The Crazy Garden ('In The Madness You Find An Order')
Have you seen impatiens grow on spikey stems
I have in the crazy garden
Here egg shells grow on cacti
The infamous egg tree you told me about
Here crows use white washed picket fences as serviettes
And metre long lizards tend the ferns
Where the garden lights never come on after dark
So you navigate the pathways by moonlight and birdcalls after 7
Where black monkeys are the upper tree gardeners
And civet cats use the golden cane ladders and
Together with the moon peer at you through holes
In old verandah ceilings
Where elephants are your front gate wardens
And antheriums are only matched by hibiscus
In their pinkness plentiness and placing
Have you played with cotton flower seeds
On evergreen tuft grass?
I have in the crazy garden
You can take the path of 10000 steps, you can stroll
The hedgerows or lay beneath the golmahore tree
Shaded and draped with cascading orange flowers
From an unknown vine seeded in an unknown time
You can invent characters, you can write insane poetry
You can laugh out loud you can cry to yourself,
Count the colours and talk with birds
You can hum with the bees
You can dream because you are allowed to be crazy
Here in India in the crazy garden.
poem by Geoffrey Fafard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Crazy Enough
I am crazy enough to jump off a bridge for you
Even when i have seen you only once.
I am crazy enough to still be thinking about you
Even when i know nothing of you at all
crazy enough to build castles in the sky
crazy enough to imagine you and me
crazy enough to never see
the lie of you
I am crazy enough to stand in the rain
so i might see you once more
crazy enough to follow you home
so i can see you for a while
and i am crazy enough to want to be your
sickness so that you might go unhindered
crazy enough that no pain hurts me deeply
crazy enough that i cant let go
i am crazy enough to want to die for you
and there is nothing known about you
i am crazy enough to want to kidnap you
and watch you grow old in the cupboard of my mind
crazy enough to kill you so i might have you forever
crazy enough to only think
' if not mine no one else's
crazy enough that i might want to haunt you
I am crazy enough to hear what i want
crazy enough to hurt you so i might love you more
crazy enough to offer my soul
for you
crazy enough to want to
be you
i am crazy enough to say that
i don't know you except by sight
but i love you all the same
poem by Selam G. Sekuar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the spring garden
In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Disgarded Garden
Their once was a young man who wanted to become a Gardner. There once was a young Rose Tree that wanted a Gardener. They met each other one summer day and began what seemed to be a beautiful relationship. The Gardner was attentive of his garden along with his Rose Tree and the Rose Tree was so happy that its tender branches grew and it bloomed continuously for the Gardner so he’d always be happy.
As time went by the Rose Tree noticed that Gardner wouldn’t tend to her as much as he once did. And when he did he would cut away harshly at the Rose Tree. The Rose Tree being a simple plant who did not need much attention still bloomed for the Gardner. It seemed the more she tried, the more the Gardner would cut away and the tree was now nestled in the ground. Why could this be? He had a bountiful garden that any Gardner would have loved to have. What more could anyone want thought the Rose Tree.
Now in an abandoned garden the Rose Tree grows back its branches, with very thick thorn’s to protect it self. As time goes by one day, out of nowhere appears a Gardener who has silently admired the Rose Tree from outside the garden gates and begins to nurture the Rose Tree in her garden. He tenderly and sympathetically pulls away all the weeds and brush from the Rose Tree so the air, rain & sunshine can reach her again. Allowing her the opportunity to grow back as she once was; vibrant, strong, colorful and to be simply, herself.
This is something the Rose Tree had long forgotten and is very grateful for the loving words of encouragement and kindness that her new Gardner has shown. She longingly awaits for his visits and when the Gardner comes to see her she bloom’s for him and relaxes underneath his beautifully kind smile. My darling Gardner, I am glad fate has brought you to walk along the path leading to the once lost garden and Rose Tree.
poem by Sarah Barron
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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In The Flower Garden
In the flower garden
The flowers are pink and white
The sky is blue
And it drags along the clouds of white
Friends of mine are waiting for me
Friends of mine are waiting to give me information
and advice
After receiving careful words from my friends
I continue on my way through the flower garden
In the flower garden
I spy my animal friends
A lizard and a bee
Both willing to help me
Either by running along the ground
Flying in the air
Or climbing a tree
Both are willing to help me get to safety
Both are willing to help me to survive
With all the obstacles, snakes, and evil seeds
around
After besting all the enemies
My animal friends and I reach the end of the
flower garden
They've done their job
And for that I'm grateful
I wish my animal friends well
Offering them a warm goodbye
As they make their way back to the flower garden
And leave me to continue on my adventure
poem by Justin Gildow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Last Lovely Rose Of The Fall
Her pink petals lay on the short grass beside the red brick garden wall
By the thorny mother that bore her the last lovely rose of the Fall
White butterflies flit in the garden in the warm sunshine of mid day
And the shrike thrush he pipes on a low branch in his cloak of light brown to gray,
The rose tree has lost her last and her finest daughter next year new roses she will bear
And the rose tree in her flowers does look lovely than her there is none quite so fair
And her flowers they must return to Nature and on Nature's bosom decay
And the rose tree herself sooner or later must return to Nature one day,
The dark willy wagtail he sits on the brick wall his long black tail he wags to and fro
For him 'tis a very good Season on butterlies fat he does grow
Each life form serves a purpose in Nature for one to live one has to die
And what comes from Nature goes back to Nature and the same goes for you and for i
The pink rose petals lay on the grass by their mother on this warm March day in the Fall
And of all of the flowers in the garden in bloom she was the fairest of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Planted A Flower
I planted me a flower
Though my friends say a weed
In my garden from a forgotten seed.
