Best Biome Poems
Let’s fly to the celestial fiesta of the cherry blossom,
In the North Eastern Region of Shillong, named, “The Scotland of the East,
The abode of the cloud,” in the lush mesa of the magnetic Meghalaya!
The wheezing Pine forest of the whispering waterfalls in the Khasi hills,
is bustling with the nature’s fairytale of pink, white and ivory!
As far as the eyes can see, the rolling tableland is ringing, ridden by the radiant petals of cherries!
Neither Japan, nor Paris, a mere remote region of Indian plateau,
Glowing in nature’s sublime glory of pellucid picturesque pinks!
Nicknamed, Prunus Cerasoides, the cherry blossoms,
a delightful boon of Himalayas,
are blooming profusely in the magical
verdant highland of the East Khasi hills!
The November is rippling with
moonlit music, plethora of flamboyant folk dances,
pageants, stalls to cater to the globetrotters’ penchant for the ethnicity
of the fur-flung region’s tribes’ cuisines, wine, arts and cryptic crafts!
Such bedazzling is the serenity of the panaromic platonic plateau,
As folks of the vicinity, are traversing despite the rampant pandemic,
to glimpse the shangri la of the richest biome of the floral magical lane!
The resonating frolic of the chirping and twittering from the cheerful cherry bushes
are teeming with the twirling bliss, intoning,
in winters whistling whiff!
A nature’s bounty, a pamphlet of picturesque hamlets’ terrains of aromatic sensuous purity!
Blessed are they, who have witnessed the once in a lifetime scene of crystal clean roaring rivulets, murmuring brooks, the ravishing orchids, quirky root bridges, aesthetic lakes and rills, scented wild flowers, encompassing the enigmatic cherry blooms of the mystic land of the majestic mountains!
An euphoria to have a ride amidst the clouds of the misty moorlands,
gliding languidly to take the signature of the mementos of the moments;
to kiss the plateau of wild orchids, flowering Cherries and sacred woodlands of those Khasi hills,
crackling with the sprouting, cherry blossom festival of the far East!
Azure blue skies weep in rent glacial torrents,
iridescent earth sun trap poised to garner sympathy,
dark red cloud’s indignant float might yet rumble,
toxic deluge drenches mudbank plot as toilers whine,
thunderstruck I gaze at wild indigo sea mist on brine-fleck shore
Edge of seat terra firma species orange alert mere bluster,
grim altitude apocalypse for amber moon orb,
rampant shower pockmark with visual scar as trenchant plague,
vapour trail from lachrymose horizon now a shrunken haze,
alarm bell’s doleful peal across an impact cratered expanse once sumptuous mint green
Stream of gurgling silken brook upon reciprocal bright cadence,
otherworldly pine from volatile nebulae’s damp swathe,
vapid biome acreage a gaunt reflection though surreal,
despite magenta stardust twinkle whose infant phase corralled
by wayward drizzle
Hemisphere by half redolent of sombre devastation,
yet exotic visual haunt is that vaunted shadow zone,
sweet maple leaf ether bound refuge from monsoon rife,
pot of gold opal strewn paradise escape hatch,
from lesion blight topsoil or open sore empyrean
Purple leaf and bell pepper cascade swirling o'er panic stricken globe,
perfume clad hillock under hawk-eye squint,
denizens idyllic foster atmospheric canny urban vault,
they hobble gingerly on salmon pink stone bridge en route to harried terrain rescue
Biology, biodiversity, biomass, bio this, bio that. You don't get I want to just throw u in the trash.
Your biogenisis, the binary fissure, a bilateral symmetry, and the bile. Well, it's enough to make one go senile!
B-I-O-L-O-G-Y don't you get that I just sigh? B-I-O-L-O-G-Y Please...don't even try.
Biome, biomolecule, biotics. I'd really rather play on my electronics.
Bipedal, bisphere, it's enough to make one fear... B-I-O-L-O-G-Y Sometimes you make me cry. B-I-O-L-O-G-Y I'm just trying to get by. B-I-O-L-O-G-Y You really should be a crime. B-I-O-L-O-G-Y Oh my....
INTO THE WILD
I dreamed ......
An arboreal wandering into the wild
Creeping in narrow-leaved green herbage
Afraid to be mashed by other wolverines got riled
Their safe abode is now in the siege
The rampage and stampede make a harsh noise
Joining the rumble will stumble into near-death
Swiftly moving away, intend to do a ploy
Taking hold of strength and a grasp of pure breath
Chasing the weak and hear the piercing shriek of pains
The fauna now in a vain attempt to meet and regroup from the maze
A lurking prowler just outside ready to take his aim
A Carnivore’s rendezvous dealing another round of faze
Forays refrain them from regression
Marsupial bearing young is watchful and vigilant
For a hostile entry, a swift run from apprehension
Saving the younglings and safely back to Taiga so verdant
With balsam fir’s magical warming in winter and cooling summer
Tall trees get blown over osiers, shrubs, and miniature spruce
Hear the wind swayed the trees gently just like a hummer
A walk to wet spongy forest ground that has a soft carpet of moss
A truly look at life into the wild is precarious
Feeding on flesh and a quench from trickling stream
Some nocturnal species tending to be gregarious
To survive in this biome is a short-lived dream
Previously posted in voicesnet.com poetry site last 21 October 2009.
