Best Bad Seed Poems | Poetry

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The Root of Evil vs The Bad Seed by Domenech, Ashley
THE BAD SEED by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
Bad Seed, Weeded Bliss by Argyl, Dymytryk
bad seed by horan, danielle
And We, the Bad Seed by Martin, Brittany
Bad Seed by Pickett, Jared

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The Best Bad Seed Poems

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Every Seed Grows

In this field of plantation; 
Where I walk and plant various 
parts of myself around this 
world; 
I sometimes look back and notice 
the trail; 
I recognize the lettuce of charity
I’ve grown constantly through the 
years, 
the tomatoes of kindness which 
resonates red to the world, 
For as the blood flows within my 
temple, 
Kindness will always be found 
here; 
Also my celery of respect remains 
long, 
And continues growing as much as I 
do; 
And yet for all these positive elements 
I’ve learned to express to my 
environment; 
Occasionally I plant a bad seed which 
poison’s the essence of my entire
being; 
And for that, I apologize. 

Although a perfectionist in small doses I 
am not perfect, 
And as a result my garden of Eden
contains more infamous fruit then I 
would want, 
Stemming from lack of growth in my 
maturity plant; 
While a few of any negative offspring 
have cultivated, 
None have been more consistent in growth 
than my deception seed.

Unfortunately as I’ve grown into 
adulthood, 
So has my subconscious lying, 
Sadly after a while you don’t even 
realize that it still sleeps in your 
field, 
And as a human constantly harvesting 
you learn to accept it; 
However evolution never grows 
old, 
And even a perfect saint contains a 
lifetime of imperfect downfalls, 
So while I’m familiar with deception, 
It is those virtuous seeds that grow 
within me, 
That are parallel with my height 
and with that, I’m content.  

God never asked for our field to be 
perfect, 
But to show progression, 
So that it could display many of lives 
lessons, 
And as my life continues adding up, 
I can promise the world that my 
dark seeds subtract simultaneously; 
But yet I understand we’re all human, 
And we must reap what we 
sow, 
Therefore I’m hoping that my seeds of 
empowerment in the form of black eyed 
peas, fall into my neighbors field, 
Thereby enriching their lives for yet another 
season. 


Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013


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Little Blue Bird of Rain

Little Blue Bird of rain.

Rain, rain go away
Little Blue Bird of Rain, needs to shine again
In her version the sun dried, up all her tears
Leaving hurtful rain inside the bird
Destructive past sudden cheers
Waking up to empty words
When abandoned by her peers
Just not knowing what had just occurred

Drowning herself in a life of Jane Doe.
Never know who she really is
When all she loves hanging her lowest moment
The rain brought out Mary-Jane.
As the bird lost its glow.
The rain tricked her once to use Cocaine.
As her feathers met that one Joe.
He broke her wing and brought more Rain.

Very young, very sweet.
Living her life in the fast lane.
Hard for her to stand on her feet.
Balanced her life on one leg, like the crane.
Curtains hang over her wings.
While she let no one near her domain.

While she flies through the heavy rain.
She finds her comfort with a pen.
Using the lords name in vain.
Cursing all her backstabbing friends
With no one around to explain?
All the sorrow left her on a railroad track.
Ending up like the runaway train.
Only she can get her life back.

If for myself I ever felt pain?
I felt more pain at what she wrote about. 
In my face on my left side 
Your poetry comes to life in my head. 
Visions of her wanting to be dead.
Oh! How I wish this life she did not dread.

You hide the tears you shed so well.
A life with balls you cut the chains.
You diss, Your parents to go to hell.
Little Blue Bird of Rain, don't let them fools drive you insane.

Little Blue Bird of Rain.
If a sparrow could show you,
There is more to life than pain.
Under the umbrella, the sparrow would cover you.
No one wants to see her colors drain.
What a world to master her feathers into art.
The gift of words runs through her vein

The paintings on her wall.
A dream of a bad seed of grain.
One day our Little Blue Bird will stand tall.
To free herself from all the Rain.


