Best Fig Tree Poems
Our fig in January, entirely denuded now
like my heart in your absence, is but
more beautiful, if possible, in its seasonal
solemnity than in summer's exacting extravagance.
The trunk, grown massive in manhood, is a citadel
of strength supporting the curving bowl of its
branches as they bend back into themselves, becoming
the bare black sculpture of winter trees Hemingway
described in Paris in the Jardin of Luxembourg
where we used to walk, following in his footsteps.
These prayerful branches, grown as large as
the beanstalk giant of storybook lore, cup
the sky, making a sieve through which rain filters,
better for unobstructed passage to its
earthbound blessing, clearer for the distillation.
Above ground two massive roots, more visible
in winter definition--veins from the beating heart
of the tree--though siblings still, sprawl out
in different directions, then disappear wherever
they are traveling, who knows where? Not
climbing skyward like Jack on his leafy ladder,
but earthward out of sight toward a Southern
provenance, toward Provence, perhaps,
as if impassioned for home.
HAPPY NEW YEAR FELLOW SOUPERS!
(God's Patience with Sinners / Final Judgment)
LK 13:6-9
And he told them this parable: "There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard, and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none, he said to the gardener, 'For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none. (So) cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil?' He said to him in reply, 'Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.'
Reflection
People make mistakes
Fig tree is like a woman scheduled for abortion
President Obama mandate is to take care of them
Leave it for this year
It will develop and bear fruit in the future
fig tree on round isle
forces imminent response
a round-eyed delight
2/26/2015
Jesus here speaks of a fig tree
this tree was barren having no fruit
A man had planted it in his vineyard
but the problem was down at its root
Now the man wanted to cut it down
he wasn't willing to wait and see
just in case fruit would maybe come
but the vinedresser had hope for the tree
What was a year going to matter
if a year later it came to change
then leaving it proved very wise
if not you would look very strange
Jesus showed you don't know what's next
in your life that barren could come to life
God is looking for fruit to be born
for if not He'll need to use His knife
The purpose of sending His holy spirit
is to fill His elect with Jesus alone
removing their sin that Christ died to atone
then the spiritual fruit will blossom and grow
(The Parable of the Barren Fig Tree)
(And he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came seeking fruit on it and found none. And he said to the vinedresser, ‘Look, for three years now I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and I find none. Cut it down. Why should it use up the ground?’ And he answered him, ‘Sir, let it alone this year also until I dig around it and put on manure. Then if it should bear fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.’”)
Luke 13: 6-9 (ESV)
A shelter for man and birds
With green mulberry-like leaves
Known for Zachaeus' salvation
When he met Jesus
For Francine Roberts' contest:'Flowers,Trees,Grass or Bees'
Your fig tree in January, denuded now
is more stately, if possible, in its stark seasonal
solemnity than in summer's exacting extravagance.
Its trunk, massive in manhood, is a citadel, supporting
the curving bowl of branches as they bend back
into themselves, becoming the bare, black sculpture
Hemingway described in Paris in the 'Jardin
de Luxembourg,' where following in his footsteps,
we once strolled among old men playing
chess, lovers entwined on park benches,
fat city pigeons seeking sustenance.
These prayerful branches, grown as large as
the beanstalk giant of storybook lore, cup the sky--
and two gigantic roots, visible above ground
in winter definition, should they be feet, would
rock our foundations. Sprawling out in different
directions, siblings still, they disappear below earth
to wherever they travel--who knows where?
Unlike Jack on his leafy ladder, climbing sky-
ward, they turned toward some
southern provenance: Provence, perhaps,
as if impassioned for home.
Fig tree fruit...fig tree fruit...fig tree fruit
Eaten by toddlers...fig tree fruit!
Gave elders stomach ulcers
Be careful for this is a fishing bridge
Elders warned...
Play not here lest you tumble into the river and drawn
Adamant!....the fig tree fruit
Birds do not play on a sticky trap
They emphasized
Rebellion!....the fig tree fruit
That is sweet and also this!
“Made a jumpy greedy cat fall on its back”
Wisdom of ages not heeded....fig tree fruit!
That one is better than this one...
She said...infidelity!
Where is he now....tears!
“Snuffing tobacco is the one already in your nose”
A sound adage...”for the one on your finger belongs to the wind”
Regret!
A husband is worth your respect...treasure him
“Spite not a male grasshopper”...never forget...
Wealth is not love...love it not!...good advice
“A foolish woman tares down her home with her own hands”
Says the WORD!...a fig tree fruit
Guard your ears
For hearsay destroys the home
Watch your words
They are seed...in due time you will reap!
Tears you will shade...to your knees regrets you shall whisper....
No comforter
Naivety is what you are doing...warning!
Halt before you are haunted
Where you are staying keep your eyes open
For trouble is bred by those close to you....
In your sojourn...remember...
Jealousy, envy and malice abounds
Plotters and schemers are always around
To some places...revert not
For foes there your life can snare
The fig tree fruit!
I only sang to the old fig tree
As it trembled under the wind
I promised you since you left
I'll drink grief enough for both of us
I'll open like the gulls
My wings on the horizon
And under the November sun
I'll wade into a cold Natifah's brook
Inviting your friends who accompanied you in the war
To our old home
Sitting next to our old fireplace
Talking about our homeland,
How the men descended
Two, three and four toward their death
Talking about storms that flooded homes
About horses that plunged into rivers
So that shadows became frightened in their land
Talking about one who
Still kindles the wet firewood
And how the rooms are filled with soot
After the flames stopped
Talking about what they did
What they couldn't do
About your heart hungering for holiness
How you passed death twice
Thus death returned defeated
Once you made from it, a home, a door and a lock.
