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Flower Free Verse Poems | Free Verse Poems About Flower

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

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Details | Free verse |

flowers for Chinaski


I quickly grew tired of poems about
the supposed gentleman who wanted
to turn his gal into a flower.

I thought about what it might be like 
to be turned into a 
flower --

maybe domesticated in a garden 
first, then plucked

or plucked straight from the wild.

Stuck into a vase
on display for people to watch you 
slowly wither.
People admiring you 
with punctuated looks of sentiment,
sniffing you while they watch you
die.

By chance
someone might press you into a book
to preserve you for later admiration,

only able to touch you like a 
gentleman,
so your petals don't disintegrate into dust.

Nah, I would rather she be a 
woman,
have her petals embrace me.

She might try clawing out my eyes with rage 
and slam the kitchenette 
in just that way I can't stand,

before we cuddle together,
an ashtray between us
smoldering with the stacks of Pittsburgh or
Chicago or Buffalo City.

And even if the blue light flickering off the walls 
can't fill all the empty spaces 
in our hearts,
at least we chose to be there

and lived.

Lived beyond 
living for the sole purpose
of dying to look good in the casket,
only to be pressed into a mausoleum.
____


When the time comes,
I want my corpse to feed
the forces that don't give up
fighting against contrived,
manicured lawns --
that don't stop fighting to break through 
concrete city slabs
with the faces of dandelions and chickory,
blossoms exploding
into bright ruckus

while making love to the sky.



April 7th, 2014




“i am with the roots
of flowers
entwined, entombed
sending up my passionate blossoms
as a flight of rockets
and argument...."

-- Charles Bukowski,
"The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems, 1946-1966"




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Details | Free verse |

flowers for Chinaski -- part ii

part ii


There was a time
when I wanted to be one of them,

to somehow fit in
with the fancy rituals
of their high society.
But the da-Dumb, da-Dumb, da-Dumb
made me want to puke,
made me want to bounce my head 
off the table, hopefully causing the bone china
and forks
to add clatter to their snobbish 
symphony.

Words like "gossamer" 
flitted around the room,
word so thin but veiled 

and distant,

even the candle light appeared
to shy away from those dry wings.

The snobs talked about how
I was too simple with words.
They did so with such a simple, 
small-mindedness,
the irony provided oxygen for flame
to devour.

And the critics proclaimed that
I wasn't able to love,
when really, I just wanted to get away
from them, 
smoke a cigarette in peace
while hitchhiking back to my chubby cherub,
feel her belly fall and rise against my skin.

I was finally able to love,
and she died.

The previous pain had been for show:
"Look at the drunk ham
feeling sorry for himself."

But when she died,
I distilled tears
into a different type of proof.
I was no longer willing to be
their carnival attraction
placated under the table,
listening to them upstage each other.

When I was able to stand again,
a cold, sharp thing was birthed in my mind,
and 
I wanted to shoot them all between the eyes,
splatter their degrees and deeds 
with their blood and brains.

I found peace though -
stopped wanting to be one of them.

I found peace
away from their chatter
about what to carve on their headstones
or what type of fancy imported granite
their mausoleums should be constructed of.

I found peace in readying myself to be 
consumed by 
roots,
to be perspired into the open, fathomless sky --
the same deep blue as the bird 
who finally pecked his way
through the rusted cage of my heart,

freeing us both.



April 12th, 2014



“i am with the roots
of flowers
entwined, entombed
sending up my passionate blossoms
as a flight of rockets
and argument...."

-- Charles Bukowski,
"The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems, 1946-1966"



+/-


Details | Free verse |

The Flower -part one-

“A Flowers Wilt”	

Witness the small existence 
that abides the beauty of-----------
Freelancers all around,
Just to get a good look.

A baneful abrasion, the flower took
It captivates you -------------
Reels you, steals from you, 
WAITING, 
Until you pick the right flawless touch.

Dandelions swaying thin,
Here we fall like petals.
Ready to exploit, the beauty of-------
Inhale the fragrance,

Courtyard azure eyes, 
Embarking in a wishful eternity,
A crush they become, when loveliness up and left. 
A bully against arrogant, threw feminine perfumed veils
Tulips waiting for the better auspicious’ sky
Asters claims the eclipse's,
-dinginess censors it from the brilliance of the sun.
~
A lonely rose
In My Helix World-
The out-and-out are born.
Cries in the dimness, 
A sweet Lotus echo’ 
Slight yelps of agony, carried off by pollen breeze.
The earth revolves to fast,
Injections of herbal essence in the wind
For a split second, we feel pixie dust
Channel the essential, it fades
Earlier beauty, calmness-
A flourish smile,
Rusk of flower, a bluebird’s bread.