Flying airships battling in the open sky,
the sailors trying to save their own lives,
and all the panoplies of war revealed in broad daylight
unto the human psyche.
The cosmos composed wholly of oceans with no dry soil in sight
contains many micro planetary islands that glide
in the sky's atmosphere where men created their different ways of life.
Herdsmen hunted on the island's green fields and forests.
Soldiers worked in their iron workshops.Crystalline lakes displayed nature's beauty. Many a gorgeous a creature of nature they captured in their nets.
Stratigos,a hunter, also loved to fish in the clear streams abundant with eels. His dear friends followed him throughout the biome, witnessing many wonderful sights
such as tigers,trees,eagles and pollinating bees, the lioness giving suckle to her young,and many a mythical creature that defies explanation."
Raised he was in a quaint village,in whose verdant plains he played with all his pals.His female friends gathered many rainbow-colored flowers by whose sight and smell were made ecstatic.
Upon a certain day,a flying chimera snatched his friend Mike with its aquiline talons that tear apart its prey.The lion-like chimera with an eagle head concealed him in his cavern hideout,unseen by human eyes.
He analyzed his body and psyche to see what was worthy to eat. In despair Mike's cries for help resounded through the cavern walls.He heard his own echo.
From afar his friends were dashing to his aid through the dense vegetation with thorns drawing upon their blood. Red it was, stained upon their drapery.
They complained not at their pain for their aim was to aid their endangered friend.
Stratigos exclaimed;
With Mike in danger,
surely we must not fail him,
For friendly fidelity
Faces us with the task
of his salvation.
Alina replied
Through the mud and sun that scorches our way
We must pick a path and dash as fast as trotting stallions
for our cause is noble and pure,
so Therefore let us not be wasteful with our pace.
And they arrived upon a green moss covered road that drove Them to a grotto surrounding the creature's cavern.
We should have gone outside instead of watching one
of the sillier, senseless, meaningless movies it is possible
to rent or buy. Winter or not the fields and woods
are at least real, commensal and understandable if
you know the genus and species. Know the genome
and biome. Learn the physics and music.
But this much reality requires an escape, hence
bad movie. A bad book is better than a bad movie.
A good movie trumps a bad book, but a good book is best
and a great poem trumps all. Will my son Zach be one
who applies the scientific method? Can Aaron explain
God's intentions to the people? Their mother and I will wait.
pine, spruce, larch -
be my witness
as i lead this pack of wolves
across the taiga of existentialism;
i am the biome of conflicting identities;
my winters are harsh, my summers, mild:
i am the earth -
i am its plains, its forests, its rivers,
on which we graze, hunt, and drink;
i am the oldest of the conifers, the fir of might and age,
i am the sad, forgotten spirit, the looming apparition,
the boreal winds, the storms of ice, the murky sea,
the hoarfrost in the foliage of pines -
i am the spectre over moors at night, wailing the lost love,
and when i dream,
i dream polewards, and in saudade:
boreal night, lull me to sleep -
i can hear the ambience of the Östersjö waves.
Beauty of nature is in its dictum.
The world is being stratified,
here life and plants are as the guide,
charming consensus of the stratum.
Hushing tones of the swinging pines,
hikers often do approach,
how the flowers claim for touch -
miscellaneous layers, medley signs.
Transparent water of streams and ponds,
human nature making bonds,
entwined, enchanted – gazing.
From the distance looks the deer
on exhausted mountaineer –
sheep grassland biome are grazing.
***
-------------------------------------
Wondering memories of wild adolescence,
Flash before me like a mental Rolodex
Reverberating daze,
Time cannot take away.
A fifteen–year–old,
Broken neck calypso.
Gazing through the jungle-o window
Unequipped to fathom what was about to happen.
I saw the moon in your eyes,
And knew;
You smile in the way that islands do,
And the zephyrs planned to bring your love back to me, too.
You were everything I imagined.
Sunlight on a dismal day,
The lone palm in the tropic heat,
A boyish grin that made my flowers bloom;
You were the Cabin Boy.
Realizing, all you can be at 23
is yourself.
And I am the wanderer's wandering daughter.
The pretty little minor that comes hell or high water,
You broke California law for.
I waited at your f i n g e r
t
i
p
s
Just his little Pisces jailbait.
Who didn't exist till 1996.
An inevitable source of panic that would rise in his eyes
Every time he kissed,
Her Kona lips.
Until deciding he had to leave,
Claiming island fever, on his way out the back door.
Lost as a half-gone waning moon.
With only the ocean’s waves continuous roar
Sunburnt, white foam, salt spray,
Condemned - to an inevitable end
Unable to prevail past the break at your soul's cliff edge.
I grab a raft to float;
In the deep waters of the heart.
