Best Procreate Poems
“You try to be faithful
And sometimes you're cruel.
You are mine. Then, you leave.
Without you, I can't cope."
Rumi
in the kingdom of love,
nothing is simple,
not even musings,
so tell me:
in your annoyance
do you still think of me
or am i just another
common cliché
in Rumi's philosophies
for cosmic connections,
must we be a
contradiction of circumstance
when our story has been sung
beyond the reach of stars,
so despite the dystopian demons,
i keep hope in the invisible
golden harp strings,
yet to compose our swansong
oh mistress of medusa
in splitting seasons,
when serpents spit venom,
your British horizon soul,
coupled with your
climate change heart,
procreate porcelain patience,
where rhythms of rage
lead to breathless silence,
but i never forget you
it can be tiresome
battling against
ebony lashes from
metaphorical daggers
when vertigo eyes
hunt for their prey
and i wonder if i
was at shooting distance
would you pull the
trigger to rip my
heart like shredding
secretive documents
but despite bonfire breaths,
my samurai spirit has
become immune to
momentary flames,
adopting a mermaid mind,
finding sanctuary in
deep waters until
the last ember dies,
as at the end of each storm,
when rainbows reappear,
i resurface upon your
ivory shores,
for what am i,
but a sea urchin and
you the empress of the sea,
so each time you are cruel,
i wait for the return of
tender gestures,
as i know it is your
veil of vulnerability
you hide from the world,
but in the intricacies of conflict,
i am still the moonlight
glowing upon your ripples,
as i know the code to
your handcrafted heart,
floating in wandering waves,
as you still ignite intimate spiritual
sparks of soothing sensuality,
so never abandon me - forever
in the imperfections of love,
in my abundance of flaws
i know you adore me
internally and externally,
for we are refuge and
safe haven for the broken,
like a masterpiece of
alliterative adjectives
glowing like gems
in topaz textures upon
mookaite mosaics
I know I'm no
Leonardo Di Caprio,
I've never been as
romantic as Romeo,
so love me for
what I am today,
I am not your past
of wasted sunsets,
so ascend with me like
tomorrow's sunrise
God told old Noah to build an ark,
To make it out of gopher bark.
Noah did as he was asked,
And worked until he completed the task.
Then God told Noah to gather the beasts,
Two of every kind, the hes and the shes,
So that when the earth is dry again,
They can procreate, new life begin.
All the animals were good, except for the rabbits.
Though small and cute, they had some bad habits.
Quiet and stealthy, they would roam around,
Hiding in dark corners where they weren't easily found.
You might be wondering how bunnies could be bad,
But you need to remember the reputation they have.
Hiding in the shadows, what do you think they're doing?
They're not playing hop scotch - they're cuddling and wooing.
Now cuddling and wooing isn't such a bad thing,
But rabbits are known for quickly multiplying.
Though Noah tried to keep the bunnies apart,
He was no match for their affairs of the heart.
So when it came time, the ark to depart,
The animals came out two by two like the start.
Two by two they strolled off the ark,
After being cooped up, getting out was a lark.
But then came the rabbits and to Noah's dismay,
Not two but hundreds were coming his way.
Then the Lord told them all to be fruitful and multiply.
Noah looked at the rabbits and let out a sigh.
6/11/13
Entered in PD's 101 in a row contest #5
Bit Of Truth And Wisdom, Found In Old Age
At that age wisdom says life is a joke
consider blindness of other poor folk.
Stop to ponder why on earth we exist
you may just find giving on that big list.
To live well, love hard and thus procreate
easy to see easier to relate.
Living life together with your soulmate
should be a part of everybody's Fate!
Finding life is not about what you got
should be holding solid, number one spot
Tis more about life lived well and deeper
with one you found, knew to be a keeper
If long life, happiness is your great aim
if reaching not for it, you are to blame!
Robert J. Lindley, 1-16-2017
Sonnet
She thought by marrying an older man
She would forever look young in his eyes
He led the way, ‘twas a child that held his hand
Until he met with an early demise
Older now, she finds herself attracted
To young men more likely to outlive her
But my, oh my, how her peers reacted
With choices she made, they could not concur
Fiftyish gal with a thirtyish mate
He showers her with such great affection
And he doesn’t mind she can’t procreate
But from old friends she's scorned by rejection
These friends have husbands who are cheating now
For men have desires to feel young as well
Their marriages hang from a fragile bough
As these men fire blanks at much younger belles
*Entry for Dr. Ram’s “Cougar Effect” contest
By Carolyn Devonshire
A requiem can faintly be heard
in the springtime breeze
as dandelion's morph from gold
blossoms to a crown of
seeds in downy tufts to begin their
airborne journey to
germinate and recreate with a drive
to survive even the
harshest weather, a plethora of
pesticides, and weeding.
