two quills and a rose
on the same wooden table
Across the countryside and into the grassland pastures;
inhabits the battle fields that segregate a Peony Rose.
Such as the gentle beauty of the rose that threatens those,
who are drawn to the undisturbed meadows of the divine,
and become caught in the thorn barb and twisted twine.
Coveted by the splendor of our sight,
we horde the natural beauty as it is our given right.
The Peony Roses are captivated in our possessive might.
The beauty must defend or to shatter and remain in a vibrant tatter.
For each life is to begin in the epoch,
of uncertainty, fruitless, and in a perilous world of bitterness.
As for all the desires to be fulfilled in the end of the epoch;
seeking meaning and clarity as their souls,
reaching for sweet unity.
In the courts,
man throws his mighty stick,
changing the rules, scheming a new trick.
See the weightless power of man
and the fear at hand that he brings.
In the churches,
the prayers of woman
in a quiet peace,
for a faithful praying
as she sings.
A vicious world with beauty,
hiding as a flower.
Attraction to peril in fury,
as we deviate from a greater power.
Was it a Greater Being’s perfect mistake,
or a beautiful mistake by elements of chance?
In the birth of creativity,
allowing mistakes to creep in.
Seeking the perfect form in nature,
while there is no true formality.
Living with these two extremities,
of the hot desert summers days
and the cold arctic winter nights.
The Peony rose hiding away in the sun rays,
and sleeps under the distant star lights.
Vanity or our pride of youth,
we become prisoners of our own devise.
Dreaming of tomorrow as a given truth.
Selfish thoughts we never considered unwise,
we desire for the things we can never own.
We covet what we see
The beauty we can never be.
The danger of the rose.
The aggressions of a Man
and the tenderness of a Woman
can be read by the hardness of his hands
and the softness of her touch.
Is it the end of a gentle beauty of the rose,
To look at her pedals, smell her sent,
feel her touch,
and still be pained by his thorns in the stem?
I was just trying to remember the past
trying to remember the good people
and the bad people,
that i came across on my way,
i want you to know
that you are among the good people
that left a good trace in my life,
once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.
--**--The Virtuous White Rose--**--
White rose is holy
Matrimony pureness of
Bond between lovers.
Blessing to Old Rome deceased’s
Chastity and innocence.
White Rose in myth and
Legend was tainted by blood,
Made blush from kiss, thus
Made it red and made it pink
Against its pride purity.
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears
A diminishing Rose Bush
With every pedal plucked, beauty is fading away
Losing its essence of greatness
As we proceed to deplete its history
Life flows away,
I remain standing above
Stems are bare and exposed
Vulnerable to the world and its nature
I give woes
I give worries
I give troubles
These are my possibilities
Then the death of a rose and destruction
Bare my green,
My DNA shows traces of the best soils
Traced back to my mother’s land
Surrounded by fellow planted gold
Some will never know
Doing well isn’t doing well
We can’t bloom unless we unfold
Reproduce the best again
Stop dying daily for less than a win
There’s nothing we can’t do
That we’ve done once again
The next season will bring new pedals
I will never grow pass go anymore
Next year, beauty will flourish
Next season remains to nourish
Each season we should cherished
In our best moments
Each year is the best one of your life.
Allow me the autonomy
Of innovative spirit
Don’t undermine potential
My purpose, don’t inhibit
Don’t hinder my endeavors
Nor interrupt progression
Be mindful of my right
To meaningful expression
Don’t try to nail my wings
Unjustly to the floor
Don’t stifle my ambition
I earnestly implore
Through fiery determination
I’ll pursue my intuition
With acute awareness
I'll inspire new tradition
Though the odds be great
Against what I believe
Through blazing perseverance
The impossible I’ll achieve
Camille Rose Castillo 2011
Camille Rose Castillo 2011
In recognition of all those throughout history who relentlessly pursued their goals in spite of overwhelming academic, social or professional opposition and oppression.
a pretty white rose
her robe is being filled with
tears from someone's eyes
Gun is a gun and rose is a rose
The first is to kill, the other is to scent
If I must pick one, I’ll choose the latter
For I can easily give it to my lover
Small moated manorhouse oriel windows silver mists
White damask silver and crystal tinkling chime sounds
Yew and privet hedges grew over the rose brick facade
Overlooking a small pond and fountain leading toward
Poodle topiary garden path forking onto a glinting river
Through the maze her blushing complexion reddened
The scent of his warm breath fresh musky and alluring
Young ladies are drawn to him like metal to a magnet
Curved hedge edges came to a dead end Rich chuckle
In the midst of the privy maze safetys kept and hemmed
Savouring forgotten scents of deep pink rose blooms
Powerful blood-red rose perfume that wafted in waves
My explanation for my insecurity,
in a secure society might still not be clear to me.
Even though I’m status quo,
my mirror still lies to me
I’m not who I see,
its what I portray,
its what I silently say,
like committing suicide in a
less violent way.