  To: Rain aka- Joy Loveless
Our sweet 16-year-old
      P.D.     1-1-10


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010


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In Memoriam (Che Guevara)

                            I
I woke up this morning with tears in my eyes,
your face was in the morning paper;
they shot you dead like a dog,
hunted you out all day and night.

                            II
They said you'd always been a bad seed
and youths were dying because of you;
they said you're a criminal on the run
with a dirty face and shaggy head.

                    (Refrain)
But I know you better than they do,
you preached love to all the people;
you fought for them, young and old,
you lit up their nights with your heart.

                            III
And now as I see you lying dead,
it seems my dreams have vanished as well;
they can call you names, any names they want,
but I know there's only one like you, 
there's only one like you, 
there's only one Che Guevara.
              (Repeat Refrain)
                
You lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart.




Copyright © Wilfredo Derequito | Year Posted 2007


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Now Your Love, Dwells There In Hellish And Lost Dreams


    Now Your Love, Dwells There In Hellish And Lost Dreams

    Deep the cold at foot of our abandoned bed
    where roses wilt, praying early frost to die
    Green-eyed monster laughing loud to be fed
    your new "friends" gladly providing the lie
    No pleasure in revealing this most foul deed
    no solace in showing past pain in new light
    Was too late once you took on the bad seed
    turning once bright day into darkest night

    What of fantastic past joys we had both shared
    morns wrapped in warm bodies refusing to rise
    In darkness, my soul and heart was ensnared
    took years to recover from that surprise.

    Now your love, dwells there in hellish and lost dreams
    My spirit glows in relief, in love's true streams.

    R.J. Lindley,
    Sept 12th 1976

    Sonnet, 11 on 10....

    Poem Syllable Counter Results
    Syllables Per Line: 11 11 10 10 11 11 10 10 0 11 11 10 10 0 11 11
    Total # Syllables: 148
    Total # Lines: 16 (Including empty lines)
    Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
    Total # Words: 116

    New Note( the old note and its cursing deleted)- These decades later the powerful dream still comes attempting to haunt.
    I wake with a smile knowing I survived and eventually prospered...


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016


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Vows

I refused to be ignored, helpless, and labeled as another bad seed
I refuse to fall in the trap that these so called "statistics" has made for me
I refuse to be stupid and take my education for granted
I refuse to put down a custom or culture because I don't understand it
I refuse to not speak my mind, I refuse to not say what I mean
I refuse to be called anything other than a civilized human being
I refuse tosatisfy enemies by holding my head down in shame
I refuse to be a traitor by slurring my brothers and sisters name
I refuse to prove statistics right by fitting their description of a "normal black teen"
I refuse to be black and not know what being black means
I refuse to lack i n education when it was given to me to have
I refuse to not have a future when it is there for me to grasp
I refuse to apologize for being different and for not fitting in
I refuse to try to please other people, because that is a battle that I will never win
I refuse to try to be like images in the magazines
I refuse to be corrupted by what I see in the media and on my T.V. screen
But most of all I refuse to be anything other than me

                           -Lyric-


Copyright © LaQunda Goods | Year Posted 2006


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Bad Seed

** This poem is dedicated**
     To the families and kin
   Who struggle to stay afloat
******In this world of sin******


Nobody cares about him
He's a troubled teen
Just throw him in confinement
Throw away the key
Rehab not necessary
He's just a troubled teen

It does not matter 
That he comes from a broken home
That he has no food to eat
Just a bad seed
Growing old in the cold city streets


Jared Pickett.....:JP]


Copyright © Jared Pickett | Year Posted 2009


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Canto XXIII Hell translation part 2

I stopped there, and saw two showing high rate
Of their will, on their face, to join with me;
But were hampered by narrow street and weight.

When reached us, with their eyes awry to see
Then looked at me without saying a word;
Then they turned to selves, and told to agree:

“This is alive as sound of throat is heard;
And if they are dead, which privilege hold
To go with no mantle are they conferred?”.

