Best Fallowing Poems


Helpless

These thoughts and images could my head,
As my imagination rushes ahead.

The hurt, the pain, the heartache, the tears.
I can see you causing me these in the fallowing years.

With your words and your touch, your smell and your strength,
All of which together I cannot go against.

Every night I wait in my room, helpless, waiting for you to come up the stairs,
Waiting for my door to creak open, for the moonlight to show that your there.

I watched as you hurt her, that dear friend of mine.
You took her childhood away, and ripped away the normal life of mine.

You still haunt my life, even though this happened long, long ago.
 I wish I could forget you, but I can’t, so um forced to forever put on a show.
Categories: fallowing, pain,
Form: Rhyme Royal

Suns Journey

Where once samurai roam with katanas on the side
Where now electromagnetic trains glide
Where tsunami comes with a tide 
In Japan sun has raised silver blue moon to hide

 The sun goes on to Mongolian plane
Sometimes fallowing airplane
As it looks at saiga antelope its heart is filled with pain
There were once so many of them on the plane

It stops by Primoyre
It looks upon when Siberian tiger will snore
It already glided through Australia’s shore
In Syria it caresses with its light crusaders’ castles from ancient lore

As the zenith comes it is shining upon pharos tomb 
Because of its light this tomb
This pyramid for a soul is a womb 
On the way through Europe it saw sage bloom

As it flies through the ocean sunset is a dream
The orange and violet beauty of sunset will gleam
Below it in ocean sharks and whales will swim
Antigravity boats will one day replace motor boats as they replaced ones powered by steam

 Now the sun is above Great lakes
It traveled long distance from the moment it wakes
As it looks down at children eating cakes
It marvels at their innocence yet wonders what each later of the world makes

As it goes to Alaska it also stops by the Golden Gate Bridge 
It admires men who build it with skill and courage
But it knows that even though for long time will last the bridge
It is nothing compared to counter balance to life that created sun’s visage
Categories: fallowing, fantasy, sun,
Form: Rhyme

Winding River

The time is early spring
The glacier melts into a fresh spring
The birds in the forests begin to sing 
The magpie in her nest puts found by her golden ring

The spring turns into a stream and fallows the butterfly
That has a on its wings ornament in shape of an eye
As the butterfly will fly
More water the nearby streams will supply

Stream turns into the river that is winding through countryside 
On the way it sees the wolf that in the forest will hide
The deer will drink from it when their mouths will dry 
Above it hawk with his keen eyesight through the air will glide

The dam made by assiduous beavers is laying in the way
During the night the visage of the river reflects the stars of Milky Way
Latter the river passes by stacks of hay
And children swim in it during the day

Fallowing the otters to the canyon river flows
The rapids make sound that through the valley echoes 
The white water makes powerful billows
On the canyon walls there are remains of ancient past that in time froze

Those remains are of mosasurs that are hidden in those walls
Sometimes a bone to the river falls
They are clues to the earth’s past and maybe to future that it befalls
As well as hidden hand the soul of earth that from the ancient time calls

To complete its destiny
The river will flow into the sea
That with its violet blue eyes looks up to skies mystery 
Its magnificence and majesty written in spirits’ essence like words on a trophy
Categories: fallowing, river,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


When the Door Shuts and Opens

With beautiful brown eyes peering to see the outside 
With a bobble head so cute to be cuddled and kissed
Why would you considered locking such a poor thing
Eyes that want to be free, with glee of hope to see
A short life it may be, but such thing does not concern
A young lost being, a human that should have been 
The door slowly shuts but the little peering eyes want to see
To see the outside for that smile he saw with others
I dreamed that I was being put into a kennel 
But really it was a small room, away from everyone
For days I was given food, and shots trying to keep me
I was sick for a couple of days lying in bed on my own 
My heartfelt slow and energy draining me
Finally the door opens and they took my temperature
My arms swelling, had to poke it to let things out
I did not cry, I did not move, I just lie there
Something came to me laughter of energy
What was it again, was the door open to hear or to see
My heart beat faster, causing me to focus on eating
The food that was in the room was days old
I ate it with no complaint, I drove death away
The sound that I heard was so familiar
I was not tall enough to look out the window
But some familiar voices was calling my name
It made me strong, it made me happy, it brought hope
Tell me if my door is open or shut for the reality
I hope the people that is near to me, could open that door
Days passed they brought in familiar voices and faces
I sat up wiping my eyes, to see, I was sad but happy
I asked in my mind I was so young to say why the door was closed
Why was I in here? Was it to be safe or was it no one wanted me?
Finally I was to walk through the shut door that was open
Till this day I have this dream, does anyone want me?
A lonesome heart that was shut out, and lock within a door
It takes bravery to be a child that does not know
People should look at one there a spitting image of an adult
When forced to become one, is your child locked up
Did you close that door too soon, I remember just to be 
That child fallowing the images before the door shuts
And when the door opens that child is looking at you
How do you feel? When you see eyes sparkling without fear
Categories: fallowing, absence, abuse, conflict, depression,
Form: Narrative

