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Death Flower Poems | Death Poems About Flower

These Death Flower poems are examples of Death poems about Flower. These are the best examples of Death Flower poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found


Details | Personification | |

The Little Flower

               In the same garden, side by side, two flowers began to bloom,
               One, small and fragile, knew her life would be over soon.
               The other, a boisterous rose, felt far superior to her friend
               For she knew that she would live to see the stars and moon   
               Straight through to summer's end.
              
               The little flower did not have the heart to tell her 
               That longevity can bring pain,
               For who would be there to protect her from the elements, 
               The blistering sun and numbing rain.
               Or perhaps an overzealous lad would clasp her in his grip
               And pluck her petals one by one just for the fun of it. 

               And as the rose rambled on and on about all the delights she'd see
               The little flower closed her eyes to dream contentedly.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Red Roses Fade To Black

Red velvet petals, only I, seduce,
With hidden danger under the disguise,
My fingers feeling shyly, I reduce,
Thorns sharpen, ready, waiting the unwise.

Before me, bleeding poison, I assume,
This flower withered, shriveled the entire,
A dark extracted substance, the perfume,
No beauty, only sorrow, I admire.

Withdrawn I wept lamenting the depart,
A rosebud, crimson, youthful, I erased,
A lifeless flower, never I impart,
nor taken with affection, I embraced.







Written by Kelly Deschler  October 23rd, 2014





Details | Elegy | |

Death In September

The flower face of the sun bloomed on you;
the corona of light

easing the passage, caressing you.
Catwalking on the bright side of life;

the false jollity, aching to laugh.
Embraces, your body in a bowl of arms,

brave waves, the last goodbye.
My own desperate clutching, as if

I were a tree sucking at the sky.
The delicate frosting on my birthday cake -

a sugary irony.
How quickly the coronal of anniversary flowers

became a wreath.
Choking on the three hundred miles

to your resting place,
the car eating the road.

Tension-riddled, the family squabbles
snapped at the air.

Alone in the pristine, starched hotel room,
propped between pillow and sheet,

stiff as rigor mortis,
my eyes ploughing a newspaper,

thoughts turned introvert and febrile.
A white envelope holding the small silver gift

of your necklace, an oyster cradling its pearl.
Your gold ring playing its warmth

on my finger, thin and white,
the September sun shining in it.

A passion flower clinging to its wire hoop,
sweating out the fragrance of late summer.

Defiant and slightly shocking in my bright patchwork skirt;
a vibrant rainbow flying in the black leer of the cortege.

Your husband
easing the great weight of his grief with Valium.

The voice of the vicar carrying,
stentorian, across the echoing expanse of church.

In your diaphanous dress you were a bride
displaying your bouquet -

the mourning arum's white head bowed.
Fine linen shrouding the table, pink curls of salmon,

water glasses floating their tiny icebergs.
Plumbing the depths of your wardrobe,

the outfits hanging limp as fish.
The room gasping in late sunlight,

heady with your Florentyna perfume and oxygen cylinders,
the light lying glassy and quiet.

Your loving memorabilia yielding to damp autumn earth.
My eyes opening to your immortality.  An immortal truth.




Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Rhyme | |

Tender of Roses

Beloved, lovely roses: gift of God and lover’s flower,
Spread your colored petals and cradle tender showers.
While admiring the blossoms with their beauty to behold,
Ought we not to know the Tender of such lovely garden groves?

For He lovingly and thoughtfully wields His pruning shears
To cut away the stems of old for fuller future years.
He cultivates and feeds them. He attends them as a Father
Looking daily to their needs; so faithfully He waters.

From the dawn of morning dew until the setting sun arrays
Caring always for His own until that great appointed day…
When the Gardener comes to claim each one the earth held as its own.
He gently picks it at its peak and for His pleasure takes it home.

