Best Vegetated Poems


Premium Member Don'T Quit Your Dream- POTD

Night stirred memories, once forgotten of the days 
I burnt in love when you consumed my days,
and I carried you like a queen in the palanquin of my thoughts!

without forethought, to elbow out the marauding of memories,
I set out, travelling miles, my heart throbbing in my chest
my legs shaking and trembling, finally reaching your hermitage

casting away my stilted pride, expectant and anxious,
I waited at your doorstep to seize the moment
to renew a commitment and knocked hopefully at your door.

while listening intent for the approaching footsteps
and the sound of the key turning on the latch
did I see a face peering through the window, and quickly withdraw?
was it the face I longed to see?

time skipped quickly by, hours flitted 
between limping dawns and staggering nights

how long had I waited there? Was it weeks, months, or years?

I knew roots had grown under my feet
and my body had vegetated into a tree

in Time’s eternal motion, the tree will remain there
as a trunk of fossilized dream till your love charges life into it!

Nov.24. 2022

~ Placed Second~

POEM OF THE DAY

Don’t Quit Your Daydream Poetry Contest
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Dec.8.2022

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Premium Member A Wait Infinite- POTD

Night stirred memories, once forgotten,
           of the days I burnt in love
    when you consumed my days and I carried you like a queen,	
                   in the palanquin of my thoughts.

      Without forethought, to elbow out 
     the marauding of thorny memories,
  I set out, travelling miles, my heart throbbing in my chest,
            my nimble legs shaking and trembling 
       and finally reaching your hermitage.

  Casting away my stilted pride, expectant and anxious,
            I waited at your doorstep to seize the moment
  to renew a commitment and knocked hopefully at your door,
                     so far never opened before anyone.

     While listening intent for the approaching foot steps
   and the sound of the key turning on the latch,
         did I see a face peering through the window,
                              and quickly withdraw?
      Was it the face I longed to see?
          Might not be or else, I would have been admitted in!

   Time skipped quickly by, hours flitted
       between limping dawns and staggering nights

       Initially I knew the tedium of waiting
     and the crushing weight of Time on me. 
         Soon I lost count of it…. 

     Like an alien, how long had I waited there?
          Was it weeks, months or years?

   The wait must have been pretty long.
    I knew roots had grown under my feet
       and my body had vegetated into a tree,
            but without leaves and fruits!

           In Time’s eternal motion, the tree will remain there
    as a trunk of fossilized hope, till your love charges life into it!

Premium Member Cancer Was the Match

Cancer Was the Match, 
That Set My Fields on Fire
Written: by Tom Wright
12/2/2014 

The path in life that I formerly pursued,
Whether aptly marked or vegetated trail;
Found most days all too frequently skewed,
So I sought God’s face to help me prevail.

For the thing staring at me I had no answer,
Neither peace nor joy was within my heart.
I’d been diagnosed with Parotid Gland Cancer,
And the new direction chosen, had its start.

No longer was life seen on hold, but on restart,
I’d surrendered to Jesus, authority in my life.
God began cultivating in me His work of art,
He began by guiding a Doctor’s surgical knife.

Now I no longer travel some unlighted path,
But the one which God the Father approved. 
With time mostly passed I’ll escape his wrath,
Lest from the Book of Life, my name’s, removed;
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.


Gratitude For Recent Food

Indeed Columbus knew
Our planet isn’t flat
When in 1492
He found the missing half!
And beheld the land’s corn
And potatoes — unearthed
And green beans galore
That vegetated forth.
Wherein squashes of size
And tomatoes emerged
While the peppers surprise
Gave cuisine a surge.
At the same time, debuted,
Avocados, divine,
Sweet-potato root
And the pineapple find.
Moreover — vanilla,
And the strawberry gem
Plus chocolate, the thriller
— From the Americas, stem.
Plus peanuts in pods
Pecans and cashews . . .
     Thus, let us thank G-d
     For great recent foods!

Last Dance

The last time I saw you alive you hugged me tight and said my name as we danced. We only moved a few steps but it felt like the music played until the DJ said last call.  Little did I know you were teaching me the new step, the step of letting go.
Never had I felt the expression of dance embodying my nerves with love from head to toe.
I watched over you as you tossed and turned to find comfort with your discomfort... With your pain!
I wished I could have shouldered your pain, I wish I could have bottled lighting so you can once again feel the purity of rain.
What is a spot light that doesn't dim?
An ANGEL!
A angel whom memories run through me like a white wall receiving invitation from a projector and its film.
My thoughts are lost within its thoughts leaving me vegetated.
I ain't much for letting go! As much as I love your new position I hate it.
I need your voice, I need to feel your warmth, I need to see your eyes piercing me, I need it.... I need it!
Slowly moving left to right as I lead you backwards I felt your breath sigh.
I swallowed that breath being breathed; I got you I got you!
The world lost focus as God placed our moment in HD.
I'm dancing my last dance for the memory of you and me.

