Best Growths Poems
The heavy fog slowly lifts in places
Open patches of spring delight and resounds
The look-out crow caws, joyous news abounds
As rooster's crows lands in hollow spaces
The rising sun warms pale skin with graces
Awareness of a stillness settles around
Coo of the dove seems to calm and propounds
Thoughts surface above the calm, one races
Wildlife has no idea of what's ahead
They know not that storms could come and flood nests
Dens, wreck havoc, seal their fate, end life's joy
Humans bounce singing there's nothing to dread
Weak, untested in the fire, growths arrest
One incident will probably destroy
Finis'
Wont you find me here?
Drifting in an expanse of swirling storm
Outstreched fingers graze debris...
recklessly circling reminders.
Stand in the eye with me
Hold
This
Ground.
Lick our wounds rebounding
Warriors victoriously smiting circumstance
leaving wolves discouraged
disparaging darkness with insane glee
Walk here and find me
Reach out think here
You create me and I construct you
Piece me in missing places
Mending voids delicate and knowing
I slay inherited growths of insecurity
Stating truths untold to your beautiful ears
Combine
Know this warmth....
Let these branches sprawl
grow in all directions to withstand walls closing in
A grand old tree would remain...generations of our eyes
taking glance from limbs strong and true
You crush my cycle--end it's existence
I'll destroy your boundary...kill it's constriction
Our tower stronger and rooted
Yet with loftier cloud grazing height
lets disorient ourselves in this foreign altitude
Touch this sky with me
I shiver beneath a frozen sky of milky gray and white
and like a little rabbit whos barely grown into his coat
I linger in the forest bristling like a dry piece of wood
I was detached from my father like a youngling discomfit
I come from a prideful bush of green but its not who I am
settling down under, on a large tuft of mulch
I am the last living acorn settled no longer in the air
but when Autumn sings her song of mellifluous swell
I seem to outlast every flower of her time
Life is but a series of spurts, growths, windy dances
let it be said, " the apple doesn't fall far from the tree"
but neither does the acorn as far as the eye can see
I shiver beneath a frozen sky of milky gray and white
I'm not a blade of grass, nor an eagle, nor an elk
I am an acorn with a little french beret, …
April 17, 2020
Summer is here with its extended day light
Mountains are giving up on their accumulated stock of snow piles
The river is gushing with vigor carrying fresh cold water supply
Its dancing bubbly liquid is glittering in the sun’s sparkly stimuli
She comes meandering through luscious mountain valleys
Making the surrounding land enriched and generously fertile
Old and new trees of fir, pine and oak stand along her rims
Keep the mountains green and healthy for the roaming animal breeds
The change of the season is showing new growths on the tree tips
Many daisies and purple sweet pea flowers are covering nearby fields
Gorgeous red planted roses are blossoming in the sunlight
A Grapevine is also showing a start of new fruit to my delight
Dark blue magnificent Stellar Jays welcome visitors by their loud songs
Showing their bold inquisitiveness swooping from branch to branch
A pair of black Phoebe birds kept flying on the water to catch flies
Bringing back food to their precious chicks in the nest above a windowsill
A loner mink showed its appearance time to time after sunset
Hurrying fast to find a meal before hiding back into his cozy den
A black bear visited a few times in the darkness of nights
Happily wandering around the shared land after humans are gone to sleep
A visit to the rhythmic mountain river brought energizing breaths of refreshing air
Helped me notice and learn from the simplicity of nature’s behavior
Oh, Lord, I think we need a magic knob
that's somewhere on one arm discreetly placed.
When activated, it would softly throb,
alerting us to nearby pain it traced.
At this time, we'd adjust our hidden disc,
permitting us to live another’s woe
with comprehension flowing, at no risk;
a moment, and our fellow man we’d know!
Their physical impairments we would feel;
their cancer growths; their each disease and ache.
Great grief, depression – all would be made real
and wisdom gleaned for everybody’s sake.
Or would we with our gift be soon repulsed
and fill with hate for those for whom it pulsed?
