Best Pomegranate Poems
She counts the seeds
Of my pomegranate heart
The same, always the same
No matter how many times she counts.
Her fingers are stained
And though she may wash and scrub
There I will be
In her skin, lodged in places
Where she cannot wash me out
Pomegranate
Careful, tentative and delicate tips shiver over the forgiving skin
Shell barring the bloody body of the fruit
Only condemned to,
consumption
Bruising without protest
Its sweetness not asked for - only expected
Though some things are more beautiful broken
Love, like a pomegranate can be bitter sweet.
Its tang lingers long after laughter swells.
The soul puckers pleasantly with each bite.
A luscious love, precious and unique, thrives.
Life’s enchantment surrounds sweet-tart living,
Likened to the whitest pulp around twirls of tasty arils.
The future surrounds a delicious serving of dreams.
Where seeds of friendship are consumed in sweetness.
The pomegranate willfully waits, wanting to be devoured.
Wildly proclaiming ecstasy since the butterflies’ first visit.
Fabulous fantasies frolic from first inklings to forever.
Reality rushes its rivers of waters roaring through rapture.
And springs forth this rare exotic fruit, ripe, raw and savored.
Budding beautiful love, which sings songs and satisfies longings.
Lively and luscious, unconsumed love triumphs over lust.
Spiritual passions simmer in life’s sizzling heat.
Tasting, like believing in enchantment, brightens beginnings.
Waiting awakening, flavors life like spicy pomegranate seeds.
Delightful daydreams dance upon the redness of love’s peel.
And reality races to anticipation’s castle in the sky… imaginings ravishing.
Faith hopes that happiness hovers where respect and honors hold.
Perfection placed where enchantment becomes reality and fears forget.
Love’s season is savored more deeply and sincerely as lovers learn.
That beneath the hard peelings in life, sweetness grows, everlastingly.
© August 22, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
I crack a pomegranate every night
Yesterday's juice a sad delight.
Bloody red and faintly sweet
Every kernel a glistening treat.
My teeth stained red from yesterday
Bitter kernels cling to bitter tongue.
Spit the bitterness so far away
Pomegranate dreams for the very young.
Glistening skin is ripened red
Yesterday becomes a crooked crutch.
White skin, red flesh puts pain to bed
Contrast in yesterday's delicate touch.
Break the skin, reveal the treat
Bury the seeds so very deep.
Pomegranate juice so red and sweet,
Regrets are there for me to keep.
I crack a pomegranate every night
Yesterday's juice a sad delight.
And so today forever will pay
For the secret sins of yesterday.
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Rays of the sun there in yellow red glow,
Grass wilting brown which is fanced by the stone,
Whispers to crickets: »Our time here runs slow.«
Outside the city where the pomegranates throne,
Whistles are born in the shadows they've grown,
Water is scarce and by hot sun consumed,
Pomegranate's taste still to all men is known.
Outside the city where the pomegranates bloomed,
You were and I by our sweet love perfumed,
Problems in city were locked far away,
We were by moment so joyous consumed.
Outside the city where the pomegranates say,
»Moment has passed dear, and she went astray.«
I'm in theirs shadows in warmest July,
Wondering what caused our love to decay.
Outside the city where the pomegranates die,
I'm standing up throwing my youth awry,
Story is shifting to city aglow,
Pomegranate garden I wish you good-by.
Juicy red rubies
Glint in fleshy covering
Soon to be devoured.
My pin pricks each seed
Scarlet liquid spurts once pressed
Oozing with goodness.
The sweetest flavour
Such succulent refreshment
Dancing on my tongue.
love pomegranate
floral and fauna embrace
phileo eros
Not one, three bowls of lovely pomegranates
Look, the passion incarnate
Love or hate as you like, please don't desecrate
Gateway to glorious ecstasy
Of serene sensuality holding supreme creativity
And the all seeing mighty eyes!
Invitation to the abundant festival of inhalations
‘Come, honeycombs are ready
Bees throughout eternity, come and benumb
Come here and swamp the boat’
Under the lavish moon there in the dark lagoon
---------------------------------------------------------------
25 February,2016
Contest: Visualize Scrutinize and Remark
Sponsored by:Forever Malta
Memories of years gone by
the fruit shop was our first call
that lovely redsome fruit
shaped like a cannonball
A pomegranate is its name
cut in half with a knife
showing those juicy red seeds
made your tongue come to life
This fruit bearing shrub
originates from Iran
has many health benefits
and is good for all of man
poetgord@2013
a pomegranate
with ruby marbles inside~
sweet n' sour delight
outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
is where we buried the years six feet below.
all of the magic clung to the tragic
and we knew it was not time yet to go.
but of all the love,
i would not erase a single thing.
all of the memories,
i want to remember everything.
we saw Aphrodite serenade a dove,
and Eve, dripping scarlet nectar from her mouth.
and everything seemed so succulent
even through the drouth.
when we looked into the heaven's eyes,
i saw my own rebirth.
understanding the purity,
fearing its responsibility,
we followed the footsteps
of the first woman on earth.
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Sat a heartbroken maiden full of sorrow.
So sorrowful was she that the veil she wore
Was full-wet and soggy as never before.
I knew not the lass, nor from where she had come,
But the sound of her sobs set my heart athrum
So into the grove where the pomegranates grow,
I hurried astumble with sweat on my brow.
I reached the fair lady - she looked up alarmed,
I gently assured her she wouldn't be harmed.
More soothings I uttered to make her at ease,
And gently inquired what so disturbed her peace.
She looked deep in my eyes - I thought I would die,
The words on lips gibbered and wouldn't come by .
Mighty deep were the limpid pools of her eyes,
Drew my soul under, my words were but sighs.
Her eyes said it all, nothing more need be said-
T'was clear she was mourning for her love who was dead.
All that I gathered in a moment of time,
Don't ask me how for there's no reason or rhyme.
I felt my blood drain and knees to jelly turn,
The real and unreal I could not discern.
My reasoning all gone my vision was blurred,
A sigh that was deep and her burden transferred.
Outside the city where grow the pomegranates,
Lie row on row of headstones caskets and crates.
For here lie the wicked, the good and the rest,
Some died in their sleep, but many not so blest.
Some souls here do wander in search of their loves,
And prey on innocents in pomegranate groves.
Cut open pomegranate Christmas lights aril
Syrup drips erupt bitter volcano alluvium ooze
Blackberry gall sullies crust creamy caramel
Chroma pervades pavlova cracks in lilac hues
North Pole prepared sugar sack, sans limit
Blizzard whip season removes several months
Egg fragile igloo glitters in shell smash grit
Featherboa snow stiletto cabaret flamboyance
Santa avalanches resume a ruby ice unity
Investing in fuel for rocket launching research
Sleigh's sky laughs at axle trapped gravity
Astronauts unconcious core to raunch dessert
13th March
Thirsty for Departure
what an autumn juice!
beautiful dark sweet neat pink!
so natural way!
The world is somehow a pomegranate
Every individual of us in it is the seeds
Having stayed similar to juicy tastes
Holding together long yawning for grace
Dreaming to germinate in the spring breeze
And to grow up and stand tall in the soil
Blooming virtually and quietly in the Sun-rays
And to appeal the amethyst for your please
Oh, lord! You'd be proud of thee for all
For so many myths, you leave there to face
And so many choices given alike in blind dates