Best Blume Poems
Dear Judy:
As I scrolled anxiously through my inbox, flipping through needless letters, hoping for an answer,
I suddenly realized that out of all the emails Ms. Blume receives, I was taking an awful heck of a chancer.
And soon enough, there at the top of the pile, there it was: An email from Judy Blume.
My face lit up like a match to a lighter, and I beamed a great big smile, shining brighter than the fullest of the "blooming" full moons.
Full of inspiration for my being a compassionate writer, and much knowledge gifted from her to me for my being able to succeed,
The brilliant Ms. Judy Blume had surely given me all the information I would need.
And soon enough, before the blink of an eyeball, here I am now, signing autographs, and at last, giving all the advice I can possibly afford to give in this competitive literary market, to younger students than me, I am now using the quote that Judy Blume secretly told me:
Read, read, read and write, write, write.
And now, from the dear Judy Blume, to me, I wish you all a good night.
(Something Seemingly Insignificant and Unexpected Changed My Life – Poetry Contest) 8/24/16
Eine Blume / A Flower / Una flor
Eine Blume blüht mir jetzt
zu dieser Zeit.
Ach hätte sie doch auch
für mich geblüht
in der Vergangenheit!
A flower blooms only for me
this very time
Oh if it would have also bloomed
for me in earlier times!
Una flor florece sólo para mí
en este tiempo
¡Oh, si también habría florecido
para mí en tiempos pasados!
Die Zeit verletzt und heilt
Der Zeit ist der Mensch egal
Man verliebt und sich entliebt
im Laufe der Zeit tausendmal
Man verliert und spart sie
Man bereut’s wenn sie vergeht
Man fühlt sie auf dem Gesicht
wenn der Wind kalt weht
Die Zeit ist das Aufgehen der Sonne
der blutrote Himmel bei Dämmerung
Die Zeit ist eine verblühte Blume
die beim Fenster steht zur Erinnerung
Die Zeit ist die Tränen aus Wachs
als die Kerze zum Ende brennt
Die Zeit kann man nicht fassen
ist doch alles, was man kennt
Ein kleines Kind (Satis Shroff)
Es war Fasnetzeit,
Der Winter wurde vertrieben.
Die Leute trugen bunte Kleider
Um den Karneval zu feiern.
Isolde war gekleidet als ein Harlekin,
Mit farbenfrohem Kostüm und einer Blume
Auf ihrem Kopf.
Sie sah ein kleines Kind vorbei laufen,
Hob das Kind hoch und umarmte es.
Sie schloß ihre Augen und summte ein Lied.
Ihre innerster Wunsch war, eine Mutter zu werden.
Jetzt hatte sie ein Kind im Arm.
Wie süß es doch war, die Wärme des Kindes zu verspüren.
Das Kind schien es zu gefallen,
Es wurde ruhig und mochte ihre Wärme.
Isolde träumte oft sie wäre Schwanger.
Jeden Morgen erzählte sie die anderen Patienten,
Und dem Psychiatriepersonal:
‘Ich habe gestern Abend ein Kind zur Welt gebracht.’
* * *
A SMALL CHILD (Satis Shroff)
It was Fasnettime:
The banishment of winter,
When the people are motley dressed,
To celebrate carnival.
Sandra was painted like a harlequin,
Wore a colourful costume
And flowers on her head.
She’d seen a child walking around,
Held it up the child and embraced it.
She closed her eyes and hummed a tune.
She’d always wanted to be a mother.
Now she had a small child in her arms.
What a delight to feel the warmth of the child.
The child seemed to love it.
It became quiet and liked her warmth.
Sandra dreamt she was pregnant every night.
Every morning she’d tell other patients,
And the psychiatric staff:
‘I gave birth to a child,’
With a happy smile.
* * *
Perfection
is like
The laughter of children.
The fragrance of a flower.
The song of a bird.
The heights and depths
of two lovers.
These are moments of beauty.
But there are many moments
in a lifetime.
They all vanish
into the past
.Vollkommenheit
Ist das Laecheln eines Kindes,
der Duft einer Blume,
der Gesang eines Vogels,
und die Intensitaet von zwei Liebenden.
Das sind Momente der Schoenheit.
Doch es gibt viele solcher Momente
in einer Lebenszeit.
Sie alle entschwinden
in die Vergangenheit.
Before the godess I am
A sea of beatres
that in time
will blume
brightly
into grand
butter fly's
that fare the nectar
of the sprit
-Rhyme-
Ice is cool
Ice is warm
I am soon
to be in blume
-Haiku-
Ice is my life
Frozen in my heart beat
The solid of water
-Arocrstic-
I am ice
Civil yet
Evil...
-End Line Word-
But in the End
The Frozen line
No need for Words
-Foot note-
...There Frozen in time
Oh,my dear pear shaped mother's womb, Where unborn baby develops and grows well, Like a fruit that grows on a plant's blume, And it has a consciousness of its own as a cell.
Oh, my dear lovely secured locker, Which acts as a guard against external threats, Like light, sound,shock and pressure as a blocker, And it saves future generations as valuable assets.
Oh ,my dear beautiful muscle container, Which floats the unborn child in the odourless fluid, And it supplies all safeguards to the new gainer, Who doesn't breathe air in the safe womb kit.
Oh my dear fantastic flexible protector, Which makes the foetus to sleep 14 hours every day, Its slightly yellowish fluid used as a sweet nectar, And pediatricians are astonished by its role play.
Oh,my dear first class room of the unborn baby, Which provides parental learning for the young one, Where foundations of traits are established greatly , Nothing is equal to mother's womb and none.
You have named your daughter Sappho
you have named the hills with halo.
We take the next walk to a room
fed with different hues about blume
its chaining unbridled powers
bring the central motif in hours.