Best Unplanted Poems
I want to howl, run and flee,
not to watch what I don't see.
I want to rise, run and flee
not have to watch what's in the sea.
Tonight, I am like a seed unplanted,
blown by the wind.
I pray not to remember
that day in December,
when the grass was green
and I fell in love with you.
I wish to forget when my life
felt so soothing with you,
when we met under the sparkling moon,
that unique night in December.
I crave to forget how your eyes
used to close, whenever you kissed me,
forget the way your heart beat,
whenever you whispered in my ear,
how much you loved me.
Forget how you used to rest
your head on my shoulder,
tell me words I wanted to hear,
forget it was only you
who could make me sigh.
Help me forget. It was only you
who could illuminate
my darkness,
it was you who could thrill
my heart with love.
I have to forget. It was only you,
who could sway me to understand
how to grant my reverie
become real.
Let me forget how each night at twilight
we would pray for the evening,
to be just the two of us,
dream of the days send
just to be together.
Forget how our sweet souls
would reach the sky, touch each other
until we could no more endure,
but make love.
Help me forget how my dreams
started to develop a sweet sensation,
than previous ones, after I laid eyes on you,
that day in December.
Forget how dancing with you
was almost charged with electricity
whenever we touched.
Let me forget, how you appeared
that day in December like an illusion,
when the light went on.
Suddenly, my life was shining,
nothing was normal when I knew
you were the one and only,
forty five years ago.
Tonight, we became separated shadows.
Tomorrow, will become hollow circumstances.
You left me sinking in my tears.
Therese Bacha
March 15 2014
how old are they now
those that fell by the wayside, one foot in the unknown
the others that disappeared to the other side of the moon
why were they lost, spilling into the wind
tossed upwards, cast aside, like an unrequited memory
giving way like broken clouds
silently dispersing into the vast, midnight sky
how did we let them go…
turn our backs on an exodus we don't quite recall
while they took their leave without a sound, ...not an echo, nor a cry
fragments may reappear
weary and worn, without a name
disguised by the ashes that hide the flame
how often do we believe we might see them ignite
rising up from the alter of youth
like a sunrise from the afterlife
but grasses grew unplanted
sprouting out of nowhere
to fill the vacant spaces
we didn't know were there
____________________________________________________
8/31/21
contest Vagabond Dreams
sponsor Craig Cornish
We have come this far,
In this forever, here we are,
a speck of sand, a blink
vulnerable as we think
we are not a never,
nor are we a forever.
Time will claim the choice,
silence the loudest voice,
All the whispers ever heard
will go mute in deathly word.
Vision seeds go unplanted,
timbers fall warped and slanted.
Moments shiver and sieze
with the dying of the breeze.
We find our home inside
the womb of the natures bride
waiting to be reborn
left behind lovers mourn.
Finality is a fragile thought
some fear, some sought,
and it is my turn for goodbye.
Time comes and we all die.
For contest: my muse, mortal
Date: 6/21/18
Your Heart Is Where Your Treasure Is!
I thought that I could make it on my own.
Till that day when I lost my job and home.
There were things in life I took for granted.
Till that one day, when all was “unplanted.”
There were many things that I had enjoyed.
Till that one day, when it was all destroyed.
I cried and wept as I see it all disappear.
But something that I discovered became clear.
No matter how many times I sought pleasure.
Where my heart is, there is also my treasure.
The treasures I thought would bring fulfillment.
Never did they bring true joy and contentment!
I began to pray like I had never done before…
God was what I needed... I needed HIM more!
The love of God spoke to me, as I knelt down...
And soon, I felt HIS presence all around!
I lost everything in life, that I thought I needed!
But, through Jesus, my life is now completed!
Jesus brought a heavenly treasure that I never knew
He filled my emptiness, and made me “brand new!”
He came to where I was! I was empty within...
And gave me the victory to live life AGAIN!
The treasure in Christ brought healing to my mind!
I love him so much! He’s so gentle and kind!
The treasure in Christ, is a wonderful delight.
This eternal treasure… Can be yours TONIGHT!
By Jim Pemberton 04/21/14 Read Luke
For three score years and little more you lived
Did you at once think of yourself?
Did you at once rest?
When the heartless sun bitterly scotched your back
You never thought of it
You concentrated on planting a tree instead
You only thought of how to overcome the merciless sun rays.
I thought you needed a tree for you to rest under
But when it blossomed
You rested not— you let others enjoy instead.
When they were busy enjoying
You were busy pruning, tilling and watering
Making it more and more enjoyable.
It came a time when we started making our own gardens
I thought it was a time for you to rest
But no!
You unplanted flowers from your beautiful garden
Giving us to make our own
I never saw you rest
Never at once saw you enjoy the fruits of your sweat.
You just thought of others
Sacrificed your happiness to make others happy.
Did anyone ever think of you?
Did someone ever think of your agony?
At least at once!
Was there a minute
When you cared for yourself?