“O Tuscan, who to our group” , they me  told,
“Of the sad hypocrites now have just come,
To tell us who you are should not withhold”.

I told them: ”I was born adult to become
In the great city over Arno river grown,
And I am with corps I ever had there from.

But who you are, so hardly being shown 
The sorrow on your cheeks to notice I could?
And which pain is in you sparklingly known?

And one responded me: “This golden hood
It is lead inside so much, that the weight
Is such way as its scale strongly squeak would.

Revelers friars we were, from Bologna great,
I Catalano and Loderingo this
Our names, and by your land both taken straight

Like is taken a man who lone exists,
To save his peace; and so then we were such 
That at Gardingo yet speak of us amiss”.

I started then: “O friars, your wrong is much….”;
But I did not tell more, since my eye went
To one, crucified to soil by three poles clutch.

When he saw me, then all of him was bent
Blowing in his beard with a weeping sigh;
And friar Catalano who caught the event,

Told me: “The nailed down that you see to cry,
The Pharisees advised it was good trait
To put for people to torture a guy.

He is trampled on, naked, in the way straight,
As you can see, and so he must then feel
Everyone  passing, before, with his weight.

So his father in law with pain must deal
In this grave, and others of council too
Which was for Jews very bad seed for real”.

Then I saw Virgilio wonder renew
Over that one who crucified was lying
So basely in eternal exile drew.

After he turned his voice to friar eyeing:
“If you please be kind, and can, us tell
If going right hand find an exit trying

So that we both can leave this place then well,
Without hard constraint from the devils black
Coming here and us to run compel.

Answered therefore: “More than you hope aback
Is close a stone which from the circle wide
Expands and crosses all the circles’ stack,

But here is broken no lid implied;
You can climb up the precipice ravine,
Which lies on coast and to bottom beside”.

The duke remained a bit with his head lean;
Then told: “Badly our needs just thought indeed
The one who hooks here the sinners mean”.

And the friar: “Yet at Bologna heard the seed
Of devil vices, , among which I heard 
That he is a liar and of lie weed”.

The duke went away fast as he was spurred
And a bit distraught by rage in his face;
So I left sinners rapid not demurred

Of the beloved legs seeking the trace.


Copyright © Mario DE PAZ | Year Posted 2014


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I'm Satified

Your touch, satisfies my soul
One look from you and I feel whole
And I've had more love than I could ever live
And gotten so much more than I could ever give
And if I never see
Another sunrise
That's ok, cause I'm satisfied.
.
If I never hear your voice even one more time
I've gotten more than I deserve 
It didn't cost a single dime
That's ok, cause I'm satisfied
It's still a win because you simply let me in
If I never see your smiling face again 
That's ok, cause I'm satisfied
.
I've had more love in life than most folks have ever known
And I've sure lost some along the way 
and I've reaped every good or bad seed that I've sown
And as long as I'm with you 
That's  ok, ok, 
cause I'm satisfied
.
One touch from you
I know it's true
One look is all it takes
And my sky is blue 
But if I never felt your touch again 
I'd still be ok
Cause I'm satisfied . . .
With you
You've given what no one else would ever give
You gave me all of you
And I know it's true
.
And if I don't take another breath today
That's ok, cause I'm satisfied
With you


Copyright © Kelly Crenshaw | Year Posted 2015


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Mr Wonderful

A broken promise, demoralized man who is incapable of being true, 	
A thoughtless coward, oblivious clown, this is what I think of you,

A woeful chicken, a runaway guy is how you're now portrayed,
A selfish critter, a prideful morsel is the reputation you have made,

When flesh spoils in a slaughter house the smell of you comes to mind,
For your manipulation has made you completely colorblind,

In your mothers soil you were the bad seed,
As you grew up we realized you were just a weed,

A fragmentation, with no revelation is who you really are,
A scab that stopped healing, the beggar who keeps on stealing, now just another scar,

A predicable cycle, a sick little mess, a hidden agenda that isn’t well dressed,
A miserable liar, disposable fool, too bad you weren’t like an infertile mule,

Just like a wolf, you would consume your own,
For apparently humanity was something you were never shown,

Just like wild animals that abandon their first litter,
You fit right in, you unoriginal quitter.