As God did one glorious morning, when the Perfect Rose had bloomed.
He rolled away the stone and met with Mary at the tomb.
There the sweetest Rose of Sharon rose that we die not alone.
But be gathered for a garden grove, surrounding heavens throne.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

A Dark Fairy-tale

A Dark Fairytale

As I was chained, I breathe in.
As I was burned, I breathe out.
As I was cut, I looked down.
As I was broken, I looked up.
As I was destroyed, I closed away.
I had killed myself damaging beyond any repair.
To keep myself closed I chain, cut, burned, and destroyed what was within me, isolation my fear around me. But suddenly as I had nearly been kindled to a shivering light, something braver and stronger then I appeared and took me and held me and once again I was fixed and this is what happened; 
Suddenly I breathed in as I was unchained.
Suddenly I breathed out as my burns disappeared.
Suddenly I looked up as my broken body mended.
Suddenly I looked down as my cuts faded.
Suddenly I was opened up and my destruction was nothing more then a dream
As my knight, you entered that shadow and held me now I grow with a unprofaned radiance.
I was held once more, and my soul emerged.
I was spoken to once more, and my mind went blank.
I was kissed and my body reacted without a second hesitation.
And before I could run away once more, I was trapped.
Unlike my prison I lived in a fairytale, in were I don’t want to live this place anytime soon. What happened then and what happening now are so fair apart it hilarious.
 I’ve forgiven the past, not forgotten it. Prove never to make the same mistakes or else be locked back inside that tower I call my mind. 
Let me in brave knight, into your mysterious ways.
Let me in brave knight let me have secret passages into that world of yours. 
Let me in brave knight so I can truly capture you. 
I was as cold as ice even more then winters hail, but you with a ridged past that icier then I could have imagined is as warm as the summer sun and sweet like spring air.
For saving me, for taking my heart, for releasing me, I’ll become everything you want and then more, I’ll stand by your side and hold you like you held me and I shall be everything you need.
My sweet Knight.







Details | Free verse | |

Work

Work.
Toil.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
Corn. 
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
Work. 
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.


©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013


Details | Imagism | |

LET IT RAIN

It's raining today - dreary it may be
The imagery of the raindrops in my view
Dripping !  In my brain I visualize
The dark clouds surrounding me
Thus I see - will there be sunlight
I look, I ponder! I watch and I surmise
the sun may peak in these predominant skies
Mesmerized - sun rays gleam in my eyes
Those beautiful hues - and yet the spectrum
The iris - that beautiful rainbow
It feeds my soul - I look at beauty
And thus blooms the flower - I know
It rained today and thus I say
The gardens grew - if you only knew
I woke - I had beautiful thoughts
Raindrops danced on my life this day
And yes! I saw a bud flourish petals
It's spring - and the rain doth bring
With a little help from the sun , my flower
Blooming in my head I visualize
Look what I saw when I looked at the skies
Imagery in my head, I thought
Imagine it  - and the bird it may sing
Music to my ears - I listen - I see
That spring - it's really blessing me
Enlightened I  saw the dead rose then grow
And I sit, I still ponder , it's roots I know
And the rose once posed- still life - of art
Prominent are the skies to make you wonder 
                                    The rain might start!!!!!
                                        Again & again
Beauteous Be Poesy is my book of poetry available on googles, amazon. com and Barnes & Noble published by Trafford Publishing. wrtten by Miss Stacey Law 


Details | Imagism | |

DARK SKIES

The wind crept up - the skies ever so dark
Black, slick, clouds and calamity enters thy soul
Dreary! It chatters and limbs they fly
No sun upon thy face - beaming with hue
Those clouds they swarm in darkness
Rain - it pours - flooding the earth
Bewildered I look up at this blustering sky
The trees are dead, It's spring - yes death
Roses in the ground with the trickling raindrops
The April showers - You haven't a clue
True grit! The soil now nurtured
The roots - feeding on this phenomena
And yet when the sun shines soon
Day after day - trees will come to life
And roses in bloom- life after winter death
In awe I see this beautiful imagery
In my brain, as I see the pouring rain
My mind - I visualize - the beauty
Thus, why does it expose calamity?
Beauteous be the wonder in my eyes
And how I love those dark dreary skies
A rosebud in my teeth - I see
Is extraordinary and so is the tree
Let there be rain as it nurtures the soil
And with the chatter of the wind, let there be turmoil 
Again in my brain, I can truly love this day
I see life in the rain that is pouring today.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Six empty shells


A blinding sun had made her stare askance;
he walked the distance to converge his fate,
a swirling, laughing wind began to dance 
and jokingly their lives to desecrate.