Was there a time when you stop thinking of other people’s problems…Just concentrating on your own?
Now I’m at your grave
The stone is written:
“Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord…
They will rest from their labors…”
Perhaps it’s true
You’ve now rested
Only think of yourself.
The lesion was
spreading. From
inside, I hear the wails.
Past and present
of time, plows
the furrows, in future.
Seeds remain
unplanted. I seek
justice from the earth.
Turn off the lights
I want to see-
the moon in its full glory.
Someone has left
the message for us.
Go out to face the wolves.
Satish Verma
One day I had a magical seed. I carried it around in my pocket like a special key. It had the power to change humanity and yet it remained unplanted. The Creator placed it upon my heart to grab a shovel. He instructed me to bury the special seed on a hill where no crows could find it. He instructed me to gingerly care for it and water it each and every day. He was the One who created the seed. I found the most sacred place in my entire town to bury this seed. I sat and watched to see how the wind would blow over this spot too. I knew from past experiences that the elements can be very harsh on a thing so delicate and tiny. I loved this seed and wanted it to succeed.
One day as I gathered at the sacred place I saw a tiny seedling emerge. I raised my hands to the Creator thanking him for his miraculous workings. I said a prayer over the fragile plant emerging and wondered what it would be like several months from now. Oh the potential for its growth!
I came back to view the seedling a few months later and it had grown into a budding sapling. There were the most elegant heart-shaped flowers upon it and the aroma of a true friendship had sprung from the soil in which it was planted. I was enraptured with this tree in wait. I was optimistic how grand it would grow to be!
Years had passed and time was on my side. The tree and I had become the best of friends. I even sat beneath its branches one day and had the grandest nap! I dreamed of miracles and joy and butterflies descending upon its branches. I nurtured it with love and prayers over the years and it was standing before me a miracle from the Creator!
The lessons that I learned from this tree of love were great. I learned that time and patience are truly on our side if we have our hearts in the right place. I also learned that just a little water goes a long way when you consistently take the time to bring your watering can to the seed and stretch out your faith. I also learned that it is good to dream with your friends along the way and hope for the miracles around the bend.
All things are possible with God, a seed, and a watering can!
Gwendolen Rix
11-1-14
Treason Reasons
Concreted cracks, abandoned train tracks,
unaffordable housing built like shacks.
Unplanted seeds gardens of weed,
never having enough to satisfy the greed.
Unseen view, is the sky blue?
Goodwill bought unlaced white shoe.
The frontyard seat on ol' bucket street,
cool air doesn't help that kind of heat.
Battles kill, unordinary run of the mill,
another happy mailman undelivered bill.
Where is our morality? What is our deal?
living here in the now is such a reality kill...
bmdavey@
02/24/16
From the back of a cul-de-sac the world one knows goes round and round
Woodlands to the rear, afore the home unplanted ground
The living scent of ocean and suburban family sounds
Mild days upon the sand, fresh night seafood on the town
Neighbors but in name, more aptly titled ghosts
Each group upon its own deck isolated in its roast
Few times a year a trip into the city for sport or rarest art
Salted pretzels, honeyed nuts, or steaming dogs upon a cart
One day all torn asunder, a household bound in strife
Pictures last not till forever, at least not in modern life
A home, a family, one small tale carried on to future years
To leave it all behind, a day of hopefulness and tears
Once I was an unplanted rose
Waiting to be watered
So I would grow into a life of beauty
Now I am
A wilted flower
Falling head first
Into the ground
on turning fifty
on turning fifty
today i looked in the rear view mirror
look back into the past
and see a speeding car go by
a decrepit car at that
unwashed, unkempt
with the driver having his nose in the air
the parallels to my life
more so with that car and driver epitomizing year fifty
... for my body and mind fringes on decrepitness, too
i reminiscence even more ...
at all the cars speeding by
all a blur
like the years of my life going by
in rapid succession
like i am ... how you say ... on a perfunctory march
i am, as we all are
my march, though, less happier than yours
fifty was a few years ago
and my nose stretches a little
how cute ... at least something still stretches
in my peripheral
the end of the freeway is near
how can it not be?
the aches and pains keep adding up
but what's eating me
are not the years going by
or the aches and pains
... it's having regrets
yes, regrets ...
it's taking the wrong fork in the road
earlier in life
and not having a foundation now
or having anything to show
it's watching everyone else tending to their
beautiful harvest ... as they turn fifty
their crops yielding and bountiful and rosy
i say bravo to them with all sincerity
yet how can this be ... my head shaking
and my harvest just a tumbleweed wreath of unplanted seeds,
unfulfilled dreams
... i hear a faint voice now of i told you so
yes mom you were so right
...what was that mom angels angels zap him,
zap him don't let him submit that...
huh? I can't hear you.
connie pachecho
4/13/17
Virtues are more than they appear to be.
Ripples of connectivity.
Something switched on with the light?
A companion, manual, override.