Garden

Chokeberry bush is gardens’ heart and soul
 As it grows proud and tall
It produces barriers that can be eaten whole
Or can be made into juice and liquor during fall

The grape winding vine 
From which we make wine
The wine tastes divine
And its smell is very fine

Black and white currants are like pearls of the sea
Even simple gooseberries about them have certain majesty
Raspberry like red diamond of African steps glowing mysteriously
Strawberry here now gone tomorrow remind one how quickly time will flee 

When wind will blow in orchid time will cease
And all paradoxes also cease
The awareness of soul will increase
And alleviation of troubled heart will put spirit at peace

 Wild rose queen of all flowers with wall will be aligned
One could spot it even if he was blind
Fallowing the divine smell and taste it leaves behind
It reflects the greatest divination of greatest form sublime and undefined
Categories: fallowing, garden,
Form: Rhyme

Night Sky

Night sky

I stare at the night stars
and I start a conversation
with the good Lord of ours
about his great creation

Of life I asked him
I said ''With all the beauty
why must we go through all the strife
of this little ol' world.''

''If there is a better way
for a cowboy in the is world
why all this heat
and wind so bitter and cold?''

''If you would answer me
show me where to go
please show me
please let me know.''

He didn't show me
that night
Nor the way I asked did
he show me the light.

But when day broke 
over the Great Divide
I finally saw things
from his side.

He gave us this place 
to grow and prosper and strive
and there is no struggle in life
with him on our side

So I'm gonna be a cowboy
in this lonesome land
and live my life
fallowing God's great plan.
Categories: fallowing, cowboy-western, faith, upliftingme, me,
Form: Cowboy Poetry


Landscape - Conway, North Carolina

Cotton
Swooning acres of it
Cotton
Brown bush withering miles of it
Cotton
Fallen ground level clouds
The white of it
Memory shaking shrouds
The plight of it.

And all this innocence of white
The black earth yields
All this - strands of phony light
In dry fallowing fields
The rigor of it
Clothing a back bending history
The vigor of it
Building from blood a white economy
The stillness of it
The dead silence about it
Memories of the cross
And resurrection
With no stone rolled away.

The cross
Consist of so many varied expectations
The loss
Of something beyond mere integration
Cotton - clothes the mind with meanings
The sheer beauty of it
Sin and sorrow forever the gleanings
The wind sighs
In fearful tumult of the spirit
Categories: fallowing, black african american, history,
Form: Free verse

Undertaker S Daughter

The magnificent visage of the moon shines on
Even if it is almost dawn
The music is playing with melancholic tone fallowing mc’s baton 
Its late everyone wishes to go home not aware what they would spawn

The music is short and carless the air is muggy and it’s dark
Only loyal trees whisper in the park
The undertakers make a final ark
On the coffin there is no flag even if there should be two or any other mark

Next day undertakers’ daughter puts fresh flowers on the grave
They smell nice like oceans wave
There is no prayer for that soul would save
On the tombstone no engrave

But in the pupils of undertaker’s daughter so deep grave could fit in those
There are tears as on the grave she puts blood red rose
As she does that cold wind blows
Smelling like raging sea full of billows

Undertaker’s daughter don’t you dare weep for me
Only my mother and moon can do it you see
How dare you think you can control my destiny?
How dare you say deformed when addressing me?

Don’t bother me and take your flowers back they are a wreck
Or dead or not I’ll snap your neck
I don’t want you my grave to check
My soul is to make my own and per maximum trek

You have noting on my soul
And your paradox will not stop it from ascending to greatest hall
I will not be stopped by grave wall
You can fade away like mere autumn leaf that is about to fall
Categories: fallowing, halloween,
Form: Rhyme

The Place That Manifested Destiny

he was in his early twenties, life told him to move on, but he was unwilling, convinced that where he had planted his seeds, they would grow. he denied every wind that swept them away; every rainfall that drowned them out. he prayed that the sun would shine, but it never did, and he felt betrayed by the passing of time. he thought little about the original health of the seeds he had sewn, which was the biggest fallowing of his harvest. for several seasons, he dug his hoe in deep and turned the dirt over and over, adding what manure he had and hoping for the best, but still naught. then, he noticed that the neighboring farm was sprouting with solid stalks. the sun had been kind on the other side of the fence, and he could not for the life of him understand why. he convinced himself that his neighbor stole his seedlings for himself and left him with the weeds. surely, that must be the case. he planted, he watered, he worked his hands to the bone. and there were his barren fields, and his neighbor sipping sweet tea. he was unaware of the farmer's dedication to his land, and his lifetime spent cultivating his soil. he didn't know the farmer's preparation for the seeds he had finally sown, and so he conspired in anger, and in envy he raided his neighbor's fields under the cover of nightfall. with his sickle, he chopped the crops at their knees, bundled them up, and dragged their remains home. he spent all night replanting his hacked harvest deep into his dry and rocky soil, and when the sun rose, he stood amidst his bitter and dying garden.
Categories: fallowing, eulogy,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Premium Member Home Is Blue Dust