Feb. 13, 2020
For Unseeking Seeker's A Spiritual Wisdom Download Poetry Contest
Today is the day I've been longing for
The day good things came together
The day of first steps,and shrinking growths
You could have knocked me down with a feather
A day when our dreams look like coming true
A wonderful time for me and you
A time for miracles and love without end
I'll love you forever my darling,my friend
Dwelling abandon neglected
Not at all picturesque
This decaying house
Been condemn now for nineteen months
From the roof to the porch
Harvesting ferns in garden
Overgrown growths wild grasses dandelions
Up the swaying staircase
Window,door crack and broken a mess
The sun and wind whispers through the downspouts and eves
Condemn and abandon only one on the block sees
This abandon decaying condemn dwelling
While over the yard weeds prostates growing rosette wilds killing
This nonpicturesque abandon neglected decaying dwelling
7/16/20
1st Place placement in Contest
Decaying House Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
There once was this witch with a massive beard
Her suitors loved it, which sounds kind of weird
She did have a razor
But preferred a laser
And would slice wildly if large growths appeared
By
David Kavanagh
Cut the cancer,
Lance the boil,
Oil the rash,
Gash the unnatural growths
Inside your soul.
And splash on sentiment, afterward:
Cheap antiseptic, but it won’t sting.
This Is My Wish For You My Son
Watching you grow up my son
Blessing can’t compare to none
The years have gone to fast, but it has just begun
Wisdom of the past lessons
Helped you in your growths passion
Wisdom of responsibility, compassion,
And being kind has built up your ambition
The past confusions are what has condition
Made you happy with enthusiasm
Don’t stop growing in your wisdom
I’ll give you into the hands of God’s evangelicalism
This is my wish for you my son
The years have gone to fast, but it has just begun
Blessing can’t compare to none
Watching you grow up my son
By: Eve Roper
12/28/2014
water weeps wildly
whilst washing away your
jesting foolery.
I saw the sun annihilated
Against backdrops of liturgy
Lethargic activity that earns
It’s title as the Earth’s endearing child
Against backdrops of monogamy,
Pedestrian thinking,
Accelerated usage,
Lapping up mentalities from bowls of pulled poultry,
Doing nothing for the Universe, Yet stealing all unities,
Dissention and green lights and babies birthed and apostrophes in time,
Influencing the way we work on thinking of ourselves as HUMANS, As people, not things.
Growths, from children to adults, the contortion of time, the peeling of fate, the sweet sugar coating like a scab on your life,
Bleeding out of your heart and seeing out of your eyes and feeling through your brain and feeling through your synapses.
Here are the producers of the broad way show of assimilation
Here are the problems, Here are the irregularities with the hole in the boat, But don’t worry everything is now under…
Black as a burn on white , yellow as a can of
Cream, not yellow at all.
Not nothing but irregularities we perceive as
Potential ingredients in life.
But in greed, is what we are, in need
Not so much, Thinking SO outside
Of the box, that the box has grown
Legs and walked away and has grown
A full beard and a full head of ideals.
And we are trapped outside of this fully
Matured matron of mystic answers.
And we are pleading to God to be let
back in...
But you know something, GOD IS IN THAT BOX TOO.
And you know something else, inside all of us
Is a little box opening when
It's ready to breed a plague of
Insatiable urges.
A quest for self.
A journey through self.
Black and blue benches where a man sits,
Breathing, he breathed.
Waiting for his anti-matter mother to annihilate him,
But less than he believes because anti-matter
Kills not what it touches, But what it needs to
Kill itself.
A piano, might be boxy and Brute-Like
But might mean more than piano
To you.
It might mean the 'end is nigh'
For music is the sound we hear to
feel forsworn,
to feel filthy inside of ourselves.
GOOD, GOOD
But remember, the Doctor is here
And he is watching from inside
The box, and he's sitting over a cup of tea,
With GOD,
In that BOX
"Le vent se leve, il faut tenter de vivre."
"The wind is rising! We must try to live."
-Paul Valery
Feel the gust that flows unnoticed!
Hear the subdued growths of air
That grow like a nearing beast
Ferocious, with a wild glare
For the wind is rising.
The glorious power of nature
That can awe yet make fear -
A spectacle of eternal dreams
With pace, approaching near
The wind is rising.
Lo! It comes with a sudden flow
That takes with it whatever resists,
Through the oak, over the hills
Beyond the boundary of all limits;
The wind rises.