Replacing the six empty shells he turned
to see her worried glance beyond the blooms,
that innocent embellished unconcerned
the reckless, smiling braves aside their tombs.

The Smith and Wesson forty-fours then bucked,
she knew the blooming noon was ending fast
and nothingness neglected to obstruct
what fates adjudicated to recast.

She saw the brazen shells inside the dust;
monochromatic synthesis and hues
of sepia were blurring in the gust
that swirling sang their lonesome, Tombstone blues.

© 8/7/2014, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic pentameter)

(I include a JPG image of the composition 
on the "about the poem" page because my text spread folds.)


Details | Free verse | |

Birthday Wish

Spring comes,
Bringing novel flowers
To this multicolored Earth, 
A really wretched place actually,
If you know the awful truth about it

Spring leaves, 
Taking some flowers with it, 
Bestowing freedom 
Upon these fortunate plants

Seventeen springs ago,
An ordinary flower blossomed 
On this cursed land.
The worst of all curses,
Life,
Placed on this pitiful plant 
And a fate worse than death

Seasons flew by
And the flower withstood 
The immense force of the elements,
Debilitated by great adversity
Brought by the years 

Now with spring close by, 
If fate shall allow,
Hopefully this spring, 
This dying flower will perish. 
Its roots turned to ashes
And carried by the winds of freedom
To the promised eternal paradise

Rebirth
A garden greets my eyes
With its breath-taking beauty
And my suffering dies


Details | Free verse | |

ripper

he watched her,
lying there in the grass, among flowers,
the cherry petals covering her slowly…
he suddenly realized
how sweet was the shadow
touching her
and each flower gently offering
its tribute of death to her
was no less beautiful
than that wonderful crimson bloom
he himself had helped birth
on her chest…
the nectar of that flower still on his hands
and the ethereality of the cherry-tree shade on his retina,
he wished to grow roots
and draw life from the very earth that she,
his masterpiece,
was slowly
beginning to become


Details | Free verse | |

Life's Wholeness

Life and a living being
can never be separated
See one and you see
the other
Destroy one and you destroy 
the other
Pluck a flower from a tree
and dissect it 
to understand it
You no longer have that flower
as it existed
on the tree
You may have an understanding
of the relationship
between the components
of a dead flower
but you will have forever lost 
the totality of the experience
of the LIVING flower
To see the flower in 
its completeness
BECOME THE FLOWER
and understand a reality 
that can only be experienced
but can never be put into words
for the whole is more than
the sum of its parts


Details | Free verse | |

Evolution of a Flower

Youth Upon my flower I start a bloom My buds come willingly out And about the stem flows water The life breeding source of time I wield time as if I’m the master And my flower holds its precious drops Within my lovely petals, slyly setting Myself up higher than the ground Which holds my flower erect Simply what do I compose myself as If my bloom has not yet developed Straight into the whole bloom myself What do I say to my flower that holds The life of my soul by the water’s edge Where do I groom myself alive To seek the warmth of living As a whole, full bodied entity Where is my truth in life Elder I have seen the flowers traversing From my water bearing bud To my exhausted bloom of life Full of my splendor but fragile Subject to any climate changes And expressly sensitive to the lack of water Which happens more and more During this phase of my tired life I ponder my existence, why now Why do I lean towards death Right at this stage of existence So full and flourishing, perfect, flawless I only seek to live one more day By my beauty, I hope to be free To live with my water, nourishing water To love again, as I did once before Dead No longer am I vibrant, I cease I no longer carry water to my roots I don’t see anything, I feel nothing My roots have all dried up The is no more moisture within me I have no hope of keeping Anyone’s attention, save that of shock The shock of a dead flower before them I shall be removed from this Earth To make room for another bud To come in my place, soon life will return And I will be vibrant once again But now I waste away, to nothingness
Russell Sivey Contest: Talking to Yourself Sponsor: craig cornish 6/21/2013


Details | Lyric | |

Wildflowers


Gently dancing in the sun
Wildflowers grow;
they bloom,
are gone.