Americans have to pray
that children don’t grow be to gay,
they’d rather grow to be fake
You can stunt growth but you can’t take it away,
God creates images of himself,
but why do you feel the need to help,
makeup and magazines can hide it well,
but one day every person has to face themselves,
society cries to them,
and science lies to them,
tell that the true beauty lies in those that deprive of them,
their pursuit of happiness,
thoughts of irony get unwrinkled by
its tiring to be the only one who sees my eye of things.
I cry tears into a bucket and make my way to the church
pour them into the holy water
now finally everyone can feel my hurt,
papers the only thing that will ever feel my words,
i define my passion,
it’s a love
it’s a drug,
it’s a must,
it’s a trust,
a rose bud that rose above the rest.
I see the future being bright
because im a visual indivdual.
I feel like Im the only one who sees the answer
like god enscribed it into the inside of my eye-lids,
I sob poeticly instead of crying,
and learn from dreams cuz real life is lying...
In the night I wake to find you
Not in bed, only a pillow, which I wetted it
Once, with tears of wrinkled time
Lingers silently, beside me
Oh God, not again, I thought
My sleepy round eyes try to search
In the stillness of the night, where they
Slowly deflating like a worn tire
I keep my fingers crossed that you’re
In the kitchen drinking ouzo, your favorite
Yet, my mind is bursting in paroxysm
Of unusual, silent rage
But then, I heard sound, a familiar music
Wafting out from the blue room
As I peer through the half-opened door
The dim light helped me see you, the real you
Lying, in contentment, with your admirer
Her eyes perfectly closed, and your soft falsetto
Makes her enjoy the warmness
Of your blood in the cold winter night
She has your smile, and she’s just like you
Full of secrets, but only not yet spoken
Why do I find, every time, without you near me
That I am this meretricious rose
A penalty pinned down my conscious,
When a high volt power injected me unsuspended shock,
Unawakened and unconscious,
I cried as a fish, out of water.
Imagination of discrimination terrified me,
My soul was jerking with dizziness,
The democratic system was trembling,
The bureaucracy was pinning the nibs into my dreams.
Not only once, terminology of deeds,
Curriculummed deliberation of considerations,
And ranked bribery and recommendations,
To reward innocence and honesty,
To secure human values,
A system was highjacked by think tanks.
As I experienced after applying a vacancy online,
Where home office advertised descriptions of a job,
And declined with direct approach in moments,
I experienced my capabilities,
Home office departments, on various occasions,
Rewarded me, a safe and tolerated direction,
And provoked me to enjoy the fire with my qualifications,
To protect my future from cold weather.
Not only Home office also local councils,
Highjacked individual progress and prosperity,
Criminality always delivered justice of excuses,
Where democratic equal opportunity services policy,
That was lying dead on a log of ice.
My pain was streaming into flames,
My throat was drying with the taste of equal opportunism.
I was imprisoned into the democratic boundaries,
Where my performance was demarcated into various barriers,
My soul was delivering justice through my poetry,
But my unemployment forced me always,
To learn about high ranked poor and victimized positions,
And my tolerances run down after touching a sore of sand.
The bubbling rust was claiming superiority,
Law is equal for all.
ye mwana awulira,
atya bazadde be,
ye mwana gw'emanyi,
ey 'eyisa ng'omuntu,
omwana ow'empisa atya bazadde be.
Jenifer Rose nze mw'ewunya!
Gwe buza maama we,
akubulire ky 'amanyi
ku mwana ow'essanyu,
Jenifer Rose mubutufu y 'asinga!
Katherine Stella yakola nyo omulimu,
okuyamba omwana we,
Naye ate ffe?
THE TRANSLATION OF THE ABOVE.
THE TITTLE: THE CHILD OF JOY
The child of joy,
she's having a humble life,
she respects her parents,
and those above her.
she's the child i know,
behave like a human,
a disciplined child respects her parents
at her young age.
I don't just praise her,
but really a humble girl,
on the road and home.
Jenifer Rose i wonder about her!
You ask her mum,
she will tell you the truth,
about a child of joy,
who makes others happy.
Jenifer Rose really she's great!
she did a good job,
to help her child to grow at peace.
What about us?
I do not know?
Prosper greenest rose.
The severed stem dos’t grows.
Come to the limb and reap the trim.
Thou ar’t so deep to master thy leap.
Spring must bring the lovely leafy thing.
Who cutest thou?
Tell it true.
The answer lies with thou as dew
Et une promise
Toujours dans l’amour
Et des gloires chantaient
Toi… chérie, j’attendrai
Living of the happiness
that flows from others,
and greeting each person we meet.
for money no longer defines happiness,
all things needed
are distributed to all.
in the fields and playgrounds.
Music is heard from behind each door,
streets are clean,
forests expand from human hand.
No more fights,
no more war,
people live healthy and free.
Race has only one category,