Ah, can not the feminine form be
celebrated in comparison?
As her entourage of suitors lifts her
spirits to soar blissfully
until she establishes that one special
connection that causes
her bloom, that innate ineluctable
calling to mate and procreate.
Though trials, illness, and hardships appear,
future generations ineffably endure
in season's springtime, as love renews life.
May 4, 2016
Animus/Anima--Part 1: Anima - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Tom Quigley
Definition of anima:
NOTE: Just for the etymology of the word Anima dear, Connie! Anima, Animal, Animation and so on are words that come for the Greek word "Anemos" which in the Greek philosophy meant the divine wind which filled the universe and which wind "anemos" Man breathed in and became "Alive" animated!
-thank you for this Demetrios.
Note: I may have done this contest all wrong?
Alone; as you lie on your bed
The stars brighten, serene
Such an ecstatically lovely scene
While these visions float in your head
Imagining hues of purple: divisions of colorful red
Teardrop sparks sprinkle the room
All around in sweetness croon
The words unheard, not said.
Beauty beheld in radiant eyes
In you resides the strength of Achilles
Though at war within your smile is silly
All and sundry cries
A child unknown, underlies
This babe: birthed in the lion’s den
Whimpering song of saddened sin
Precious glowing guise.
A moments life on a dealers rate
Mommy’s whoring liquid lance
Living within your secret trance
Ungodly was to procreate
Yet yours is to a tempted fate
To feel, to float, to steal a scream
A life conceived within a dream
With this are you given another date.
Heaven awaits sweet heroin hero
Innocent babe with your precious grin
What you have now is only ten
Seconds counted backwards to zero
Alone to dwell in your place of limbo
A pasture for you, a bed of clouds
One more broken breath allowed
Goodbye sweet heroin hero.
BY: DARREN J McMURRAY
January 21,2008
IT'S SAID A FEW HUNDRED MILLION YEARS AGO
I WAS LIVING IN THE SEA
I HAD NO LEGS TO WALK
I COULDN'T EVEN TALK
I WAS JUST A SEA ANEMONE
A SINGLE CELLED CRITTER IN THE PRIMAL STEW
DIDN'T SEEM TO BE GETTING ANYWHERE
BUT THEN SOMETHING HAPPENED
I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS
BUT IT MADE ME COME UP FOR AIR
I MUST HAVE LOST MY TAIL BETWEEN THE SEA AND THE SHORE
AND I FINALLY LEARNED TO WALK ERECT
I GUESS YOU COULD SAY I'VE COME A LONG WAY
TO GET A LITTLE COSMIC RESPECT
SOME MIGHT EVEN SAY I AM CIVILIZED
BY THE WAY THAT I KNEEL TO PRAY
BUT WHAT'S IMAGINATION IF IT ISN'T INSPIRATION
IS THAT HOW I GOT HERE TODAY
THERE'S A THOUSAND DIFFERENT TALES OF CREATION
HOW DO YOU KNOW WHICH ONE TO BELIEVE
SCIENCE TEACHES EVOLUTION
RELIGION TEACHES ADAM AND EVE
I DON'T CARE IF THE WORLD IS ON A TURTLE'S BACK
OR A SUPER DUDE SAID LET THERE BE LIGHT
THERE IS SOMETHING HAPPENING, SYNAPS ARE SNAPPING
SO I'D LIKE TO GET MY FACTS JUST RIGHT
GODS SO PROLIFIC YOU GOT TO BE SPECIFIC
WHO'S GONNA HEAR YOU PRAY
JESUS OR JUDAH, MOHAMMED OR BUDHA
WHO ANSWERS PRAYERS TODAY
I DON'T BELIEVE THE BIG BANG THEORY
IS HOW I LEARNED TO PROCREATE
AND I THINK IT'S KINDA FUNKY
IF ADAM WAS A MONKEY
OR IT WAS SOMETHING EVE ATE
WHILE CHILLING IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN
SOME OLD SNAKE SAID STEP INTO THE LIGHT
IF YOU WANT TO HAVE A LIFE YOU GOTTA BE A WIFE
SO HAVE ADAM TAKE A BITE
OH WHAT A STINKER, HOOK LINE AND SINKER
ADAM REALLY SWALLOWED EVE'S BAIT
HOW WAS HE TO KNOW THAT SHE WAS JUST TROLLING
PIMPING FOR A SNAKE
NOW HE'S GOT HER DEEP INSIDE AND HE CAN'T GET AWAY
SHE REELS HIM AND WATCHES HIM PLAY
THE BETTER THEY LOOK, THE DEEPER THE HOOK
MEN WILL NEVER EVER GET AWAY
HAS IT BEEN THAT WAY FOREVER
BY A GOD THAT IS SO CLEVER
IN A GARDEN'S PERFECT WEATHER
IT'S A LOVELY ENDEAVOR
I DON'T MIND IF I DON'T GET AWAY
BUT I'D LIKE TO KNOW TO WHOM I PRAY
Reflection - The Fragrance of Grace
Mail order catalogs seem to have the ability to procreate in my mailbox. Just when I think I have rendered them infertile they give birth to multiple sets of quintuplets right under my nose as if by magic fertilization! And, of course, I have to examine these newborn opportunities to raid my bank account just to make sure I haven’t missed some article of clothing or thing I can’t possibly live without for the survival of sanity and my eternal happiness. They are like new spring leaves!
