My Wound
In this garden
I tend my wound
Prune my memories
Water my loves
And travel countless miles
Beneath a careless sun
poem by Guillermo Veloso
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
We have a Little Garden
WE have a little garden,
A garden of our own,
And every day we water there
The seeds that we have sown.
WE love our little garden,
And tend it with such care,
You will not find a faced leaf
Or blighted blossom there.
poem by Beatrix Potter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thousand Miles of Water
Thousand miles, miles of water,
running down beneath the running sea,
for when the time comes,
for when the time comes,
we will live freely beneath the shy.
an-na-na-na-na-na wowowo
for when i think of you think of you,
you will see what i what i see, and
be with me.
an-an-na-na-na-na wowowo
kiss me now kiss me now,
you will see what i feel..., so
kiss me now kiss me know,
let the fire burn wild and... free, so
run away with me and see what i see.
an-an-na-na-na-na wowowo
Thousand miles, miles of water,
running down beneath the running sea,
poem by Sergio rodz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When You Define A Thing
when you define
a thing, you limit it,
it is like fencing
your garden
the garden becomes
a set of exclusive
flowers, and anything
not like it becomes
a weed, and anything
that moves
becomes a pest
it is not that you
do not define, we do
it sometimes
only to understand
the limits of
understanding,
but we must be open
to other possibilities
of a garden,
a garden of stones
a garden of sand
of mud, of water
a fountain, a garden
of winds, of clouds
a garden of memories
like a poem
for instance, a garden
of words,
words with arms open
to the magic
of further creation
words still trying
to define themselves
in the garden
of the unknown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Holloween poem
She loves to move alone over cold water,
She knows to move over the dark, cold water;
She loves to toss a coin into the cold, dark water,
To know it is lost beneath the water,
To later know it alone beneath the dark water.
Under the city, in the dark,
Water flows over perpetual rock.
She knows her tower above the city,
She loves to hover over the city, to see
The marrow pulse and glow, she knows
The death moan of the city, how it jewles,
How it counts, how it stretches over the shuttered provinces,
To the farthest border.
Under the city, in the dark,
Water flows over perpetual rock.
She is a ghost in the air, an Ariel;
She tells the screamers till there is silence,
She silences the wolf and the seal, the fouled horse;
She stares the hollow to remorse, to
Recall the cold, the dark, she loves
To move alone with the dark, cold water.
Under the silk-crack, the skyscape,
Under the cry-field, the tool room,
Under the city, in the dark,
Water flows over perpetual rock
poem by Rozen Maiden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Less’er Love, And A Rose, In My Garden
I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times
…at times I have lesser love
And in less is more, very much more
…………….and there is this garden
..the garden, ours by the Grace of the Life Force, supreme God
..there is this Rose, and those Roses there… all chose a place to be
I, the Gardner choose the blooms from which Rose goes to the glass next my bed
I love this Rose, and less but similar those other
….they decide when to bloom
In sping late winter their souls weep, as I sheer, as I must
In spring and summer and early winter we rejoice as they bloom abundantly
…..every night one bloom from The Rose that’ad also chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen
I am gardener…. I prune, sheer… at times
…..only one Rose reads to me… I a lesser Gardener
Lesser, cause I’m only able t’love one Rose…..this Rose here
….those Roses there, some’r lessor Roses, some’r superior Roses, are my friends
Lesser in texture, shape and fiber and fragrance
Some superior in texture, or shape and or fiber and or fragrance
Friends equal in dimension with the Rose, but less in love than the Rose
…..every night one bloom from The Rose, that’s chosen me
in the glass of water next my bed read to me, and comfort me
the delicate-, bewitching fragrance the bookmark for tomorrow night
I love that Rose as my chosen
I, the gardener…. I prune, sheer…. at times
These other Roses who chose my garden
...so valuable in a muchness o’ Friendship,
…the quality their love much the same as that The Rose
Different the lesser my love, even though my caring equals that towards The Rose
We are blessed, those of us in the garden
…the magnificence of this garden in my life is the sumtotal of you all in my garden
I drink your fragrance intoxicated with love
I love The Rose, and my friends these other Roses in the garden Bless this love
poem by Johan Fourie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The girl with the sun in her hair...
