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Premium Member Poem | Details | Growth Poem | |

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"



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Premium Member Poem | Details | Growth Poem | |

Mesopotamia

Iraq is civilization's cradle -
a casket is being built
with the cradle's worn planks.



August 7th, 2014





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Premium Member Poem | Details | Growth Poem | |

One World

Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same, 
That runs deep within our veins.

If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.








©2013 Honestly JT

Premium Member Poem | Details | Growth Poem | |

When Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer Met Henrietta Huckhellopolis


Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer
was leading a lonely life working nights at the fookfoorfiffenfimmer factory,
where he was in charge of loading crates full of fookfoorfiffenfimmers
onto cargo cars destined for the city of Cincinnati.

There was such a huge demand for fookfoorfiffenfimmers 
in the city of Cincinnati,
poor Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer worked his hunnyhush to the bone.

On one of his few holiday weekends,
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer went to a hair salon for a trim.
Here he was attended by a hairdresser named, Henrietta Huckhellopolis.
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer instantly fell for the husky-voiced hairdresser.

Gaining enough gumption and gallasisgoppingguff
needed to bypass beating around the bush of courteous courtship,
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer asked Henrietta Huckhellopolis
if she wanted to leerlumpaloomp later that evening.

"I would love to leerlumpaloomp later this evening," she replied,
batting her long lashes lustily.

And how those two leerlumpaloomped!

They leerlumpaloomped long through the night.
They leerlumpaloomped so loudly,
the neighbours ended up sticking stuffystoils into their sensilivities,
in hopes of drowning out the noise.

Nine months later, 
the lovers were blessed with a litter of lullaloonillies -
wot with the loud leerlumpaloomping and all.
But, of the seven lullaloonillies,
four of them had two lumpalots instead of just one.
 
Bolstering himself against drowning in despair
at the prospect of having sired freak lullaloonillies,
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer helped design fookfoorfiffenfimmers
especially meant for lullaloonillies who have two lumpalots instead of one.

Since the double-lumpalot fookfoorfiffenfimmers
were Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer's idea to begin with,
the owner of the fookfoorfiffenfimmer factory
gave Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer a forty percent cut of the royalties.
_____


Fortunately some fairy tales come with a happy ending,
because the city of Cincinnati was hit with a record level of lullaloonillies
born with two lumpalots instead of just the one.
The high sales of double-lumpalot fookfoorfiffenfimmers,
enabled Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer and Henrietta Huckhellopolis
to quit their jobs and buy into the fookfoorfiffenfimmer factory.

Yes, after getting married,
Harry Heironymous and Henrietta Huckhellopolis-Huffenhoffer 
lived happily hever hafter.
So did the lullaloonillies....

including those with two lumpalots instead of one.







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| Details | Growth Poem | |

Paranoid love

Tell me that this fear is just paranoia in my mind, 
we're not straining, we're not struggling, 
we're not sinking, we're just fine. 
I'm not perfect my dearest, but damn have I tried, 
and I'll try harder but I know I'll have the same results every time. 
Do you want me all the ways that I am? 
With all the struggles and the tears and the clinging to your hand. 
I fear your getting further and Im left on the shore to stand, 
watching you in the distance with a bullet in my hand. 
Tell me all this worry, its just clutter in my mind, 
tell me not to worry that we're doing just fine. 
Cause Im scared to run you off and I feel Im falling deep. 
And Im so frightened of these thoughts that its getting hard to sleep.
All I know is that the heart wants what it desires, 
because of you the match inside has turned into a fire. 
And I feel the broken glass thats sticking from my skin, 
Wondering if you'll remove the pain or push it back in. 
My hearts frantic wondering if you feel the same, 
pleading and begging for more than just a saying, 
but to feel and to see that im not alone, 
with being in this love thats overwhelming. 
Once I told you that we didnt have a spark, 
but you were lighting up and I was sitting in the dark. 
And this fire, this blaze its wrapped in desire. 
Im terrified to lose you, I think I might die or, 
maybe disappear from all the pieces falling out, 
im going crazy but when i open my mouth, nothing comes out, 
and I cant explain to you why I just need to hold you close, 
why every time you leave Im scared to let you go, 
why these tears are building up behind my eyes, 
all I know is that the heart wants what it desires 
and it desires to be your wife. 
So tell me in my panic, that your words are true, 
tell my my dearest what I mean to you, 
tell me that this paranoia is all within my mind 
we're not struggling, we're not sinking tell me we're just fine

| Details | Growth Poem | |

I Did It My Way

I Did It My Way
I did it my way, not for the applause but because, Failure was not an option and I became a rebel with a cause. I wanted higher education and was told I couldn’t have it all, So I had to prove them wrong even if I had to creep or crawl.
I was accused of having a stubborn streak, Just because I wasn’t mild and meek. Challenging every obstacle placed in my way, And all the negative things that people had to say.
In spite of all the “You can’t do that,” that I was told, I stubbornly did it my way and confidently smashed the mold. Marching to a different drummer and dancing to my own tunes, I kept my eyes on the prize ignoring all the nay-saying buffoons.
To keep on track, I learned to juggle tasks knowing I wouldn’t be derailed. To keep my ducks in a row, I learned to haggle knowing I wouldn’t fail. With dedication and hard work, as sure as night follows day, Success was mine because I certainly did it my way!
6-7-2014 - Submitted to contest “I Did It My Way” sponsored by Shadow Hamilton