spring sprouts in new leaves
boughs sport jackets of light green ~
chartreuse convention
A new arrival from a New England country store pictured a garden of stately purple iris that immediately grabbed my hand and took me on a ride back into my grandmother’s iris garden with delicate, yet eloquent, perfume wafting from silky petaled garden royalty.
Each page was an adventurous journey through my childhood reminiscing about miracle wrinkle erasing creams, magic bunion healers and kitchen gadgets long declared useless by technology. But, one page made me stop, drop and drool - perfumes. No nascent scents but old friends looking at me from glossy pages bringing to mind the women who gave my life definition – the Royal Secret of my grandmother; Bellodgia and Gardenia of my favorite aunts; Tigress of my tigress mother and Blue Grass, a Kentucky meadow perfume of my teens.
These remarkable women straddled fleeing decades, crushing depressions, cataclysmic world wars often suffering the unthinkable loss of infants, children, husbands, siblings and miscarriages. Yet, through their signature scents, they taught me about thanksgiving in tragedy, faith in grieving and the irrepressible iron will to live in the fragrance of grace.
harlequin bouquets
fragrance of flower’s essence ~
sunlight washed gardens
4-21-21
Contest: Moments of Reflections
Sponsor: Malabika Ray Choudhury
My purpose in life... to live it
and breathe each breath as my last
to hold no argument for the sake of holding
give understanding to those who need it
to be open to all thoughts...no matter how different
to keep as much beauty in the world as I can
to explore all realms of possibilities
and see the souls of others as they are
to not be blinded by the colored coat of deception
to be a truth-teller in a world of liars
who have no sense of honor or character of the spirit
and dwell in the garbage flowing down rivers of fear
spending years collecting from life...not experiencing life
to know the difference between the two
Yes...I have one purpose...
to live life without hesitation or fear
to procreate and pass purpose along
so nothing is missed in each singular journey
where the blood of my blood understands
life is to be lived...not bartered
to find purpose is a cause, unto itself
and cannot be asleep...
to think dreams and wishes are enough
to know that purpose is a strange thing
that evolves or dies as the world changes
would that I find a purpose
from the bravery of the oppressed...who never cry
would that I find a purpose
beyond my ability to correct injustice
would that I live...for I have only one life
to live without chosen conflicts of men
cluttering my thoughts for no purpose
other than self-gratification
then claim my intentions were noble
what is my purpose...you ask
to be...
nothing more or less than the perception of my days
as my eyes see them
to rest with the weary in deep realms of shade
and shine a light on the darkness of the lost
sharing with them the knowledge obtained
from a life lived
my purpose is to say with my last breath
I lived life... embraced its struggles
and have done so without lament
6/4/18 contest My purpose in life
A dear friend asked me the other day
"Which is the city you call your own?"
I wanted to give a precise answer
But couldn't find out which one
Is it the city where I was born
That still echoes my murmurs
In the whispers of rosy mornings
And spreads my fragrance with the wind
Or is it the city where I went to school
That still preserves my frayed memories
Of broken pencils and faded pages
And the benches where I played along
Is it the city where I had lost myself
That still glorifies my mistakes explored
In all those struggles that it has kept
Hidden between dried petals of my diaries
Or is it the city where I found glory
That still reminds me of beautiful days
Shared smiles with my parents
And moved forward to find my road
Perhaps it is the city where I hadn't lived
It still carries my experiences with strangers
Of a weekend spent to find myself
In the history of a city that wasn't mine
I don't know which one it is
For I belong to every city I have visited
Left a part of me there to blend in the air
Picked another part and dissolved it in me
With the molecules and moments
That create themselves for me
I look back to every frame that was me
And let it unfurl a history of mine
I am not sure if there exists a city
That we humans can call our own
Or why else would we feel we belong there
When we procreate our lives in those cities
May 17, 2020
BRIAN'S CHOICE H,any form,any theme
Winner: Honorable Mention
What is a promise
in proximity to life prime,
can a vow vanquish the purity
of love Present,
how will the Future figure fire
stronger than inspiration now,
shall the Past procreate original heat
from the ghost of a kiss,
to be alive with you here,
is to be forever with you...