Like candles and dew, they stream and limber energy
Opposing others of its humanity, 
Against the command of its importance,
Pierced by its own elegance,
Thriving slowly of its own will, 
A short story, gone stray!
Tonight, we plant a tree, 

The Flower wilts
The gardener cries


By;PD


Details | Free verse |

Pretty Flower in the Deep woods

VINEYARDS of HAPPINESS          ---------------------      GARDEN of SORROW

There is no greater Happiness,-----------when-----------Pulling away  sorrow
then being in my  lover's arms,-------letting go of----Broken memories 
Kissed by his  hungry lips,-------------------------------Rejecting all hunger, of love
spoiled by his sweetest charms.-----------------------The surface spoiled look in his face

There is no greater Happiness,------------------------Holding the depth of solitary sorrow
feeling my love's warm embrace,-----------------------Feelings of cold,no emotions on Gods grace
Meeting in our secret GARDEN,-----------------------Prolonging the visit to our VINEYARD
Opening dreams' golden gates.------------------------the door you open leads into dark woods

There is no greater Happiness,-------------------------Reviving every motion of sorrow
and there 'll never be ,for me,----------------------------trapped forever inside of me
till that far promised day,------------------------------------Broken promises day by day
My Honey  love s' here with me.------------------------a wound so fresh, damaged like a twig
                                                   

            HAPPINESS  -------------------------to-------------------- SADNESS

Happiness to me,is as easy as can be,----------------Sadness triumphs over anything in me
a doughnut,a cup of English Tetley tea.------some nights----------A bucket of ice cream,a bottle of Jack Daniel
Lying on my beige leather sofa,------------some days-------------Slouching up against the wall
Covered by a Woolen red tartan rug,------------- tears fallen like a red river on the carpet
Hugging and Kissing,Fondling and snogging,--- some mornings ---Crying and Weeping,Wiping the Sobbing
Just watching T.V.------------------------------------------Just imaging you                                                                    
                                          

         THE  ROSE===============================WITHER

Love is a Pink Rose,--------------------------------------------A rose in the dark woods
with a crown of thick Grey thorns,--------------------------Like a cloud following you
delicate and strong.-----------------------------------------------Tilting till its gone
By ;Charma                                                        By : P.D.


inspired By : Charmaine Chircop            compose By : Poet Destroyer

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Details | Free verse |

June Bells Flowering under the Trees

June Bells Flowering under the Trees --------------------------------------------- Scarce had it rain'd -- blue hued drops showering down; in the witching hour I rode, where the earth is overrun by weeds, yellow fringed with black-eyed-susans; trees overhung with wild cherries. Pacing past the sequester'd glen, following the trail where tall beeches grow: long sleeved and long limb'd; and leaves falling in curling frills. Then I heard a merry song; sweetest tune enough to make a maiden swoon; soon turning round a winding bend, a field of dripping june bells; I sighted them, a thousand and more in blue slippers scatter'd wide. Seated myself on a moss cover'd stone, as one aptly does after a long ride. Somewhere beats an earthly heart, someone breathes a heaving sigh; Eyes turn to the darken'd clouds hanging by, and to the lowering skies; then far to the place where airy spirits roam, and to the sepulchred ground where unruffled I lie in my grave, under the tufts of june bells. .. For the contest: "Appreciation (In Honour of PD)" Sponsored by Abdulhafeez Oyewole Written on 4/23/2013


Details | Free verse |

Magnolias


erased to try and get it published


Details | Free verse |

Seasons of Life and Death

Under the care of sun and rain
My leaves have unfurled
My buds have burst forth
My own will has been done
This was my beginning
Through the seasons
Spring brought me to life
Summer grew me to new heights
The fall must come sometime
The frost will encase my barbs
And I will return to meditation
Waiting patiently for my rebirth
For your light to peek through clouds
Your moon to hold me within night
When spring returns...
I will dance in the wind
A never ending flower


Details | Free verse |

A Spring Bouquet

 
flowers speak the gladiola is never sad says words with a smile tulips are the pun sound it out, you'll see daisies love me love me not buttercups compliment everyone freesias blow a fragrant line sweet peas well they're still learning patience wait before they speak snapdragons can fly off the handle walk carefully paper whites recite the written word roses bloom the word lovely bluebells cry a tune and some flowers quiet in the night out of sight


Details | Free verse |

What Is Or Is It

                                            What is ? ----- Is it ?



                                            What is happiness ?
                          A hot summer day, walk barefoot in cool grass
                             Picking a large bouquet of summer flowers
                                     and then merge a flower crown
                                       Maybe get a good advice of
                               flower Daisies : love me, love me not,
                                          love me, love me not.......


                                             What is happiness ?
                                      Listen to the frogs love song
                                    by the small pond in the woods
                            Enjoy a fantastic and very light spider webs
                                    Who can do better than the spider
                                         See the raindrops on a leaf,
                            which glistens in the sun shining like jewels
                              Meadow which is full of yellow dots when
                                     Buttercup is smiling and nodding


                                              What is happiness ?
                                       Hand in hand on charity trail
                                               be giddy with love
                              A tender and gently kiss of the one you loved
                                   The dream of a family, have children
                                    and experience that new life is born
                                  Living life together for better or worse
                                    and that the device love never ends


                                   Happiness for me is that you are here








03.05.2012
A-L Andresen



Details | Free verse |

Twigs

Twigs

Flowers bloom
And flowers wilt.
Flowers blush
And flowers fade.
The eternity is only in me-
The twig that bears the flowers.

Sparrows are born
And sparrows die.
Sparrows fly
And brighten the sky.
That who nurtures sparrows is me-
A cozy make of a twig upon a twig.

The sun fades
And moon is born.
The twilight blurs
And moonlight spreads.
All the soothing moonlight beams are me-
A crisscross of unfathomed twigs.

Whether in its birth
Or in its death;
In the heart
Of its heart;
The entire beauty is none but one-
A design of mysterious twigs.


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