Premium Member Poem | Details | Growth Poem | |

'Smothered No More'


Bounded by fear - 
Do you still remember that?
When I would build my walls;
I would let no one in
I would look for ways to cut them off
Especially those who got too close 

Do you remember when I said?
It was for their own good 
In the meantime you knew it was the fear talking
Afraid of the consequences
Feeling that if I let them in, 
They might be hit by misfortune

I never thought it would come to this
I never thought the fear would dissipate –

Replaced by faith 
Replaced by the knowledge 
That everything that happened 
Had to happen

In order for me to let go
To stop myself from stifling my growth 

I needed to embrace the pain, 
Embrace the laughter,
Even the fear of losing loved ones 

I needed to let go – 

I needed to experience the hurt 
I needed to experience the joy
I needed to experience the fear
I needed to fail, 
I needed to fall

So I can stand today
Knowing that no matter what happens
My mind,
My body 
And
My soul 
Is ready to go on –

That fear can be toppled by faith 

If I focus on me 

Focus on today and not on my past

©142704092013


Premium Member Poem | Details | Growth Poem | |

Paradise Leaving Not A Trace

Paradise Leaving Not A Trace


I took the last picture off the wall
 then my broken heart started to bawl
 on the floor lay your broken vows
 fat they lay like bloated cows

The love sworn by your sacred heart
 flipped over like an apple cart
 the corner lay three mismatched shoes
 I sit here , lonely, cryin' da blues

I took that picture and held it tight
 sad memories of our fightin' last night
 you spat upon my deep, deep remorse
 grieved as you beat on that dead horse

I saw dear hope entered my heart today
 I saw a picture that reminded me of you
 the pretty girl had your perfect eyes
 sun shining so like you in her skies

Tell me just one more time how you care
 lie to me even if it is an oath unfair
 whisper gasps of our sex-filled nights
 baby, please forget those recent fights

Lets hang the pictures back on the walls
 lock the doors, not take any damn calls
 undress as we rush into mad, mad embrace
 stay in that paradise leaving not a trace

Robert J. Lindley, 06/21/1976

This was my last poem written to her before my first wife and I finally 
divorced. I had my best friend deliver it. He said she threw it into the 
garbage can and told him to tell me to go jump into a lake. Next morn I 
knocked on the door there, her mother answered. I asked for my poem back 
from the garbage can, she got it and gave it to me! I have it still with dried 
food stains on the last stanza.
I keep it to remind me that too late is a damn terrible place to ever be!!! This 
is the first time I have  ever shared it with anybody since she never even read 
it. 
I hope you may like it , for it shows that young fools
 suffer too. And often rightly so...

Premium Member Poem | Details | Growth Poem | |

Dead tree

Dead tree.

She stands there like she has for years
The life in her all gone
Once she wore a coat of green
And she'd be filled with song
As feathered friends of every kind
Would rest among her leaves
And as in life the same in death
Our tree will never grieve.

So all alone, she looks, this tree
All etched against black clouds
Although the life in her be gone
She stands there looking proud
And all her majesty is seen
By those with eyes to see
I take her picture once again
Try to catch her mystery

21 September 2013 @1920hrs.

| Details | Growth Poem | |

I need it to rain

I need to hide
to drown my sorrow
to not feel obligated to stay a secret
the darkness to blanket my self inflicted pain
the thunder to stifle my screams
the lightening to set me on fire
I need it to rain...

I need to be revitalized and invigorated
to feel serene and tranquil
to be calm and collected
the darkness to bring me peace
the thunder to direct my mind
the lightening to guide my heart
I need it to rain...

I need to escape
to feel the ground at my feet
to feel the wind in my hair
the darkness to blind my captor
the thunder to clap in approval
the lightening to sever my shackles 
I need it to rain...

I need to grow
to heighten my potential
to cultivate and thrive
the darkness to shelter my fraility
the thunder to ward off any imminent danger
the lightening to strike as my weapon
I need it to rain...

I need to be laid to rest
for someone to cry for me
for someone to long for me
the darkness to resemble my abscence
the thunder to echo my voice through your ears
the lightening to flash visions of me before your eyes
I need it to rain...

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