So I planted it deep
And around it I hoed
So someday my flower would grow.
But my flower never came
From the sunshine or the rain
That GOD placed above its head.
And so my friends would just laugh
Every time that they would pass
My garden, my plant and I.
Gardeners were them all
As though they have been called
To bring beauty upon our sight.
And a gardener wasn't I
Just a poet in disguise
And for that reason I sat and cried.
More care to my plant I gave
And more affection to it I showed.
While praying one day my flower would grow.
And my friends would just laugh at me
When they saw me on my knees
And to my flower when they heard me speak.
To ignorance they did blame
Its a weed they would exclaim
Then they would walk away.
For a madman I must be
Trying to create a flower out of a weed
Then I would bow my head to weep.
And every night that I went to bed
I dreamt of a rainbow in my head
Which was my flower I planted with my own hands.
And every morning when I awoke
I ran to my garden, but I was torn
For my flower was still unborn.
And I could hear my friends laugh at me
Hidden behind an old oak tree
And I could see them shake their heads and walk away.
But then came one magic morning
When in my head my dreams were forming
While in my garden, my dream, had awoke.
I awoke, to gasps and jeers
I arose, to shouts and cheers
Then in my garden, I walked in bitterness and fear.
Then I saw a rainbow with a halo
I saw my friends with a child's glow
And then I heard the wind, as she softly spoke to me.
You had faith in a weed,
A weed, had faith in you.
And nature, had faith in you two.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is Crazy
A shadow with me all day
No body
This is crazy, this is crazy
Notes of a scintillating flute
No flutist
This is crazy, this is crazy
Breathtaking verse on paper
I was sleeping
This is crazy, this is crazy
Vermilion laden sky
Sunrise or sunset?
This is crazy, this is crazy
Dishevelled clothes, swollen lips
You came in my dream
I am crazy, I am crazy
Or is this the only sanity? ?
poem by Renu Rakheja
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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The Rose Tree Of Winter
In the cold winds of Winter she stands thorny and bare
In Summer large beautiful red flowers she did wear
The Rose tree of Winter not a pretty sight
At a time of year with litle warmth in the sunlight,
When the birds in the sunlit gardens will nest and sing
She will wear her new leaves and rosebuds of the Spring
As a tree the rose tree does not grow very tall
Compared to most trees she does seem very small
But in her full bloom none as lovely as she
In her cloak of flowers she's a beautiful tree
But in Winter she stands there by the garden wall
Of the garden trees the most forlorn one of all
And though it may still be a few months from the Spring
The white backed magpie on the blackwood tree sing
But without her leaves and flowers prickly looking and bare
The rose tree looks drab in the cool morning air.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wrong House
I went into a house, and it wasn't a house,
It has big steps and a great big hall;
But it hasn't got a garden,
A garden,
A garden,
It isn't like a house at all.
I went into a house, and it wasn't a house,
It has a big garden and great high wall;
But it hasn't got a may-tree,
A may-tree,
A may-tree,
It isn't like a house at all.
I went into a house, and it wasn't a house -
Slow white petals from the may-tree fall;
But it hasn't got a blackbird,
A blackbird,
A blackbird,
It isn't like a house at all.
I went into a house, and I thought it was a house,
I could hear from the may-tree the blackbird call…
But nobody listened to it,
Nobody
Liked it,
Nobody wanted it at all.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crazy Enough
I am crazy enough to jump off a bridge for you
Even when i have seen you only ounce.