The westerly wind blows gentle across the meadow,
Thoughts of her stampede throughout my mind,
Memories imagined of a dream living within a dream,
We frolicked careless beneath the summer sky,
Sunlit buttercups held beneath her chin all aglow,
The aroma of summer permeates the very heart of me,
Strawberry fields of memories warming my soul,
That moment when hearts touched etched into infinity,
Reminding me of sunlit days and careless abandonment,
We were the sun and the wind taunting one another,
The pure beauty of that moment shall live evermore,
When I held the girl with the sun in her hair...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
Dedicated to a friend...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nobody Loves Us
Nine times fined
Never mind
Things can only improve
We are just stood here
Waiting for the next great wound
And we just cant wait to make more mistakes
And to fluff our breaks, and to stuff our faces with cake
All in all, imagine this :
Nobody loves us
Dab-hands at trouble
With four days of stubble, we are
Never loosen the grip on our hand
Call us home
Kiss our cheeks
Nobody loves us
So we ... oh ... we tend to please ourselves
People think all we do
Is lie around and think of how
Rich wed be if we didnt think
Life could improve
And we just cant wait to make more mistakes
And we just cant wait till the whole thing blows up in our face
Call us home
Kiss our cheeks
Nobody loves us
Dab-hands at trouble
With four days of stubble, we are
So, never loosen the grip on our hand
Call us home
Make our tea
Nobody loves us
So we ... oh ... we tend to please ourselves
Call us home
Tuck us in
Nobody wants us
Dreamers and schemers
All pie-eyed, and bog-eyed, and cross-eyed
Oh, never loosen the grip on our hand
Whack us, then
Hug us hard
Nobody loves us
So we ... oh ... we tend to please ourselves
And we just cant stress, oh, how more the mess
And complete distress wont make much difference to us
Sing us our
Favourite song
Nobody loves us
Born-again athiests
Practising troublemakers
Make us our
Favourite jam
Nobody loves us
Useless and shiftless
And jobless
But were all yours
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
God's Garden
God made a beatous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said: 'To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowerets tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end.'
Then came another master,
Who did not love mankind,
And planted on the pathway
Gold flowers for them to find.
And mankind saw the bright flowers,
That, glitt'ring in the sun,
Quite hid the thorns of av'rice
That poison blood and bone;
And far off many wandered,
And when life's night came on,
They still were seeking gold flowers,
Lost, helpless and alone.
O, cease to heed the glamour
That blinds your foolish eyes,
Look upward to the glitter
Of stars in God's clear skies.
Their ways are pure and harmless
And will not lead astray,
Bid aid your erring footsteps
To keep the narrow way.
And when the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
That leads you on to heaven.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
40 Miles From the Sun
There is nowhere left to hide
There is nothing to be done
No people to be saved
No pets we've never names
40 miles from the sun
As darkness craves the mind
We come undone without our pride
No time on the earth to come
All the pleasures just begun
40 miles from the sun
In our coats beneath the layers
Wash my skin of all the hate
We should sleep late
Everything just kind of grates
40 miles from the sun
40 miles from the sun
40 miles from the sun
I need to lose to make it right
I'll confront the stars tonight
I will babble I will bite
You will never know how much you shine
40 miles from the sun
40 miles from the sun
40 miles from the sun
song performed by by Bush from The Science Of Things
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In the Garden, With My Father
It is spring.
As in my garden, I stand.
In the garden -
My father is there;
... though long since gone...
He IS there.
I tend to the weeds,
The veggies and flowers...
He is there.
I never understood him
(as I should have, could have) ...
Until now,
Here, in the garden.
Where I, like he, work the soil.
I've come just recently
(these last few years)
To enjoy and love my garden so.
- I am not as surprised afterall, as I would have thought,
To find him here.
Here, in the garden.
He loved his garden very much.......
I - at that early age of restless youth - had no use
For such slow moving things.
But now, I see, and myself move, at a much slower pace.
Therefore, it is him I am here and now able to see,
In the garden.
Watching it all grow, so peacefully.
It is somewhat sad, that now,
When I can no longer tell him,
I understand.
For I have come to find... I love the garden too,
Just as much as he;
And we both always will.
My father - standing in the garden -
I now know.
After all these long years.
And I've missed him so;
But, how wonderful to find,
He IS here...
In the garden, our garden,
Always, with me.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Play with Yourself
Reality means shaking the dust off
Love tries to break the fallow ground
Water of life flows amidst the granite
Our moments can easily die
Prune your garden
Prune your heart
Choose the new day
The old weeds grow
Doubt wrestles with beginnings
Does the magic feeling last?
Does she really love me?
Am I capable of love?
Cow webs
Baggage
Where did last night go
The kids are crying
Bills
Dishes need to be done
Romance is a distant call
Soon the moon shall come again
Another one night stand
Lust is so much easier
The hope of love more than the real
Who wants to work on a relationship
Fantasy as sweet as a movie
Maybe I am to cynical for real love
To old and set in my ways
Like riding a bike up hill
It's easier to play with yourself
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Water Of Life
Meaning of Water Of Life:
We all tend to forget what it means to have water in life and that what life is all about. Water that we use today for every works of life but yet still how many people appreciate Water. Drinking Water pro-long the human life spern but some of us tend to neglect it.
Whatever you do in life you need water,
Attaining to the water of life you have to show
That and prove that you need that water.
Edurance is important as you go along in becoming a
Righteous one.
Often times we strive but at the same time
Forget about the teachings and guidiance of our maker.
Lifting Him up is all he ask from humans but we ignore that, why
Insufficient instructions that the leaders of the world (Christian) mostly
Forgetfully intend for others not to know about.
Enforcement on his side will make us believe.
By DJones.
poem by Dalton Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Destiny
How many miles will I travel in life?
I can't begin to guess.
No matter how many miles I go
I never will obsess
on whether they're hard or easy for me.
I'll just keep moving ahead.
And when those miles become to hard
I'll rest upon my bed.
I'll think about how I traveled those miles
and where they led me to.