Tears of onyx drip,
slip and splash
onto ivory fine hush,
a heart speaks with skips...
You sing your asking
like a song questing,
washing away the wastings
of What's and Why's
with a winter's water
of clear wise waking,
so you give Life what It needs most,
your absolute abandon
of apprehensive submission,
you are no longer timid
in the thunder of truth,
you are now the reason
for the Question's sweat,
and you are also the sanguine mercy
of the Answer as to why
we must first be lost
before we can lead,
for faith is only real
in the unknown...
There is a quest in every question
that comes from the heart,
which delivers us to an edge of soul
where love and truth speak to each other
like light dancing through the crimson diamond
of a dream breathing boldly
in our only heartbeat...
Let's run smart
into the checkered smile
of a riddle that has no answer
beyond the love of our treasured play,
we run as sparks
into the midnight of pure poetry...
Love once told the Heart,
I am your bloom into life divine,
Heart replied redly,
and I am the instrument
of your innocence become invincible...
In the penumbra of a noir love
that stalks opportunity from the ache
of an appetite that burns in the dark,
we realize that the speed of light
and the speed of darkness breathe together,
that there is a depth and breadth
to the magic of our poetry's prism
where we play with the spectrum
of heartbeat anthems that celebrate
the chase and touch of destiny...
You were found upon an alter
of soft blue ice,
smooth as breathing alabaster
of young rose hue,
your eyes open to love with no regret,
veins of still, pale violet lightning
in suspense through your undead skin,
Desire alive in you warmly,
rising into wakeful devotion...
J.A.B.
One sex can't survive without the other
Every living thing must mate with another
Women need a loving man so they can procreate
Love is the operative word in this debate
If this did not happen
Which was God's Almighty Plan
Answer this question
Who is equal, WOMAN or MAN
I fail to understand why people are still debating
Who is equal to who, I find this humiliating
People are all people whatever sex they are
All this kerfuffle is taking things too far
I don't need to be equal, equal to whom
We come into this world from our mother's womb
We are part of God's Eternal Plan
Equal in every way WOMAN or MAN
20.1.2020 Shirley Hawkins
Poetry Soup Contest
Kia Michael Neumann
An instant touch
Can bring life
Fertilize an egg
Procreate and excel
Expand on an idea
Stand on business
Grow your company
Instant entrepreneurial touch
An instant touch
Can bring death
Shot of a gun
Driving drunk
An instant touch can heal
Like the woman in the bible
Who had an issue of blood
Touched His hem was made whole
My instant cup of coffee or tea
May not seem so great to me
But the person without a cup
May see me as blessed filled up
Life is filled with so many instances
Be open to the significant possibilities
Bamboo Tree
26 February 2012
Evergreen tree-like green herbage
Abounding woody stems travelling upwards
In a flick, moments-of-memory refuse to cede
At the sound of rustling leaves, pay off a reverie
Pliant in face of neither storms nor monsoons
It just sways and bends but never lose its elegance
Misty outside and leafing out to commune
Submissive to nature’s onrush by its restless dance
As the wind blows in every direction
Unmindful are we to disregard nature’s course
God’s invitation to see and listen into its perfection
On how each sight and sound heal one’s scarce
Bamboo nodes strengthen its stem
Each step is a faint for its humble growth
Interaction – a never dying language for ecosystem
Find comfort to its shadows as a token of troth
Not built for eternity but new shoots will replace
To repeat its vow to shed green leaves to procreate
An inseparable companion to give refuge and embrace
For all passing guests finding a way to relate
Noel N. Villarosa
Strands of satiny pineapple fibers
From the superbly prickly pieces of leaves
Refined by the nifty naked hands
Of the great sophisticated artisans
Beyond this unequaled plant
Is a peculiar product exist
Only native Filipinos - Tagalogs can procreate
An art of aesthetic craftsmen
The fabric of my historical breed
Versatile apparel suits for formal affairs - weddings
From 20 meters of silk processed and produced - four months
Nation known as PEARL OF THE ORIENT
Exaltedly introduces this "BARONG TAGALOG"
Through cordial hardworks and artistic thinkings
A lifetime masterpiece dominates the Philippine Art
A cloth woven by faith and ornamented by passion
A cloth designed by heart and given birth through life
A cloth perfected by artistry and embroidered by fidelity
For native Batanguenos, this is their breath
Respiring together as they brocade their future
Future that depends on THE PHILIPPINE NATIONAL CLOTH - BARONG TAGALOG.
*BATANGUENOS - people of Batangas,Philippines
*BARONG TAGALOG - Philippine National Cloth
------------Jun-jun Villanueva
----ANYTHING HANDMADE CONTEST by nette onclaud