“Home is Blue Dust”
Running scared
Sweat
Running down, body covered
Colliding with and torn root
Feeling fallowing hands and knees
Bear grow bellows behind
Prey moves faster
Harder to see
Bear claws dig into dirt
Increasing speed
The human moves mouth full of dead pine
Running is fast confusing
	Looking back
Running to the clearing 
Grass and sunlight
A hunter tires.
Runner halts doubles back
Runs back down at an angle wide
Falls sliding face down and tumbles
Scrape, gash, bruise, thud
Off the side of tree
Pine ancient peels off a layer
	Fresh sap oozes
There in the distance 
Quiet under the trees
A broken vase of blue dust
	Extraterrestrial
Attraction a spell said to the silence
The bear claws at the human’s eyes
© Cs Parker  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: fallowing, absence, adventure, america,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Awakening of Self

Blissfulness upholds the surrounding environment caused by awareness. For every breath taken don’t be mistaken it wasn’t a miss take in for every breath theirs a reason; As is each and every season some taken, yet a lot givin.
The new light of each day I begin by searching myself within while closing my eyes fallowing my breath as it fills my lungs and finds its position.
Eyes weak yet filled with a dark glaze as I ask my 3rd eye to take me away to the place I needa be; there I will surely see what I need to do an who I need to see. 
Strength filled all over my body from head to toe, if ya know ya know. upward ability allow my self to flow beyond all possibilities that I may know.

Rested yet learned all that I needed to know for the path that was shown and where I might roam .
Thoughts of what the next light of day im to uphold shall bring forth.
concluded thoughts that remain unclouded but in sync; here now are such possibilities so clear for such wonder, yet the next step is for thou destiny to spring up an arise as is my vibe.
Categories: fallowing, absence, america, analogy, anxiety,
Form: Rhyme

Eyes

those eyes they haunt me 
fallowing my dreams 
locking themselves inside the corners of my mind
creating a picture of what i was not suppose to find
created by you the horrors that i see
the secrets that were locked deep within
the forests of me
each tree another day 
each rose another kiss
each breath another hope in the darkness of the abyss
each path another road to the puzzle left behind
the lost memories that i hoped i could never find
terrors hauting i see those forsaken eyes
i can feel the breath apon my face
the hands wrapped tight around my neck
ghostly hands that only my eyes can see
the gun in my hand i swear its not really me 
just a reflection of evil hidden inside 
locked within the beauty of the beautiful
rose left to hide
each tree another day 
each rose another kiss 
each breath another hope in the darkness of the abyss
 the smile of a child to hide those hideous eyes
what you will never see and i will never find
Categories: fallowing, sad, tree, day, hope,
Form:

The Old Ways

You ridicule the baobab tree
Where the village 
After the abeng was blown
Meet to chart each new destiny

Speak of the old ways
As primitive and ancient
But crime was not rampant
Like ants scurrying in their nest
Biting at everything
And young girls did not walk
With babies
Before they had finished school
And young boys
Did not pile with nothing to do
On dusty corners
While fallowing fields turn to ruin
And families did not fall apart
Like dry corn
Shelled from withered cob.
And we knew how to disagree
In our conversations
Without the circus economy
Of unjust courts and corrupt police
And we were not civilized then
Because we were happy men.

Where the baobab tree use to be
A gym is there now
For children who do no work again.
Categories: fallowing, political
Form: Free verse

His Shadow

I am walking in his shadow
I have never seen his face
But I’m on the road he traveled
And I pray to match his pace
But each step he takes is perfect
I’ll not match it this I know
But I’ll just keep on walking
In his shadow as I go

He walks the straight and narrow
Not veering left or right
I walk along the edges
Still keeping him in sight
But I see things off his pathway
And I’m tempted by their glow
I’d be lost without him
In his shadow so I go

He knows that I’m not perfect
So he casts his shadow wide
So even if I misstep
It’s right there by my side
And I see I can recover
And get back up and so
Fallowing in his footsteps
In his shadow I still go 

Mdailey	7/7/11
Categories: fallowing, inspirational, religion
Form: Rhyme

What We Became

for all the love we show for our hero's
what we became to see is reality 
hero's is a name who some people shame
some don't even see what freedome is about
untill time runs all out
what we become is fallowing in our fellow's
foot steps with many rep's
time can only tell hoping it won't be too late , if we don't look at our hero's
of the U.S.A. who cried and died for those
who they saved , then what will we become ?
with every stone and tag each name is engraved , to remember the ones who 
loves us the most dies and tries to keep one thing
in mind every one is born blind till some one leads the way one day to a door so 
they can see of what we became .
© Darla Mau  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: fallowing, inspirational, peace, thank you,
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