your mind is,
Wide boroughs tell you
How broad your mind is,
Velvet grasses tell you
How soft your hair is,
Clean water ponds tell you
How your tears are,
White clouds tell you
How your floating thoughts are,
Birds in group tell you
How you enjoy friend’s company,
Peacock tells you
How you dance in rain,
Lion tells you
How to react with pride,
Deer tells you
How you enjoy your freedom,
And environment tells you
How you can become Mr. Green.
poem by Biswajit Ganguly
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High and Low
The grasses green of sweet content
That spring, no matter high or low,
Where’er a living thing can grow,
On chilly hills and rocky rent,
And by the lowly streamlet’s side
Oh! why did e’er I turn from these?
The lordly, tall, umbrageous trees,
That stand in high aspiring pride,
With massive bulk on high sustain
A world of boughs with leaf and fruits,
And drive their wide-extending roots
Deep down into the subject plain.
Oh, what with these had I to do?
That germs of things above their kind
May live, pent up and close confined
In humbler forms, it may be true;
Yet great is that which gives our lot;
High laws and powers our will transcend,
And not for this, till time do end,
Shall any be what he is not.
Each in its place, as each was sent,
Just nature ranges side by side;
Alike the oak tree’s lofty pride
And grasses green of sweet content.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Green-Eyed Suicide
Green-Eyed Suicide
With life such a blur
Wrists scarred from back to front
This is the life for her
This Green-Eyed Suicide
So beautiful as she breaks
Hurting so much more
With every smile she fakes
Shes feeling like shes lost
There is no other way out
Lately its only suicide
Thats all she thinks about
Covered up in bruises
From the parents who should love
The ones who should hold her
But never show a gentle touch
Alone as far as she can tell
She only has her best friend
Though she thinks no one loves her
And is determined this is the end
She doesn't know I love her
She doesn't know how much I care
Now she never will
For she is hanging there
I wish I could've saved her
Before her days were through
She was my best friend
And I gave the only love she knew
Now she lies so lifeless
So beautiful through my tear-stung eyes
She was everything to me
And now she is a Green-Eyed Suicide
poem by Tatianna Rei Moonshadow
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What Makes The Summer?
It is not the lark's clear tone
Cleaving the morning air with a soaring cry,
Nor the nightingale's dulcet melody all the balmy night--
Not these alone
Make the sweet sounds of summer;
But the drone of beetle and bee, the murmurous hum of the fly
And the chirp of the cricket hidden out of sight--
These help to make the summer.
Not roses redly blown,
Nor golden lilies, lighting the dusky meads,
Nor proud imperial pansies, nor queen-cups quaint and rare--
Not these alone
Make the sweet sights of summer
But the countless forest leaves, the myriad wayside weeds
And slender grasses, springing up everywhere--
These help to make the summer.
One heaven bends above;
The lowliest head ofttimes has sweetest rest;
O'er song-bird in the pine, and bee in the ivy low,
Is the same love, it is all God's summer;
Well pleased is He if we patiently do our best,
So hum little bee, and low green grasses grow,
You help to make the summer.
poem by Marietta Holley
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