Best Planted Poems
The rosa blanda embroidering your face
will become the veins in my tongue reaching to clog my throat
go past the tonsils and vocal chords and windpipe
down and down still, burrowing into the esophagus
relentless in its pursuit, just, just, just to lay seeds in my chest
tumor a pea, peanut, grape, walnut, lime, matilija, peach, grapefruit
straining muscle surprising itself with the ability to withstand the stretch
craving asphyxiation, those lungs may covet paroxysm
but grieve not the fulfillment of a destiny
this ache, this devastation was meant to be
no, they won’t be careful of what they wish for
you’ll become the air I swallow, and the organ that inhales and exhales it both
viciously lush beauty anywhere and everywhere
so when you see the body that used to be mine,
you’ll gasp in horror or awe or both: which one? I’ll never know
the garden you planted nurses no speech, nor soil, nor hope of infertility
just a promise of bloom and perpetual harvest
a pretty letter from dainty lips, viscous honey quenching its thirst
a giddy blush warming embryos out of stout cases
a brush of apple-sun cheeks dawning moonlight-budding leaves
just a gaze and my heart will melt,
sand that brazenly melds into laminated glass
gifted to strong hands smothered in peppermint lotion
who will keep it safe in their loops, whorls, and arches
brindle cedar irises roots to this infatuation
their existence cruel to a poet who only knows
words mere facets unworthy of describing
fields of cosmoses a cosmos itself
choking on fantasies and tears of scarlet drupes,
I retch out garlands born in guileless meadows
and as the last petal falls,
the sweetest rose hip takes branch
its only sin a love too big
I planted a lily
A long time ago,
And was given the chance
To watch the plant grow.
I'm sorry to say,
That chance I refused.
A delicate flower
Should not be abused.
It needs to be nurtured
With plenty of sun.
Not shoved in the darkness
Where damage is done.
I planted a lily.
I hope you can see.
That without my presence
A flower's set free.
The sunflow’r burst through red roses.
Still sleepy eyes - skyline poses.
Unseen angels lift up the light.
The saint below shows sheer delight.
Worship the Lord where you’re planted.
Coffee sipped and bible open -
The living word that we hope in.
Sitting beneath Gazebo shade -
Blossoms incline at Jesus name.
Worship the Lord where you’re planted.
In afternoon, the waning day,
The swans know it - nature’s ballet,
slowing down. The rush of sunset
in pink and blue. Remember -
Worship the Lord where you’re planted.
Moon shines through trees, a peaceful light,
Onto the folding buds - the foresight
Of love, that cares so much for us,
Revealed in due time, God’s sure bless.
Worship the Lord where you’re planted.
7/26/2022
Leave My Feet In Poetry Now Firmly Planted
I tried, compose a revelation poem about truth
Did that in earnest, in my wild but honest youth
But with mind fighting a stone wall nothing came forth
it was as if I fought as South against the North.
My brain had shifted into a deep murky haze
I was prisoner chained by a dark-cast craze
Each dawn I rose against a grey, terrible front
All my verses came out silly or rudely blunt
Aggravating, torturous to the nth degree
I gave it a go, took a vacation to flee
Not a damn clever thing I tried seemed to work
I ended up thinking am I fool and a jerk
Failed, threw my hands up and said, to hell with it
I cried out, had me a bad uncontrollable fit
I took a short vacation to a white sand beach
Seeking again, to my ran away muse to reach
As the ocean waves into my soul did soft splash
I ran around shopping spending loads of green-cash
Soon I forgot about all by having good fun
Rose each new dawn saluting the rising gold sun
Eight days, my time was spent exploring deeper life
Soon gone was any shred of hardship or dire strife
That morn, I rose seeing sun's sweeter golden rays
I discovered a much truer life in newer ways
That very night I sat down with pen in my hand
Out like magic beautiful words about this land
And then in another poem sweet love of true youth
Verses and verses slung about love and bold truth
Then it hit me thus, my angel muse had return
No more trashy stale words would I have to now burn
My muse told me she left to a hard lesson teach
She came back not because of words I did beseech
She came back when I had forgotten to her so love
So she left me to deal with dark world's push and shove.
That cool night, I wrote a superb poem on true love.
And if I were writing hand, muse is my dear glove.