Somewhere in between the no -
longer & the still -
to-come
Washed upon my soul’s sand.
Reaching out with new green shoots -
Resurrecting the chthonic biome
From deep within the molten core
Till the blocky incline fell away,
And I found myself;
On the surface of a lake of solidified lava.
Hidden within the depths of your pocket
You grab onto your pen like a plug to a socket
As a way to focus on life to know when
Inspiration consumes you and its time to write again.
When you open your heart you open your mind
Unlimited energy within you, you find
That when you do inspiration is easily sought
Now strike while the irons hot.
In a world thats suffocated by consternation
Consideration is given to infinite inspiration
Strange desolate faces plodding on the street
To the salivating pleasure of ternasco meat.
We are our own creation yearning for liberation
A chance to be free from pain
blossom like a carnation.
Realise that what we have today may be lost
Live for the day smile without any cost.
You are not some game so dont be played
Confront the venemous beasts dont be afraid.
Save money, theres a reason piggy banks are cute
Be so happy to put money in that chute.
Sadly there will be rainy days
You gotta be happy with your loot.
The paper we earn and yearn is the poison fruit
Prosper on the highway or go down a murky route.
Tell the truth, be honest and discrete
Dont divulge your mind in dark denials
Wilting as a person the walking deceased
So indulge in truth stand tall for miles and miles.
You are a biome a community of complex cells
A great individual with inate potential to excel
in anything if you channel the energy
required to propel you towards your destiny.
In the depths of your pocket lies a pen
Harnessing you to speak your mind.
When that stream of energy flows within
Start writing from the inspiration you find.
Celtic Celtic mythology,
All in the land
All in the sand
You may think real or fake
Through all the toadstools
Using your tools
There stand a willow tree
With leaves that flow free
You may think real or fake
Seeing a lock of red
In thy willow bed
Lay there a maiden
Which did not belong to satin
You may think real or fake
Wisps fly high
Without a cry nor sigh
Giants roam
Within the biome
You may think real or fake
Merrow swim swiftly
Leprechauns are thrifty
Dragons roar
Above the shore
You may think real or fake
You may cry
To say goodbye
But there they hide
Right by your side
Celtic Celtic mythology.
Seed scattered, strewn, sown
grain stuck on passive flytrap
wild life sesame
Choppy waves,
currents sing in the waining day;
They hide an undertow which wears upon the world.
Here is a biome concieved in truth
beauty born in combinations,
this chemical collective holding host to parasites and symbiotes alike
GTAC
TGAC
CAGT
AGCT
CTGA
Chains in a litmus maelstorm whirling and rattling in the space between.
See this perfect collection of acidic lego toys.
Life
and then Death.
Now sprouts within the Ash!
Barren wasteland covers this zone
Cold and white it stands,
Though what beauty reveals is so unreal
That humans walk the land.
Fierce winds torment at height
Smothering all in their wake,
But brave mountains take on their might
Ending the tundra’s crusade
Squeezed between the valleys below
Shivering they try to stay still,
For a predator watches down on its haunches
Trying to plan the kill
Trees scattered here and there
Grown by forces unknown,
Although they will survive out here
Suns warmth will never be shown
Maybe this biome seems to be
Something undiscovered,
But trees will speak if you keep
Their secrets under cover
Whatever lies beneath the snow
We will surely never know,
Maybe it’s Rosetta stone
Sitting on her lovely throne
Although there is nothing here you see
Just a young writers words,
And this is why imagination’s key
To get by in our world
Without it we would forever be
Stuck on the outside,
With nothing there except to stare
At the blank white skys...
By Parizo Van Thulare
I was born endless miles from the town
Where tales are told about the king in his crown
Where plates are treated same glass
So fragile respect is of the erything
So beautiful My land is stunning
I speak in languages of types
Pepperd with traditions
And dishes of all kinds
African made with the greatest taste
African grilled with inspiring tales
Where I come from mountains sing the sweetest
Rivers play the romance
The Baobabs are cutiest
It is the land of its own kind
My Africa ,my quest
I come far away from the mountains of Drankesnberg
They Roar with beauty .
Near Lies the tunnel of Straitjdom Lepelle flows peacefully
Full of acquatics living blissfully
The words it sings
speak for the trees
It breezes the fume of sighs
With a flavor of purple ice
Down to Mapunghubjwe I rise
My Africa , my best
The history of the greatest is unleashed
It calls upon the genius to come and aphrend
It calls upon the future to come and learn
My Africa ,my pride
I haven't done yet
Get something to write
Still I 'm here to rhyme.
Talk about the bothers of Kruger
Worldwide are known
Worldwide they are shown
The falls of Victoria
The Valleys of Zambezi
The desert of Kalahari
Lobola or mahadi
This is my Africa
See the cars in colors pouring
See nations in rainbows queuing
To see only the biggest
To witness the wrestlemania of the nature
Ohh! what a wonderful adventure
My Africa is my biome
The land of dreams and hopes
All thanks to the almighty for such smashing home
I'm so proud to be an African
I'm so down with my heritage