With no thoughts,they have no cares;
Yet their lives are gentle prayers.
May I walk in such a way
That I am alive to this day.

So I see with widening view,
And joy and sorrows embrace too.
Then my time will come like yours...
And of us nothing shall endure.

As to the earth our bodies go,
All are one;it shall be so


Details | Free verse | |

When we pour salt on slugs, when we fall in love

How is it I could love someone I could not win back with a poem?
Or that I could not touch with an Iris?

How is it I could ever find something in someone who thinks the moon is hiding nothing!?!
Or think it queer that I look for dead locusts, to hold in my hands, to bring back.

How is it I could love someone, 
who when it’s over will meet me like a stranger in the park to chat about the weather or a movie and salt the Irises at her feet. Like dying slugs.


Details | Blank verse | |

SEPARATION or DEATH

SEPARATION  or  DEATH         by LINSE DAVID V,INDIA

“   These lines are written by dipping 
My pen of sorrow in an invaluable ink pot 
This hot, red ink-you may know -is the 
Blood of my HEART !

You can decide the caption of this poem
By reading it fully-if you can. Because,
It will never come to an end.

The theme of this poem is about the
Sparkling days we spent together

I can’t forget that first sight...
It reminded of our deep bond -
which would have been created even before the
Creation of the Universe!!!

The flower which you gave me first
Bore the fragrance of eternity
The first word you uttered to me 
Did the inauguration of some sweet feelings!
Your sweet smile acted as the-
Fuel of my HEART.

I haven't touched you so far: but you-
Did touch my heart and soul !

At first, we were two parallel lines, but
One magnet made us a straight line

                  **********

Why did we meet?
Was it deliberate?
What was it for?
I Don’t know, I Don’t know, I Don’t know.

                **********

The parting words you uttered painfully 
Did shatter my heart and all...
The flower which you gave me last 
Did really smell eternal grief

At last...
We have become two lines again,
which are going towards two extremes
I can’t forget that last sight, because,
That moment reminds me of DEATH

Death is a separation, but here 
Separation means DEATH for me .....
............, My Beloved. “


Details | Free verse | |

A Bluish Violet Flower

A Bluish Violet Flower

A bluish violet flower watches from the shore of an ancient riverbed
A river born of fire when the Earth was new
Sulfuric air, ground ripped apart from Earth’s upheaval
Chemicals mixed with lightening to create life
Single celled animals and ancient reptiles
And a single plant on the burnt earth
A single plant with a single bluish violet flower
It lived its life with cooling water
Cattails lined the shore
A million flowers bloomed every spring
Fish and turtles swam in its currents
Children played on its shore
Laughing and jumping into the refreshing waters
The waters caressed the bluish violet flower
Giving it life saving moisture
Still the bluish violet flower watched the fish, the turtles and the children
The river long ago died
The riverbed that, from the beginning held life, is still now
Rocks of sandstones and granite create a natural blanket
The only fish are fossils of life millions of years old
That bluish violet flower
The one whose life began when time was young
The one who watched when life began and thrived in a lonely riverbed
It remembers the fish, the turtles, the children and the flowers
That bluish violet flower still watches
It watches the stillness and the silence
And all alone it mourns


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Garden Club Ruse part 1 of 2

For years no one ever had a clue...
Of the secret she hid..no one knew..
The child inside her never shed a tear...
Although she lived everyday with fear...
She grew up never knowing what love was...
Till that fateful day, when he met him on the bus..
He was tall and handsome and had a great smile...
Knew all the words making her feel worthwhile...
They fell in love and soon were married...
And that’s when things changed...the love got buried..
The days were long and the nights were lonely...
They seldom spoke, and if only...
She hadn’t seen that ad...this never would have happened..
Join the Garden Club today and...
 wipe all your cares away 
There’s more to this story..I must conceive...
So please follow this sequel and I believe....
You will stop and think of the words I wrote...
And perhaps even take your own personal note....
	