By: Sabina Nicole
Written:9/29/11
Contest:Angry


Copyright © Sabina Nicole | Year Posted 2011


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Our Chosen Path

Our path in life will turn and twist,
Leaving destination at times unclear.
From the iniquitous we must resist,
And for God demonstrate our fear.

But at path's end there awaits a prize,
For those whom God judges steadfast.
A crown of gold is waiting our demise,
But once a tree is fallen destiny is cast.*

I know most won't follow advice I give,
Attempting to solve conundrums alone.
By accepting Jesus whilst you still live,
He grants pardon for bad seed sown. 






















Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2013


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Tweedles Dee Dum Doo

“Tweedle, my dear, are you Dee or Dum?”
“I’m neither Dum nor Dee, but Doo, you see”
“I’ve never heard of Doo; of the Tweedles that is”
“Well I’m Doo, and I do say so to you”

“For I am the third offspring of the Tweedles
I don’t like needles or crunchy beetles
Though I do like toffee much better than coffee
And I love to scuba while playing the tuba”

“The twins, Dum and Dee, often forget about me
They are like one mind, body, and soul you see
They tease as they please and cause me to sneeze
With tricks up their sleeves, they don’t eat their peas” 

“No stories of me you’ll ever read
Yes, indeed, I am the bad seed in need
Of a normal home, a pocket comb, a friend that is
 not a garden gnome
To love me is easy, not cheesy or leaving you
 feeling queasy”

“Dee and Dum had their fifteen minutes of fame
Now my name, Tweedle the same, I’ve got no shame
This Tweedle Doo begs of you, not to bid him an adieu
I am yours, open your doors, I promise not to snore”

“I am never Dum or Dee, just me
Little brother Doo wants to come home with you
I’ll always be a Tweedle who doesn’t like needles
But love you forever this younger Doo will do” 


Copyright © Shani Fassbender | Year Posted 2011


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queen of prawns

Super-rich are the Devils spawn, why Nigeria has the Con-Mans FORM, old habits: Craft, Deceit, and Pirates cop it sweet, can't change em tootie suite, though IN poverty reborn, NO lesson learned, forlorn, Gina's seed dilemna thorn, {high enema?} Nigeria on-delete.... so goes the queen of prawns... Don Johnson Logic rules the universe, Levels Earned at EVERY birth, VERILY are worse, if you've been a greedy Hog, you'll suckle under Dogs of lessons learned a DEARTH? The SUCK-IT-UP cum-drop CURSE, KARMA'S empty purse, just no excuse for Frogs...... Don Johnson im saying Gods will is verily done, when reborn the nasty one, in sweet dear old Nigeria, the slum.... the lesson is no fun.... Where next doth your spirit come? If you've reaped bad seed 4 some sow well, the sweetness mum....


Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2015


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The Battle Between Evil and Good

The battle between evil and good rages inside us all;
Seeds of sin and generosity are planted deep within;
Our moral compass will determine which way we fall. 

The path we tread is not predetermined by a genetic law;
Each of us face the same temptations of good and sin;
The battle between evil and good rages inside us all.

This dichotomy is not the result of any particular flaw;
Our environment and guidance we get influences where we begin;
Our moral compass will determine which way we fall.

Sometimes the good and evil get passed around like a ball,
As we try each out to help determine where we might fit in;
The battle between evil and good rages inside us all.

Our capacity to win this battle depends upon us all
Helping each other with their own battle to win;
Our moral compass will determine which way we fall.

So understand if in your brother evil you saw, 
He has not yet conquered the bad seed planted within;
The battle between evil and good rages inside us all;
Our moral compass will determine which way we fall.


Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2011


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Sunweed

                        Sunweed



Sunflower sprouted happiness yet only just a weed,
   a gardens hated nemisis this beloved bad seed.
Mimicking society using others resources to feed,
   erected thick headed sunlight thief of greed...

Metaphorically speaking, this I do believe,
   a sunflowered populace thrives to deceive.
Just as a flower unable to uproot and leave,
   starving in the shadow behind this weed it grieves...


Copyright © Brian Davey | Year Posted 2016


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When I was Young

When I was young, I thought I knew so much about this and that, him and her, and they and them. I knew where I wanted to go, what I wanted, why I wanted it, and when I wanted it; I saw pain and peril, poverty and ill gotten gain, doom and gloom, greed and bad seed. I wish I had known you when I was young.

When I was young, it was not my idea, but as a young child I was required to work too much, too hard, too long.  I rested far less than I should have. My mentors were few, my money was short, my mountains were high, my mission was clear, and my mind was made up. I looked for more knowledge; longed for more time, and hungered for more of God. I reached out to build the right relationships with all the right people, in all the right places. I listened a lot, to learn more about things I did not understand;  and I laughed far less than I should have.  I spoke and taught a lot when I started preaching at a very young age. I saw and heard a lot.  You seem to be the type of person I wish I had known when I was young.                                                          

When I was young, I wanted to touch all the bases with everybody to learn about everything all the time, here and there and everywhere.  Wish I had known you when I was young.                           

When I was young, I wanted to run and rush from place to place, to gain an audience, and take away other people‘s pain,  and share from face to face,  matters of facts and faith and God, with the human race.  Wish I had known you when I was young.  Perhaps I could have learned a lot more about people from you.

When I was young, I prayed and sought, served and strove, and sat with saints, to listen for wisdom, to learn how to live, as the Master taught.

When I was young, my spirit paced back and forth, to find my place, to discover my purpose, to occupy my space, to see a God that’s real, to discover where my life was suppose to fit.  Perhaps someone like you could have open my eyes and ears about certain things. Wish I had known you when I was young.

When I was young, I found peace and power, love to care, courage to share, grace to help, hope to cope, faith to go forward, and forgiveness from God.    It appears I was on the right path.  I wish I'd known you when I was young.   It would be interesting to know how my life might have been different; but I guess we'll never know.
Written8/1/07;PS82115;Edited for Contest entry 111917, Wish I knew You When I Was Young, Rodeheaver, 5P


Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015


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The Wizard of loss

I am the wizard of loss; I have lost it all I suppose 
First I lost my job, upon disagreeing with my boss
Then lost all my cash in the bar, drinking every last cent
I lost my apartment when I couldn’t pay the rent

Homeless and broke, I called my girl on the phone
Before I could talk, someone snatched, it was gone
I walked through the rain all the way to her place
Just to find her in bed with a man who had a chiseled face

There was no use to deny it was over, had lost her too
I spent the night shivering, inside a smelly public loo
I went to see my parents hoping they would take me in
When mother saw me, she asked where for three years I had been

That while I was gone my father fell ill and died
There were medical bills to pay, thus my inheritance had dried
She said loving me was difficult, and she had really tried
But I was a bad seed, so she slammed the door on me as she cried.

I could stand to lose anything, but not my mom and dad
I dint know what to do, I thought I would go mad
I went to see my best friend hoping for a crying shoulder
When he saw me he exclaimed, men you’ve grown older

We remembered the old days, when we were young and carefree
But before I could finish my tea, he told me to leave and let him be
I tried to remind him a friend in need is a friend indeed
He said he could not help, for he now had a family to feed

I had lost my best friend, could hardly believe my hard luck
I wanted to get lost at sea, and be swallowed by a large shark
But even before that could happen, I had more things yet to lose
I was arrested for snatching a purse, and drinking too much booze