We'll talk about all of this
Until the wind shakes and the fire is extinguished
Then I"ll recall in my mind
How everything around me was just empty seats
Ah how bitter you are
O Wind!
When you took all the warmth
All the love in my heart.
Ionah:part four
( Fig Tree Bloom )
It was just a fig tree touched by creations grace
To shade and hide anothers face
Keeping the scorching drying heat
From scorching his tired and weary place.
A worm it stirred beneath the soil
Growing on roots like an oozing boil
Taking the life sap of the tree
Destroying the fruit as it grew and blossomed.
Did this worm from a sea serpent come?
Hidden in side his tattered clothes
Bidding its time for a moment precise
Killing the bloom from the inside.
APMcintyre 2012.
How beautiful my fig tree is, truly,
It is shaped like the arches of a cathedral,
In a verticality, full of symmetries,
Let me fall in love with my fig tree,
He seems to think deeply like Socrates,
It seems to stop time, like a statue,
On the light that is like birds,
Let me fall in love with my fig tree,
How beautiful my fig tree is, surely,
He seems to caress the beauty of the world, then
He appeases the city of its natural tranquility,
Let me fall in love with my fig tree,
My fig tree has more secrets than me, baby
It includes the silence of happy women,
Its leaves like fans capture the wind,
Reflect the immense serenity of the jealous sun,
Let me fall in love with my fig tree.
Qu’il est beau mon figuier, vraiment,
Il se dessine comme les arches d’une cathédrale,
Dans une verticalité, pleine de symétries,
Laissez-moi tomber amoureux de mon figuier,
Il semble penser profondément comme Socrate,
Il semble arrêter le temps, comme une statue,
Sur la lumière qui se pose comme des oiseaux,
Laissez-moi tomber amoureux de mon figuier,
Qu’il est beau mon figuier, assurément,
Il semble caresser la beauté du monde, puis
Il apaise la ville de son immobilité naturelle,
Laissez-moi tomber amoureux de mon figuier,
Mon figuier a plus de secrets que moi, chérie,
Il comprend le silence des femmes heureuses,
Ses feuilles telles des éventails capturent le vent,
Reflètent la sérénité immense du soleil jaloux,
Laissez-moi tomber amoureux de mon figuier.
A Blossoming fig splashed with sunlight to paint it Green,
rooted the earth against the winds,
branches stretched
Abroad,
To cool with the breeze, traveling stems,
fresh leaves on, like wig
on a lawyer's yet
childless its
bore,
though chastised by its season,
and caressed
by nature.
He traveled from afar to get close to it
Bathed in Baptism,
slept the forests
Walked ages, seasoned the days
period the time,
Smiles the
miles
full
of nights.
stood by it, gazed at it, gave a hug chime
nonreciprocal greetings
Splashed beck at
him childless
its bore cold
its stood
fixed the
earth
With huge bark, dark brown
Earthen roots sunk deep
down, broad fragile
stems yet a
childless
its bore.
Out stretched arms stems
The cardinal of the earth
The leaves freshening.
Still yet childless it bore.
Angered wore his compassion
With beautify attires
And spat fire
from His
scripture coated tongue
splashed
it on
her
To bake it withered and dry, No soul never taste
Of thy vine to dine childless
your fruit till forever
comes
Thus it paled off
childless and fruitless
Its withered.
Mark 11: 12 - 14
20- 27
N/A
6/5/2020
BRIAN'S SELECT 5,any form,any theme
6/2/2020
Owner of a fig
tree, tells the carer to cut
it down for been a fruitless
failure for three years,
carer says it will be cared
and yield or it will be cut.
As scripted.
All is given ample time to grow and bare fruit, if they remain fruitless, more time will be afforded to them to grow and bare fruit, lest they be cut down.
Date: 06/18/2019
Its all useless why do I even try.
I spent hours of rolling tape on my bag,
So the anger stuffing will not fly.
I have this anger in me that I cannot explain,
Pain shoots up my back then tells my brain.
Calm as I can be thinking it’s the pills they feed me.
Little do they know It’s my broken spirit on a fig tree
Fig Tree Of Life
By: Sami LaRose
9/30/12
Are you in a haze today?
Maybe a little blazed today?
Don't lie to me sunny, just tell me the truth and than we can get over this little problem with me and you.
You see sunny smoking pot is okay if it's modern, but don't go and be jumping off no cliffs
And don't be smoking that Jeffrey ****.
You dot go blowing lines of coke, or sit there and watch people shoot up dope.
You got that MDMAzing on ya face sometimes but thats okay if you do it over time.
But all the same it's all illegal, so lets say we never had this talk
Don't be a weasel !
A flaming circle alighted on
fertile soils near a fig tree and
harbour of hope to savour
struggles for freedom
Love here was arrowed
steadfast or ephemeral
I disembarked to open
cultures at deeper dimensions
Mastering spirals of colour
I soldiered well trod streets
where priests and imams laced
fingers blessing ardent marches
My soul tussled with unshackling truth
a flat mountain strewn with coral proteas
was my purple majesty to manifest
dreams from fearless courage
In this land of deserts and waves
Love opened hundreds of doors
to deliver itself in all its splendour
and all its pain as it ignited gain
My atoms weaved history and heritage
traversing an incredulous African reality
where life illuminated piquant fruits of
my own making to relish or relinquish
Embalmed by a Creator who guided
sure footsteps to an axis in a spinning
crystal at heart’s core where joyful tears
are a solace for my Southern Land