Behold its might! Over dark meadows
It flows, causing the grass to dance
Now here, now there, uncontrollable
It vanishes in the moment of a glance;
The wind has risen.
None can match its glorious pride
Even the mighty trees bow before it;
The wondrous monster sweeps past all
Its toughened arms pick dust and grit;
The wind is flowing.
It rushes past the valleys deep
Triggers rocks down mountain slopes
Its speed and power, none can stop -
A free horse, it breaks all ropes;
The wind is rushing.
Invincible, it marches on
Like an emperor feared by all,
A dictator, with power not measured
Rise of a legend, never to fall;
The wind turns violent.
The silence breaks, the barriers too
The wind zigzags amidst mountain peaks,
It bellows in the forests dark
The young, fatigued willows creak.
The wind is at its pinnacle.
Then the drizzle comes, then the thunderstorm
And oh! The fierce, mighty beast
Declines as raindrops fall
Dies down forming mist;
The wind fades away...
Yet its marks are vivid on the landscape
A spectacle of its enormous strength
It will revive, as a vicious beast
It would return again at length.
Free yet fierce, elegant yet wild
The angel who visits the human world
And all is lighted by his trail
And the might of nature is unfurled.
The wind had risen
It will rise,
As a voracious beast
To have all that suffice.
After a rainy night,
The sun rose shining bright.
Tree leaves coruscated,
And luxuriant turf covered the vale.
How sweet the grass so full of dew.
Birds left their nooks,
Twittering around the skies
How dazzling the vale
Reflecting a glorious sight.
A small rill tumbled down
The rugged hill tumbling over smooth pebbles.
Mossy growths sparkled
With ferns and silverweed now sprouted new.
NATURE’S HUGH ANCIENT LANDSCAPE
OF GREAT GREEN FOREST GROWTHS,
MEANDERING MULTI PURPLE MOUNTAINS
AND COOL CLEAR WATERS
UNDER A BABY BLUE CADILLAC SKY
WITH KIDNEY SHAPED WHITE AND PINK
COTTON CLOUD FORMATIONS
AND HEAVENLY BODIES SPOTTED AFAR
WE CONTINUE TO TRY TO IMPROVE YOU
CUTTING AND PASTING
ON YOUR SURFACES
LIKE AN OUT OF CONTROL PHOTOSHOP COLLAGE
BUILDINGS, INDUSTRY AND MAN-MADE IMPROVEMENTS
CURVING BLACK ASPHALT ROADS
WITH WHITE STRIPES DOWN THEIR CENTERS
BILL BOARDS AND WARNING SIGNS
UNTIL YOU ARE ALL GONE
AND WE NEED TO MAKE MORE WAR
OR DO MORE SHOPPING ON THE INTERNET
FOR SOMETHING MORE TO DO
UNTIL WE ARE ALL GONE
AND NATURE’S HUGH ANCIENT LANDSCAPE
OF GREAT GREEN FOREST GROWTHS,
MEANDERING MULTI PURPLE MOUNTAINS
AND COOL CLEAR WATERS RETURN AGAIN
UNTIL THE NEXT BIG BANG
I was fit and feisty at fifty
It was no big deal
Because that's how half a century
Is supposed to feel.
In my sixties I'll take stock
Start making great plans
Ignoring all the 'you cant's'
And embracing all the 'I cans'.
Can I be sexy at sixty?
and try all the fashions and fads
Wear stockings and suspenders
And Joan Collins shoulder pads.
I can deal with sexy at sixty
And wear Vivienne Westwood clothes
Dress up and go out on the town
Wearing all my buttons and bows.
I'm going to be sexy at sixty
I'll wear Gok Wan lingerie
Find myself a toyboy
Then maybe lead him astray.
Swift and sexy at sixty
When I get my Jimmy Choos
Dancing the night away
To the sound of Rhythm and Blues.
Oh! I want to be sexy at sixty
'cause age is a state of mind
I'm preparing my body at keep fit
So as not to be left behind.
But first, I have to deal with
Old skin, Bad teeth and Grey hair
Then remove the unwanted growths
From just about everywhere.
Then I'll definitely be sexy at sixty
And undoubtedly done it all
The only problem is that
Most of it I simply won't recall..