Especially when storm clouds rear- appear to ruin the blue skies'-
But not like a knife,
that cuts the whole in holes,
of possibility.
Like procedural shears.
Is it Godless or Goddess ambrosia?
A poultice tea for the sick?
A placebo innoculation against lack of faith?
Selfishness in self paranoia,
Just for your sake.
A dark principality and clever mind-
Vampirism-Medicating prophylactively against
the stake, like an aneurism.
Those pesky ghosts of darkness.
In the blood.
Possess your sconces, flame, dead.
After it burns your wick at both ends.
Seek to destroy, the lightbringing.
Your senses dampened,
fuse blown
guard down.
Darkness.
On the Rampage.
Rampant.
Their Entrance.
Gained instead.
your abode,
not yet
accepting the gift of Life ?
lone
you abide,
Crashing the rifts,
Is this right?
Do YOU still not believe?
YOU are a (A still born-unborn,)
that be's -
the one that grieves?
A loss.
Of integrity?
Keeps an eye on the prize.
Under the storm of seize.
The Gate Keeper with beauty under wing.
Keep an eye for.
The Ace up the sleeve.
--------
No strings attached, divorce yourself from responsibility, integrity.
Lies.
Faithful predictability?
No connectivity. No breath or girth
No cosmic sister. No brother.
Accident of birth, No love or family or anything home team.
Insignificant things or other?
Life, just random, little, quirks?
The illusion filament.
An antibody to judgment,
Ultimately, to be or not to be
sedated
by needs?
Deflated by deeds
Unplanted seed.
A Dawn to share.
Unborn fruit to bare.
No fear.
He IS near.
Integrity is there,
a silver lining that adds true colors hue
against the black and white.
The false and the true.
Out of the blue.
Something that makes Avalon appear in the misty near.
Clearly.
A magic against the shade of Night.
A cloak and warmth to pull tight.
Peace of mind.
I say piece of soul.
That is never changing.
Someone to be connected to is
happiness, an insurance policy against a reason to be.
The water sprinkler ran all night
Water droplets cling to leaves
Round clear circles mirror surroundings
Or sparkle sunlight under the eaves
A beautiful spring morn
Cool, crisp air that sits calm
Awaiting the sun's warming rays
Maybe will see only sunny balm
New planted window boxes wait on more plants
To fill the vacant space
What will the gardener put beside
To live and thrive in this case
Cindy lies in an unplanted box
She loves this sunny rail
Should the gardener plant in there
Or leave it to her avail
Cindy the cat!
A spot
On the urban blight
Where once stood
A faded five
Story hovel
For the poorest of
the poor
Fallen in
final decay
Victim of time
Neglect, hopeless
poverty
Political impotence
No flowers,
No ripe tomatoes
Not even marajuana
Just the weeds
Of poverty
Smashed, broken
glass of dreams
Dead in their infancy
When reality set in
No cucumbers, no lilies,
A few times
An unplanted corpse
Of this weeks murder
An unholy offering
To the Devil,
Janitor, custodian,
And owner of
this concentrated
bastion of hell
No meadow views,
No gardens of wonder,
No horses running free
No freshly painted red barns
No fluffy clouds
No visions of wonder
No hope on the horizon
No chance to escape
Doomed to poverty
Doomed to crime
Doomed to a life
Wandering without point
Sure, there are
Places of wonder
Places of beauty.
But not here.
Not anywhere near here
And these people
Have no hope
Of laying on
a grassy meadow.
There is no Glen
of wonder here
There are no castles
on the East River.
This is the realm of despair.
Where drug laced
Zombies walk the streets
Infected hookers
guard their turf.
Where no hope
does dwell
in what is
Naught but hell.
As i walk through this land
of broken dreams
I have a vision of so many
things
Feeling the pain of life blows
Helps to compound all my
woes
Happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and
confusion
All my life i have known fear
And the joy of happiness is
something kind of rare
Rules of hate rules the
world around
But for me they kind of
tumble abound
Everyday heart ache grows
much stronger
Pain now last much longer
Each day i labour in pain
Hoping for some few grains
to sustain
But deep inside of me
A dead end is what i can see
I walk in shadows searching
for light
But darkness is never out of
my sight
I've been praying for
someone who cares
For everywhere is being
surrounded by so many
fears
And there i stood with no
aim
Waiting for a relief that
never came
For so long i have been in a
pond of misery
For which i can't help '
CHEW THE SCENERY '
I search though i don't
succeed
Somehow am kind of stuck
like an unplanted seed
I just keep moving with no
direction
And keep believing for a
better destination
All things lost and no place
for a new beginning
All that's left is unhappy
ending
All hope seem to be lost
Even before the finish line
have been crossed
Tears of frustration running
down my cheek
Salvation i long restoration i
see seek
What becomes of a broken
hearted
One who it love is now
departed
I know i got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
All i need is some kind of
resolution that tend
To bring this broken dream
to an end.