I am crazy enough to still be thining about you
Even when i know nohting of you at all
crazy enough to build castles in the sky
crazy enough to imagine you and me
crazy enoughto never see
the lie of you
I am crazy enough to stand in the rain
so i might see you once more
crazy enough to follow you home
so i can see you for a while
and i am crazy enough to want to be your
sickness so that you might go unhindered
crazy enough that no pain hurts me deeply
crazy enough that i cant let go
i am crazy enough to want to die for you
and there is nothing known about you
i am crazy enoughto want to kidnap you
and watch you gorw old in the cupboard of my mind
crazy enough to kill you so i might have you forever
crazy enough to only think
' if not mine no one else's'
crazy enouhg that i might want to haunt you
I am crazy enough to hear what i want
crazy enough to hurt you so i might love you more
crazy enough to offer my soul
for you
crazy enouhg to want to
be you
i am crazy enough to say that
i dont know you except by sight
but i love you all the same
poem by Shayla Bowser
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Marriage Is Our Garden
Our marriage is our garden.
I want our garden to be beautiful.
With lush green grass,
With fragrant and colourful flowers.
A place of solace.
A place of peace.
A place of love.
Our garden must be watered.
Not watered too much.
As that would saturate the ground.
Not watered too little.
As that would leave the plants wilted.
And our grass barren.
But regularly.
So the flowers can stand tall
It must be weeded.
It must be maintained.
It must be loved.
We will plant seeds in our garden.
For new life makes any garden more beautiful and diverse.
We can harvest the fruit trees, but our harvest is limited
If we eat all the fruit too quick,
Then we must wait until the next harvest to eat again.
If we don't pick the fruit when it is right, it will spoil.
Our harvest is for our family.
If I eat all the fruit myself, then they will starve.
If we eat too much we will get sick.
If we eat what we are supposed to, then we will be healthy.
If we do not monitor the fruit,
Then someone might eat more than their share.
If we do not stand guard in our garden,
A thief might come into the garden to steal our fruit.
The fruit for our family.
For their garden must be barren and their crops have spoiled.
Our garden will stand the test of all seasons.
As all gardens do.
Another garden will also experience the same seasons.
Just at different times.
All gardens face rain.
All gardens get sun.
It is the rain that nourishes the garden and helps it's life to grow.
But our garden must be maintained regularly.
Only artificial things require no maintenance.
The artificial has no life.
It is fake, it is plastic.
Our garden needs to be real.
So life may grow and continue to grow.
So one day our children can enjoy a garden of their own.
For them and their children.
May their garden be overflowing with life and love.
And be the most beautiful garden in the world.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nature Trail
At the bottom of my garden
There's a hedgehog and a frog
And a lot of creepy-crawlies
Living underneath a log,
There's a baby daddy long legs
And an easy-going snail
And a family of woodlice,
All are on my nature trail.
There are caterpillars waiting
For their time to come to fly,
There are worms turning the earth over
As ladybirds fly by,
Birds will visit, cats will visit
But they always chose their time
And I've even seen a fox visit
This wild garden of mine.
Squirrels come to nick my nuts
And busy bees come buzzing
And when the night time comes
Sometimes some dragonflies come humming,
My garden mice are very shy
And I've seen bats that growl
And in my garden I have seen
A very wise old owl.
My garden is a lively place
There's always something happening,
There's this constant search for food
And then there's all that flowering,
When you have a garden
You will never be alone
And I believe we all deserve
A garden of our own.
poem by Benjamin Zephaniah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crazy Lady Blue
Lost through a hole in the garden wall
On the wrong side of the looking glass
Call, should you need a companion home
You know you only need to ask
Crazy lady blue
I sympathize with what youre going through
Crazy lady blue
Im crazy just to have you be my love
Hide in the puzzle you call your world
Baby, I know all about the game
Cry when the walls of the maze crash down
Ill come and take away your pain
Crazy lady blue
Someday your head may get the best of you
Crazy lady blue
Im crazy just to have you be my love
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Circle
Like Monet seeing the sun grow in splendor
in color
in rainbows
She is a flower in the garden of moonlight
I am her garland
I am her trial by the tree
Love is an iris
Love is forgiveness
Let the fragrance become melody
We have reconciled
The wet dew upon the ferns
We are the one circle
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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HOW OFTEN...by talile ali
C/F/C/G/C/F/C/G/C
HOW OFTEN DO I STOP AND THINK ABOUT YOU
HOW OFTEN DO I HAVE TO BE WITH YOU
HOW OFTEN IS IT THAT I LAUGH AROUND YOU
HOW OFTEN AM I SO IN LOVE WITH YOU
C/F/C/G/C/F/C/G/C
HOW OFTEN YES THE SKY IS BLUE AMD LAZY