Swearing never again, to my muse take for granted
I leave feet in poetry, now firmly planted.
Robert J. Lindley, Rhyme
Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; Today at 10:14 AM.
My sweetest of flowers, they blossom and grow
From God’s miracle garden, from seeds we did sow
Hair of yellow, like daisies, and cheeks filled with sun
My sweetest of flowers; yet still very young
Each is an individual, though equally special, as well
In our garden of life and love, forever they’ll dwell
They are daughters of the earth, our love to receive
My sweetest of flowers, from love were conceived
Grow Where You’re Planted
Written: by Tom Wright
February 2015
Leaves displaying the colors,
Of a painter’s palette,
Came gyrating,
Aimlessly toward the ground;
While raking, I mused,
If I lived in the desert,
There’d be no leaves beneath my feet.
Then upon intellection,
Nor trees to provide me shade,
From the desert’s scorching heat;
When you are young, change comes almost daily,
It could be good, sometimes could be bad.
You will be molded, trip thru life gaily
You tried to do your best with what you had.
Then as an adult, change starts to slow down
With multiple jobs, and sometimes spouses.
You accept that life will sometimes turn ‘round,
With all it brings, the fear it arouses.
With advancing years leading to old age
The changes in life are thrust upon you.
As body parts slow, leaves you in a rage,
It’s unfortunate, nothing you can do.
So live your life, take nothing for granted,
Accept all change, and “Bloom where you’re planted.”
I planted a seed, so tiny and small ,
And the seed opened up , to feed 'one and all'
What enchanted a seed' I dropped in it's hole ,
And it's skin broke to pieces , and it started to grow .
O'h the magic of nature' how it's coming along ,
" Tis the Seed of salvation ,come to take us all home ,
So get off of your rocker , and go sit on a chair ,
Do not ponder your future,
Cause it's all written down ,
Just beware he is coming ,
Do not yell, scream or frown .
I am your hope , and your guide ,
And I won't let you down
Cause I showed you my Garden ,
Planted seeds from the 'Crown .
It is time for repenting
Come to me as you are ,
And if you refuse me ,
Your time won't be too far .
Dreams Seeds Planted
I grow the best seeds given in my dreams,
I hold the flavor of that feat;
Although a freeze may hit my streams,
I shall not admit brutal defeat ...
Yet life can and will serve all the more
Against dark blades stabbing in the night,
With my crop growing on another shore
Hope prays to end this desperate fight.
Watering my crop with needed warm tears,
My hands never sit vacant and idly by,
True sense of purpose allays my deep fears
Even if saddened, my life can still fly.
Onward! My passage is deliberate and slow,
I defiant, planted with stoic, firm feet;
Face this world, with my heart in tow,
Harvest my crop for my hungry soul to eat.
I will not allow defeat to crush my heart,
A thought repugnant to my wishful mind;
Each morn gives another chance to restart,
And live dreams that a sweeter love may find.
Robert J. Lindley, 10-14-2015
democracy’s seed
oblivious public freed…
for our flag they bleed
By Robb A. Kopp
© Nov.13.2012
You planted a garden and must make a decision,
As some varieties become very independent,
You are the one that has to control this situation.
The corn grows tall, creating massive division,
Suppressing all others, becoming the one percent.
You planted a garden and must make a decision.
The squash is crafty by wondering in any direction,
And steals nutrients from others without consent,
You are the one that has to control this situation.
The tomatoes spread through rapid disconnection.
Their vines hold others down through dissent.
You planted a garden and must make a decision.
The potatoes hide to avoid any infection,
Become the underground within the basement.
You are the one that has to control this situation.
So remember, you are in charge solely by election,
And every plant is part of those you represent.
You planted a garden and must make a decision,
You are the one that has to control this situation.
By Greg Stanley
Cry out to me at night in my dreams,
And please be happy and devoid of screams.
Take me away to heaven with you,
And we'll be sacred once more,
No one else, just us two.
Be honest about your fears,
I'm always here to listen.
Talk without reservation,
I'll always be here without condition.
Make me cry for you,
As I always do,
And pull me through the valley,
Where all is soft and new.
The morning dew will glisten,
And sparkle in the breeze,
I'll let you fall on me,
From the tallest of the pine tree's.