I found myself behind bars having lost my freedom
I thought there was nothing left to lose, in this God-forsaken prison
Until I saw the food they served and quickly lost my appetite
Just shortly before I lost half my teeth, in my first prison fight

I lost my hearing too, from the loud whistles and bells
Then I lost my health, from the unhygienic prison cells
I had lost so much it seems, I dint care anymore
I was lost inside this misery, I wondered what life was for

I had lost my religion, so it didn’t matter if I prayed
One thing I wanted to lose, was my memory but it stayed
By the time i was free, I had lost so much time
Lost my youth in prison, now an old man without a dime

Deep down I knew, I had lost the will to live
I was losing my mind, wished my days to be brief
Am about to lose my life, death is about to win
My grave will be lost, in the cemetery am put in







Copyright © Jack Nganga | Year Posted 2015


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a kiss that showed no love

Judas was a disciple and a kiss he did convey
to let the soldiers know whom to arrest that day
Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss that showed no love
as a kiss is an expression of love that mankind thought of
but why did Judas pick a kiss as the symbol for his bad act?
why did he choose this gesture of love as a part of his attack?

Judus was a Zealot and patience is not their forte
they wanted Jesus the Messiah to make His move right away
with an ulterior motive in mind Judus tried to force Jesus' mission
unable to see that it's about God's timing and it's always God's decision
yet some think that Judas was weak in his discipleship
as he was not one whom with Jesus had the closest relationship

as humans we are creatures of ambiguity we all have some bad and good
we all have the propensity to misbehave and act as Satan would
we all have a bad seed in us that if the Lord God does not pull out
will flourish over time and have us acting out

now when Judas kissed Jesus, Jesus acknowledged him as friend
but for thirty pieces of silver Judas sold Him out in the end
from weakness to wickedness but for God's saving grave
the Human race would not even exist in this place
Like David a man who the Lord God took to heart
for David never tried to justify the bad acts he did impart

now Jesus the Christ came to us as a living sacrifice
He was God's greatest symbol of the love that He had for human life
for God loved us so much that He sent His only begotten Son
who only had a love for us even after His dying was done
high on a cross at Calvary with His last breath
He asked Father God to forgive us for bringing about His death

we do bad things, we carry out acts of betrayal, evil and killing
the things that man has done to man be it accidental or willing
a kiss that showed no love was the gesture that Judas gave 
but Jesus still had a love for him even after He arose from the grave
 








Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2011


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The Devils Daughter



I am the devils daughter born from a bad seed
If you cross me in any way Ill make you pay indeed,

I am very colorful but, watch your back
I love to wear dark clothes especially black,

I think of myself as a different breed
I suppose I am right because I will make you bleed,

I love power yes I do the more I get the more I will dominate you
Don't try to fight it because there is nothing you can do,

Walk in front of me and I won't follow
So walk behind me and I will lead you to a hallow,

It will dark where you can't see
Don't try to get more than what you need,

I love to play at the devils play ground
Because in my world he is world renound.

Written By: Unique Poetry 2013....just a poem about the dark side...





Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015


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Take Care When You Judge

take care when you judge
the good seed and the bad seed
grow in the same field


Copyright © Joe Murphy | Year Posted 2014


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Bad Seed, Weeded Bliss

She brags about everything she has
With childish hyperbole, arrogance, hubris
No humility, no empathy, no conscience
That's why full of s**t  rhymes with narcissistic

Her celebration - - - expecting wedding presents
Blessings and gifts for a child molester?
What would be apropo?
Perhaps a bridal bouquet - - -

Hmmmm - - - how about - - -
A circle of vienna sausages on a stick
Surrounded by an array of baby's breath?


Copyright © Dymytryk Argyl | Year Posted 2015


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A Friendship gone wrong

I try to be a good friend,
why can they not see.
Somehow they always want it to end,
saying it's because of me.
I try to be respectful and kind,
all are fine and talking happy.
Then another day something is in one's mind,
I don't understand or see.
I've not done anything wrong,
I always try to be there for them.
Somehow the friendship is no longer strong,
now I'm the one who is always wrong in the end.
A friend like this I do not need,
hurting me, I cannot take any more.
Perhaps they are confused in their mind and a bad seed,
I best just walk away and shut the door.