Details | Personification | |

death 'married' death to death

 
  Death looks at a flower and you screaming, 
I am beautiful, look, look..
look here I am, come and eat me, alive.
Death hovers, smiling, never waiting, walking always 
walking by, walking in side, you knowing that, 
any thing that touches, it will soon also, come to *sigh*.
Death is love, love is death, what are you both, death 
is your pet pink pig and deaths two flying bagged pearls.
Slapping you for ever and ever about your red face.
Death is a dry cracked nipple, sleeping, holding on
to the flesh untill it falls off, still dripping.
Death is a bullet fixed, never moving, why does the 
world move you through it.
Death is a voice always quite, sounding alarms to
walk across the street knowing you look both ways, 
while you come running very quickly out across, 
just to stop in the middle and wait.
Death is a woman, who is crazy, thinking the world is 
spinning into her coffee.
Death to all men who think they can save each woman
by marring death and eating her tuna fish sandwich.
Death fingered you, you loved it, now you finger me, 
leaving my bee exposed on the flower, you buzzed it. 
Death's own flower is always sweet and poignant on you..
It is always open for death to smell..............
and it's red alarms, you ignored... 
still here it comes, never alone....to see you as you really are.... 

Is It Poetry 
 
 


Details | Blank verse | |

The Red, Red Rose

A drop of red in a field of white,
A single red, red rose standing above the snow.
Why it didn't freeze, no one knows,
A patch of hope in the barren land.
A small glimmer of light. 
A single red, red rose.

The last piece of humanity left, 
The last of life the Earth will see.
A single red, red rose above the snow,
The very last of nature's beauty,
Why it didn't freeze, no one knows.
A single red, red rose.

As time goes on, the rose will die,
The light will fade,
The hope will be no more
The Earth will come to pass away,
As the petals, from the rose, are torn,
But for now the single red, red rose,
Stands above the frozen snow.

Unless, the hope can be restored,
With love and care, the rose will grow.
It will shimmer like a light,
And it will spread it's seed,
Spread it's hope.
It will stand above the snow,
And finally, why it didn't freeze,
People will know.

The cold and barren wasteland,
That is covered with snow,
Will become green again, 
And it all started with, 
The single red, red rose
That stood above the snow.


Details | Elegy | |

The Dead Orchid

My spirit walks the graveyard,
The music sickly sweet,
My tomb is coated with my shroud,
Folded so neat.
The flower of the mourners,
Left in the wind,
One stays dry and cold,
The Orchid , the flower of sin.
The sobering touch of autumn,
Sweeping my soul away,
The rain will soon pass,
All I pray is to stay.


Details | Rhyme | |

Roses For Mama

He's drempt of his mama in her garden of love,
surrounded by angels in heaven above.
Peaceful waters flow through a bubbling brook,
where her roses grew in every little nook.
She cherished the roses he had bought for her in life,
capturing their beauty and the colors of their sight.
When she was ill he knelt beside her bed,
and handed her roses with the tears that he shed.
She said don't cry for me it's beautiful over there,
where they climb so gracefully up Heaven's golden stair.
He visits her grave and places roses in her cup,
rest assured with Jesus she forever sup.
The rose bush he planted for her still grows today,
just as it did when Jesus took her away.
No sickness nor pain she can smell once more,
as she embelishes in her roses surrounded by her door.
She said plant you some roses in rememerance of me,
as you stroll through my garden waiting for you I'll be.