I stated my decree,
I proclaimed all my views,
But I'd still die for you,
Did you even have a clue?
A clue that we all needed,
all of us knew,
That darkness would be the death of you.
You were so blue in the morning,
And black in the night,
Out of crazy mind,
Into insane sight.
No fights were shared,
All the glass on our toes,
So slippery trying to walk,
Not wanting you to know.
Cuz' if you knew how we felt,
Your guilt would've been worse.
Rain followed you around,
like a cloud with a curse.
I can't believe what has happened,
Since that sad day to went away,
Not even your kids or animals,
Could have made you stay.
You were in way too deep,
Deeper than a ditch,
On the side of the road you walked,
With stitches on your wrists.
But way out in the fields,
I planted you a flower,
And I water them everyday and every hour,
Your taste turned sour,
And sweet was your desire,
All all of a sudden,
You fell into the fire.
A fire only you could feel,
And for you it all seemed too real.
You stole my spirit,
When I pray can you even here it?
But I've been around way too long,
And I keep hearing our old songs,
Without you all along,
Your death has finally made me strong.
Uneasy as a drunk,
Unsure as a thief,
Your zipper just broke,
With rips on your sleeves.
What was it you wanted to achieve?
Just to find happiness and be free?
You brought me to a rainbow,
Then I fell upon my knees,
I beg you to visit me tonight,
Bring butterflies pretty please.
I needed you, and now you're gone...
I need your memory to make me strong.
Once I told a married Baptist missionary, I wanted to be one. Carol said, "Roxanne, Everett needs missionaries too." She meant I should bloom where I was planted. But we both were much younger then.
Transport myself into the 21st century. I am no longer a Baptist, but am a Lutheran. I am no longer middle aged, I am sixty-five years young. And I try my humble best. In spreading the good news of the gospel on the internet. Reaching more people than I ever reached before.
And I am no alone. Many poets and Biblically commentators are much better informed. Not to mention more talented than I ever will become. What we have in common? Our mutual love and respect for Jesus Christ. We are all part of the body of Christ. We are a part of his established church. We belong to him. He is the bride groom and we are his bride.
We need to bloom where we are planted. In many parts throughout the known world. The good news of the gospel is prohibited and restrictive. Many modern day disciples pay the ultimate price. Sacrificing both their freedoms and also their very lives. They have obtained a wonderful heavenly reception and rewards at the Beama seat of Christ. They will be reaping what they sowed.
There is an opened door for spreading the good currently available in the United States. I am composing this while there are no real restrictions.
I visited a Christian web site. I tried to post a bible verse on Facebook.
It was not allowed because some people might find it objectional. And they feel they have both the privileges' and the rights to restrict religious speech.
In the good old United States! I dearly love and pray for my beloved homeland.
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
March 06, 2020
What makes God sad?
What makes you sad are what make God sad
What are you sad about?
Are you sad when you see injustice?
Are you sad when you see people wasting life
on drugs and nothing to eat?
Are you sad when you see the world turns another ear, eye to what goes on in the world?
Are you part of this world or not of it?
Are you so desensitized that you don't feel it
know it, recognize it?
What the h can you do, you may ask?
You can do nothing or get involved
You can start by feeding the homeless at the shelter
volunteer at your church
and tune in as to where you can be of help
God does not need to remind you
That when you are blessed much, much is required
So that is for you and me
A directive
Go and do your things
Make a flower
Plant a plant
Grow where you are planted
Are you planted?
I planted my heart
I planted my heart
now broken and shattered
So deep in the earth
for nothing much mattered
Then sat on the ground,
my teardrops now flowing
When before my eyes
I saw something growing
The tiniest stem
from the dirt it was breaking
A beautiful green
by now was breathtaking
When then came a bud
this afternoon hour
It seemed like real soon
there would be a flower
But what I did see
that came into being
My face wore a smile
from what I was seeing
For there on that stem
was something alluring
Filled with such joy
and love over pouring
A friendship it seemed
had grown from our parting
I dug up my heart
the healing was starting
And knew on that day
my garden endeavor
Had bloomed as a friend
I’d have for forever
Yes there is still love,
I can’t stop the caring
And that I will keep
for now I am sharing
My life with this girl
with smiles and laughter
And we’ll be best friends
happily ever after