Copyright © Diane Pennestri | Year Posted 2016


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Yellowhead Highway

Yellowhead Highway

(Outside the doorsteps of wilderness).

Riding in the back of the car
Smell of gas leaking, gone too far
Engine filled, should remain empty
Down this #1 Highway to oblivion
The road signs get his attention. 

Now he knows it's time to go
Wandering through the fields they shall go
Back to the bad seed they have sown 
Land ripped up and root of good fruit exposed
Bad seed scattered around by the human hand.

Seeds scattered across the land;
Underneath frozen fields like tundra
Where the land begs him to wander
Land of burning fields, scented of ash
Mixed with the blossoming wild rose.

Land of volcanoes by the sea
Land of endless space into eternity. 
Haunted by its flush fields left fallow. 
For future yields with many more 
Harvests through the coming years.

Burden of development, dreams in tow
This bag of seeds across a ship on the sea
Eyes through the firelight into descent. 
Upon shadows beneath aurora. 
Hollow aphorism except for life.

All visions a trick of the mind
Eyes blinded by not the heart
Made with valour through years of strife 
Fields of mourning for soldiers
Died upon fields of flowing blood.



Copyright © Stephanie Kjaerbaek | Year Posted 2013


Details | Bad Seed Poem | Create an image from this poem.

DODO-ITSU-not a Dodoitsu

With long legs and elongated beak he came,
wearing trunks and a black sash 'round his waist,
smelling of 'High Karate' and wearing a blue headband,
the 'bad-seed' leader of Jujitsu and martial arts, we all faced!

This was no panty-waist or mealy-mouth bird-brain,
no chicken-livered fowl that worked for scratch,
No!  Here was a true blue hero, a real egg-ample to us all,
Dodo-itsu - master fighter, a feathered leader that all hens longed to catch!

For years he taught us how to fight with beak, claw and wing,
and then for some strange reason, he packed up and went away,
some say that he got too old to teach and then became extinct,
but I believe that he was called to battle and still is fighting today!

©Jane Richer
02/26/2005


Copyright © Jane Richer | Year Posted 2012


Details | Bad Seed Poem | Create an image from this poem.

bad seed

field of planted seeds
  moonlight rises zombies
   evil road exceeds
detache bodies 
no lawyers doctors just a nobody


Copyright © danielle horan | Year Posted 2011


Details | Bad Seed Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Fallen Leaves in the Rain

It’s such season.  Even during those long and gray rainy days,
in the drought under the scorching sun, and in the storm that visited with the great flood; the bad seed sown in the springtime holds out till his hour has come with teeth clenched, it took the root in the ground deeply and clutched the high wind with its body, limbs, and twigs. But now, time has grown, and it has turned into red to ripen. And fallen onto earth with decay.

It’s the time of end with so much in need of need. For a flag of evil 
torn by an abandoned wind has lost its way, and importunate vindictiveness 
fades with the fallen leaves which were writhing on earth that grows harder 
with the last breath to find a place to dig, nevertheless, there is not even 
a drop of water to wet the chapped lips; nevertheless, no one comes 
to help close the eyes which are out of focus.

It’s the wretchedness in the rain. In such a solitary hour that even 
the setting sun lost its glory. The torn evil flag was going with reciting dirge 
to blaspheme God, demolishes the thickened clay wall, struggles desperately, 
and set down the coffin of the sorrowful vindictiveness.

It’s the season of tragic Hellenic mythology. There is no way to fill up 
the space between wall and wall, and sick fallen leaves tramps through 
the other fallen sick leaves, and the sorrowful maternity has to strangle 
her own born child to death.

Nibbling a displeased fruit the rain is falling 
and the fallen leaves under the foot are collapsing.


Copyright © Su Ben | Year Posted 2015