Details | Blank verse | |

Poppies had the color of blood

By the time he reached the village
The bells of the old church
Were beating like a heart
In a sick chest


He had the same old obsessions
That a wise philosopher
Used to call extreme ideas
About angels with human faces
God sent to save humanity


All alone
He found himself in the arms of the wind
When she took her last breath
All the sad eyes of heavens
Begun to mourn


On the field near the bridge
Poppies had the color of blood
Like the painflowers
Crowns of sadness
Over a cross


Details | Rhyme | |

Live

Life is a flower that blooms but once
From bud to blossom
Falling petals to bony seed
Then the flower is gone
But is remembered by the seed

Let your flower blossom 
Let your perfume spread
Don’t break the stem
Choose life, why death?

Sometimes I guess things just keep going wrong
Life becomes a gloomy song
Dark clouds and thunder are all you see
‘There can be no hope for me’
You don’t know why you still breathe

There is a valley over the hill
There is a place where you can be still
There can be tomorrow after today
Don’t let today make tomorrow too late

It’s a choice you make
You can have another take
Clear the darkness from your head
Let yourself walk the road ahead

Tomorrow you may have a plan
To today’s trouble you may not even give a damn
Take courage, hold on to today
Troubles come but they also go away
Give yourself another day

It’s a choice you choose to make
You can have another take
The sun that is down today will tomorrow rise again
Live another day and see its light
Why choose death when you can choose life?


Details | Free verse | |

An Ode to Birth and Death

Darkness ended, Winter released her icy grip; budding crystals soon began to drip.

The Earth then tendered, its surface filled with life; Spring now wed to Summer, the
radiant rays piercing the frozen skies.

But Beauty gives way to Destruction and forests turn to tinder.

Here lies the crossroads, an Ode to Birth and Death.

A flower that slowly bloomed left stranded now in late Spring, scorched by Summer’s rays,
but oh its beauty still remains.

It lives on desolate ground. A mind unfolded, it's heart retouched.

And at last outlasted a depression that once did rule. And you the fair Demise, how will
you compromise? When we together win the prize.

Flailing futilely in a sea of lies; the Fountain of Youth was found, its waters tainted.

Perhaps it’s best not to toy with Life and Death.

The Seasons unwillingly shifting, the Sun now in full bloom, and the flower starts to wilt;

Beautiful, as death begins to set, while Summer touched the Earth.

Petals fall away like tear drops on the skin, and light penetrates in a wonderful array.

Ever growing heat, now begins to drain them of life, while petals turned to dust, carried
away in gusts.

Together fertilized, yet unaware, it only dares to bring about despair.

Death gives back again to Life; an early end to a late start.

A new beginning comes from dust and decay, as the Summer sun now fades away.

The burning skies teaming with gray.

Death takes a new form; white, blinding, crushing and consuming.

Oh but gorgeous it remains, In time, life grows again,

Coming from the wastes of a flower that late bloomed.Yet life anew begins too soon.

In Winter’s last grasp, her touch did drain, when frozen ashes did remain;

Here is life’s penultimate breath, the greatest Ode to Birth and Death.


Details | Ballad | |

Narcissus

A snow white flower shines in the soft light of a silent meadow. The words that you speak I shall forever echo. A lost love in the dark of the night. They all look your way, but are you blind? Can you not see the beauty of me? I echo your words, I echo your call; can you not hear the silent voice of me at all? I cannot whisper your name, my voice is gone. Silent I shall ever stay, until you speak again. My laughter shall sneak from my lips, until the last word has been spoken, Silent shall I stay again. Silver snowflakes fall in the glory of the dawn. My words are forever caught up hanging silently in my throat, strangling, dangling horridly on my cold lips. A mirrored reflection stares coldly back at you. The water paints a beautiful picture, golden and shining in the crystal spectrum. Will you fall to the hopeless masterpiece inside? Don't give into the lies that haunt your mind, can't you see that you're beautiful again? Beautiful until the end. You see me standing, afraid to think; so you speak. Can I echo your name? Can't you see that I'm afraid to breathe tonight? I'll always recall your words. With you, I shall never be alone. I won't let you go, though your desire is to be gone. In my heart you will forever live on. Farewell you bid unto the world. Farewell I echo to you. I choke in the invisible tears. The reality kills me as I drink in the truth of my deepest fears. Why Narcissus? Why my true love? Why you? Silver snowflakes fall in the glory of the dawn. My words are forever caught up hanging silently in my throat, strangling, dangling horridly on my cold lips. A mirrored reflection stares coldly back at you . The water paints a beautiful picture, golden and shining in the crystal spectrum. Will you fall to the hopeless masterpiece inside? Don't give into the lies that haunt your mind, can't you see that you're beautiful again? Beautiful until the end. I found a flower near the enchanted pool. You placed it there for me, didn't you? Forever the echoes cry out in my mind. Farewell Narcissus, until we meet again. Farewell, I'll see you whenever my time here comes to an end. Farewell, we shall be together again.