HOW OFTEN WILL THIS SUN COME SHINING THRU
HOW OFTEN WILL THIS WORLD SPIN ON HALF CRAZY
HOW OFTEN, YES I'M SO IN LOVE WITH YOU
F/G/C/F/G/C/F/G/Am/D/G
SO WHAT IF PEOPLE NEVER TALK ABOUT US
SO WHAT IF WE ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN FRIEND'S
SO WHAT IF EVERY WHERE WE GO IT'S CRAZY
SO LONG AS I'M WITH YOU WE'LL NEVER END
C/F/C/G/C/F
HOW OFTEN DO I HAVE TO KISS YOUR EYE'S, BABE
HOW OFTEN IN THIS GARDEN, FAR FROM VIEW
HOW OFTEN DO I NEED TO DRY YOUR EYE'S, BABE
C/G/Am
HOW OFTEN, CAUSE MY SOUL'S IN LOVE WITH YOU
C/G/C
HOW OFTEN, YES I'M SO IN LOVE WITH YOU
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crazy I Think Not
all alone in this crazy home trapped in this room
no one here to talk too
but what i hear a whisperin soul
i am not crazy
the walls begin to make strange faces the devil itself
no i am not crazy
where did these scars come from i didnt do this
it was that shadow of darkness
no i'm definitely not crazy
who is dat woman in the bloody white gown
a slit at the throat the fire in her eyes
i am not crazy
docters come to give me my dosage
dead
cut to pieces
blood every where
my insides are my outsides
they said i was crazy
but i'm not i'm insane
poem by Elena Winters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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112
THIS IS A VERY LONG POEM AND I WANT IT PRUNED:
I used to like gardens, putting flowers on the row,
Tending the soil, cutting the grass,
Removing the weeds,
Pruning the lush greenery of trees
And making the flor-de-luna vines
Create a certain impression
Of a landscape,
A certain motif
A theme of gladness
Something to cherish
I take a good look around my
Little garden
And then I would sit under the shade of flowering champaca trees throwing fragrance
Sprinkling perfume
The neighbors say that the scent of ylang-ylang even reaches their houses
And the white sampaguitas so exuding
I used to dirty my hands putting soil on the flower pots
Designing landscapes of love
And patience, curves and hills,
And tend to all the colors mixing in space,
I used to
I am telling you I stopped
When I married,
My wife comes to my garden
And rearranges everything
She puts what she wants
And pulls what she
Thinks repels her
She cuts the flowers
Puts them on the vase
And uproots some species
That I love
And soon the garden has not become mine
Crowded, and strange
And what used to be my little garden
Green Bermuda grass and patterns
Red Anthuriums heart shaped
Pink Dahlias praying to the sun
Orange Gumamelas dancing in the wind
And yellow dancing ladies beaming with pride
Olive Palms waiving to passers by with all cheers
Violets so assuming
White lilies in pure dignities
Lotuses in meditation moods
Husky Cactuses confident with thorns
Finger Ferns so fine and cool
My garden
Now is a forest
The wanton chaos
My garden is gone
All the patterns changed
Drastically
And she asks me
She asks me
Why I don’t tend the garden anymore
She asks me
If something is wrong
If everything has gone wrong
She asks me if I still love my garden
She asks me if I can begin planting some seeds again
She asks me if I still love her,
AND THIS IS HOW I PRUNED IT:
I like gardens
I don’t tend the garden anymore
I still love her,
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pruning A Very Long Poem
THIS IS A VERY LONG POEM AND I WANT IT PRUNED:
I used to like gardens, putting flowers on the row,
Tending the soil, cutting the grass,
Removing the weeds,
Pruning the lush greenery of trees
And making the flor-de-luna vines
Create a certain impression
Of a landscape,
A certain motif
A theme of gladness
Something to cherish
I take a good look around my
Little garden
And then I would sit under the shade of flowering champaca trees throwing fragrance
Sprinkling perfume
The neighbors say that the scent of ylang-ylang even reaches their houses
And the white sampaguitas so exuding
I used to dirty my hands putting soil on the flower pots
Designing landscapes of love
And patience, curves and hills,
And tend to all the colors mixing in space,
I used to
I am telling you I stopped
When I married,
My wife comes to my garden
And rearranges everything
She puts what she wants
And pulls what she
Thinks repels her
She cuts the flowers
Puts them on the vase
And uproots some species
That I love
And soon the garden has not become mine
Crowded, and strange
And what used to be my little garden
Green Bermuda grass and patterns
Red Anthuriums heart shaped
Pink Dahlias praying to the sun
Orange Gumamelas dancing in the wind
And yellow dancing ladies beaming with pride
Olive Palms waiving to passers by with all cheers
Violets so assuming
White lilies in pure dignities
Lotuses in meditation moods
Husky Cactuses confident with thorns
Finger Ferns so fine and cool
My garden
Now is a forest
The wanton chaos
My garden is gone
All the patterns changed
Drastically
And she asks me
She asks me
Why I don’t tend the garden anymore
She asks me
If something is wrong
If everything has gone wrong
She asks me if I still love my garden
She asks me if I can begin planting some seeds again
She asks me if I still love her,
AND THIS IS HOW I PRUNED IT:
I like gardens
I don’t tend the garden anymore
I still love her,
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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