Most of those miles I traveled in life
I could not have done without you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flesh Wound
We flew over miles of ocean--be prepared.
I don't have the faintest notion who'll be there.
You underestimated; nobody sympathized.
I think you'll soon feel better once we get inside.
I see the door is open -- Why don't we walk right in?
Let's put our party hats on and let the fun begin!
We should have called and said that we were on our way;
Who would have ever guessed that you'd be so unreachable?
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in my side
Just another flesh wound--another wonder-cure that you tried
Just another flesh wound--another scratch on your hide
Just another flesh wound--another irritation you abide
You know the rumour's going that he was synthesized.
And if we had to dress, I wouldn't be surprised.
I say -- you're so outrageous -- you'll go to number one!
They'll have us both arrested for having too much fun.
Just another flesh wound--another scratch on your hide.
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in your side.
Just another flesh wound--another bruise on your pride.
Just another flesh wound--another paranoia that you hide.
And when she held her nose, she took an underdose.
It was nice to see her completely comatose.
You go first, you're completely debonair;
Let's go dutch -- it's only fair.
Just another flesh wound--another thorn in your side.
Just another flesh wound--a minor injury you dignified.
Just another flesh wound--another unsuccessful suicide.
Just another flesh wound--another curse that you ride.
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Pierrot
Pierrot stands in the garden
Beneath a waning moon,
And on his lute he fashions
A fragile silver tune.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
He thinks he plays for me,
But I am quite forgotten
Under the cherry tree.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
And all the roses know
That Pierrot loves his music, --
But I love Pierrot.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Green Fingers
People have gardens, both large and small,
Whilst flat dwellers have no garden at all.
Some people love to surround their homes
With comical-looking, little garden gnomes.
A few gardens boast fantastic water-features,
Or a large array of stone, woodland creatures.
To make their garden nice, some folk really do try,
Whilst other gardens really are a sight for sore eyes.
Some folk really wish their garden was just not there,
And, about them, they, very obviously, just do not care.
Without a garden, some people would feel really lost,
And they keep them looking nice, whatever the cost.
Some people are blessed: they have green fingers,
And, in their gardens, for hours, they love to linger.
When some people pull on their gardening gloves,
They tend their gardens with such heartfelt love.
People love to spend their time sowing seeds,
Trimming their hedges, and pulling up weeds.
Some tend flower beds, upon bended knee.
Some grow delicious fruit upon their trees.
The gardener's nightmare is the garden pest:
To eradicate them all, they do their best.
Some people love to escape to their sheds,
Where they can think, and clear their heads.
In their gardens, people love to spend time,
But they like it best, when the weather is fine.
When all of their gardening chores are done,
Some people love to sit and relax in the sun.
Time spent in the garden, always really flies;
The benefits of gardening cannot be denied.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tending the Garden
Grandmother dug into the earth saying
'men, family, children
are like tending to the garden.
First, you have to have good seed
and good dark earth.'
I used to help her tend the garden
on my Sunday visits-a patch in the
back of her house.
'Get a good fertilizer, find the right spot,
location matters in all this,
bad location
the family, the children, the wife, the men
don't do so good.
Plant the good seeds of decency.
Tell the truth, work hard,
don't get mean
and cynical,
love peace,
help your neighbor.
Simple, really.
Then you find what each plant needs.
Some like a lot of light
some like shade,
then afternoon or morning light,
Each is different.
And have to take the time
to find out what works for each.
And you water your damp ground
til that first little leaf comes up,
pokes up its little head
looking at the first light of its life
of its first day.
That feels good.
And then you water it,
let it know it is welcome in this world,
that someone cares.
And you tend to it.
Keep the weeds away,
the ants and the snails,
and big feet trampling
and it grows,
til you have your first bud
that flowers,
and the branches get sturdy,
and supports more and more of the buds,
and then the early flowers,
and then the full blossomings.
Pretty soon you have your garden,
and you teach your kids,
and your grandkids how to keep
it flowering;
like that
generation after generation.
Of course you need the Son,
the Father too
and the Holy Ghost
.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Rose
A ROSE, as fair as ever saw the North,
Grew in a little garden all alone;
A sweeter flower did Nature ne'er put forth,
Nor fairer garden yet was never known:
The maidens danced about it morn and noon,
And learned bards of it their ditties made;
The nimble fairies by the pale-faced moon
Water'd the root and kiss'd her pretty shade.
But well-a-day!--the gardener careless grew;
The maids and fairies both were kept away,
And in a drought the caterpillars threw
Themselves upon the bud and every spray.
God shield the stock! If heaven send no supplies,
The fairest blossom of the garden dies.
poem by William Browne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Prune - prune businesses, products, activities, people. Do it annually.
quote by Donald Rumsfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Death Sea
I am travel
a deep sea.
Along along
dream a he.
I show only water
and the sky-sun.
Air blowing slowly slowly
water boat run.
I show sunrise
and the sunset.
After noon on the high
sun on the head.
I am travel only one
god and are pear.
AM i looking sea beauty
only my earth.
I am travel, along here.
poem by Ashim Pandit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!