Details | Free verse | |

Widow and the Flower

A flower sits upon the window
the flower sees the reflection of the widow 
as the flower welts and weeps 
the old widow becomes weak

The widow falls onto the ground 
the flowers petals begins to fall with no sound
as the widow tries to rise 
the flower begins to weep in sorrow

The widow starts to cry asking why
the flower wilts and hides 
the widow gets up but then falls to her knees

As the flower starts to fade 
the widow goes pale
Lying there cold the widow held out her hand
a petal to appear with color so bright it looks so alive 

The flower is brown and shriveled
the widow slowly stops her breath
and the petal falls to the ground and it disappears

The flower crumbles with the wind
the widow leaves the earth with no sound 
and no one even cries

Seeing the wilts fly within the sky
People go on with the hope of the day
Widow dies with peace 
The flower spreads its life.  







Details | Haiku | |

Remember





     crimson poppies
     
     sprinkle the fields -

     sorrow


Details | Rhyme royal | |

Nature's flower

Hark! little flower why thou haste,
Hath  thou  not  strived  to  dwell...?
Pity thy clock be brief to taste;
'Tis  soon--- shall  bid  farewell..

Oh, who  art  thou but  a  flower,
Unto  dirt  thou  cometh,
Transfiguration  be  thine  hour,
Thence thou  springeth!

Hark! little flower why thou haste,
Hath  thou  not  strived  to  dwell...?
Pity thy clock be brief to taste;
'Tis  soon--- shall bid  farewell..

Lo! bless'd thou be Flaming lamp,
Thy  life  precipitate,
Thou  shalt  nature  damp,
And call thou to deflate.

Hark! little flower why thou haste,
Hath  thou  not  strived  to  dwell...?
Pity thy clock be brief to taste;
'Tis  soon--- shall  bid  farewell..

Transient  be  nature's  flower,
Awhile thou stagnate,
Be thou burning devour!
Away thou dissipate..

Hark! little flower why thou haste, 
Hath  thou  not  strived  to  dwell...?
Pity thy clock be brief to taste;
'Tis  soon--- shall  bid  farewell..            


Details | I do not know? | |

Red Spring Cherry Blossoms

Finally came upon such beautiful scene where the eyes cannot resist.
With such pure fragrances taking away the sadness and the purpose of life,
Lies under these red cherry blooming trees, the sadness and painful endurance of each falling blossoms.
Each leaves and flowers reminisced of my past.
As the spring passes by, nothing is left behind. 
I pick up the red blossom flower and smile, as the spring vanished,
I faded with the season, shedding the last drop of tear surrounding by red blossoms. 


Details | Free verse | |

A Moment

Morning comes over the roof.
Beams of energy traveling the annals of time
A relentless journey to rest upon my face.
Subtle at first, like the sly fox in pursuit of the hen
Heat builds that burns the dew of a new day
Flowers stretch out their pastel arms
Picking atoms like pollen that stimulates the pistil
Refreshed, shaking off nights cool grasp
I am new, reborn, never to be heard or seen again
Like a child gleefully sliding down the snowy mountain
A grain has slipped thru its lustful form
Looking up, showered in kin
Reunited with deceased ancestors, death is accepted
Hark, in the distance where the sky meets earth
The soft glow of love breaks!


Details | Elegy | |

The Winter Flower




The golden hue of ringing of leafy bells-
so yellow and orange as the dawning sun-
sings a mellow whispering tune that swells
in the air of the thickest wind who sung.
The air of mist bows to the ground-
and morning fog seeps up to the mourning tree.
Mysterious to the depth of the roots who sleeps just down
the trunk of the sturdy crooked tree.
And so it gently slopes in a mourning tune
just over the decaying flower covered in a winter coat-
just as the colors of Antlantic sun set.
And off the limbs of branches the leaves gently float
unto the moral flower as a blanket to an eternal rest.


Details | Haiku | |

Lotus Tree Exposed - Haiku

     Lotus Tree Exposed – Haiku

Lotus falls to earth  
To addictions harvesting
Asphyxiated   


Details | Light Poetry | |

On Chantrelles

In the mountains, 
where the berries grow;

Hides a treasure, 
some friends may know;

Among the summer flowers’ leaves,
Are golden treasures such as these;

If I could choose where I will lie,
When it is time for me to die;

Then let it be a quiet place, 
That these fair beauties yearly grace.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

death 'married' death to death

  Death looks at a flower and you screaming, 
I am beautiful, look, look..
look here I am, come and eat me, alive.
Death hovers, smiling, never waiting, walking always 
walking by, walking in side, you knowing that, 
any thing that touches, it will soon also, come to *sigh*.
Death is love, love is death, what are you both, death 
is your pet pink pig and deaths two flying bagged pearls.
Slapping you for ever and ever about your red face.
Death is a dry cracked nipple, sleeping, holding on
to the flesh untill it falls off, still dripping.
Death is a bullet fixed, never moving, why does the 
world move you through it.
Death is a voice always quite, sounding alarms to
walk across the street knowing you look both ways, 
while you come running very quickly out across, 
just to stop in the middle and wait.
Death is a woman, who is crazy, thinking the world is 
spinning into her coffee.
Death to all men who think they can save each woman
by marring death and eating her tuna fish sandwich.
Death fingered you, you loved it, now you finger me, 
leaving my bee exposed on the flower, you buzzed it. 
Death's own flower is always sweet and poignant on you..
It is always open for death to smell..............
and it's red alarms, you ignored...'Rose' and 'Lily'... 
still here it comes, never alone....to see you as you really are....
Alone........... 

Is It Poetry 
 
 


Details | Lyric | |

to live is to die, to die is to live: Opening

When she opened,
her pollen seeped out and dripped down her stem.
Her petals were stained and warped,
her color uneven
and even her thorns were turned inwards.
But she was dying,
from the moment she opened she was dying.
She died as flowers do –
slowly.
If you have ever watched a flower die,
you would know this.
Their petals droop, turn dry and curl up towards themselves,
their heads sag,
their leaves fall off
and their stalks shrink in the direction of the earth.
She was no different.
But as this process occurred in her fragile body,
there was,
at the point where this particular flower met the rest of the plant,
something brewing.
Just the spark of an idea,
of a beginning,
a new beginning,
was starting to form.
This spark was sent up to where this flower
was slowly but steadily disintegrating.
When the deformed petals had all fallen off,
one by one,
when even the strings that had held the pollen
for the bees
had crumbled to dust,
when nothing was left but the head,
the furry base,
the core,
only then did the spark turn into something more concrete.
This something had drawn a new stalk up the inside of the old one,
and it was beginning to be more than a thought now.
It bulged out,
crowding a multitude of petals under tough green skin,
laying the foundation for more, new, beautiful leaves.
When finally the core of the old, failing flower
fell to the ground,
this bud burst forth,
springing out,
ready to show the world the colors and design
it had worked so hard on all those months, years,
it had waited in the seed to be born.
It grew slowly,
just as the previous flower had died slowly,
but it grew thorns the right way out,
forming its natural protective barrier,
and its leaves were bright green and faced up, towards the sun,
to catch its rays and give nourishment to itself.
Best of all, though,
was this new, young, slowly but steadily growing flower’s petals.
The design was intricate,
and the colors were brilliant and spellbinding.
And this flower swayed in the soft breeze that had sprung up,
knowing that one day she would die too…
and that was alright.