Life Journey In a Train

Start
Life is like a journey by train
It goes on unhindered by heat or rain
It halts at stations on the way
New people enter, others stay
Some reach their destination and alight
Others continue as a matter of right 

Sometimes  loved ones get separated by fate
Leaving us alone to travel, or wait
Hoping to seek them out again
And resume the journey in the same train 
As the train moves, the landscape changes
In the distant can be seen mountain ranges

Barren fields change to a vegetated green
Forests and rivulets add to the scene
It crosses a bridge with a thunderous sound
People view the mighty river below astound
Inside the train new friends are made
Inhibitions on caste, creed, religion fade

All travel as a family together
Like birds of the same feather
This journey has a history
Which always remains a mystery
The last stop is not known
Or, when the adjacent traveler has flown

There are accidents on the way, or delays
And surprises that are joyful in many ways
It’s a sad moment when the journey ends
We depart from our dearest friends
Hoping to meet again at some point of time
In a surreal world doing a pantomime.

End


Kanya Kumari.

Strips of pale silken scarf
On the soft crimson light
Spreading from land to sea
After the blackness of night
Amid sighing moonstone of seeded saturn
A crow is crowing to break up the pattern.

Kanya Kumari high monarch’s maid
High colour in her cheeks of sunset
And a foamed white set in her face;
Her father departed for the Kailash parbat
To find the fair maiden a suitable match
And found Shiva there meditating
Which the heavens chose as her consort.

The gods became nervously worried
That in case the pretty maiden married
Who will kill Raku the demon?
With his jostling gestures at large
Sowing the dreaded terrors in all
Because the maiden full of beechen blooms
Could cast a spell of beauty over demon alone
And kill him without any weapons thrown.

The marriage was then fixed
For some hour of the midnight
And Shiva waited in his dark cavern
For the auspicious time to arrive.

But gods took shape of a cockerel
Which darted and crowed at midnight
With calls awash Shiva became agitated
And cursed himself for being overslept, vegetated
As the morning has come, he has betrayed the maiden
Sorrowful he left forever, under the clouds gloom laden.

Kanya Kumari waited for her consort
But alas the hour of midnight gone
In her despair she plucked some flowers
And threw it into the sea over the bowers.

Though the horizons are red
After the bloods of the midnight
The maiden still waits there, forever
Keeping vigils over every path in sight.

Kanya Kumari is the goddess of hope
Of drenched patterns, of agitated lore
In elevated hope that ever suspires
She waits forever amid despairs and mires
But glooms are hindered by her bright desires.

Premium Member Vegetable Garden Haiku-

 my little garden
planted seeds of vegetables 
blessing them to grow

Planning them richly
The seeds that I gleaned blossoms
Flourishing  parting

Sprouting green colors
Leafy green vegetables
planted I water

life beams sprouting Earth
Standing tall blossoming forth
vegetated girt

so seeded planted
The seeds that I gleaned blossoms
vegetable garden

6/28/23
written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023

Vegetated Indecision

Am I staying or leaving?
I don’t know
Am I coming or going,
which way do I go?
So many decisions
bombarding me every which way
Will I leave tomorrow,
or should I’d left yesterday?
	I’m caught in a conundrum,
	seeing Stevie Wonder inner vision
		Facing a catatonic meltdown,
		in a state of vegetated indecision
Am I a man or am I a mouse,
should I go outside 
or should I stay in the house?
Should I go knock on the door,
or call on the phone?
Gotta make decisions everyday — 
but I don't know which one might be wrong
I’m stuck in a dilemma, at the crossroads
Got no map to show me which way to go
Perhaps the flip of a coin will let me know ... 
maybe not, maybe so
	Facing an existential crisis 
		of life changing dimensions,
	got a batch full of vegetated indecisions
Does she like me,
do I like her?
Is this the right fit, I'm not sure
Do I stand up for myself,
or do I always bend?
Am I getting too fat,
am I getting too thin?
Will it be waffles and chicken,
	or eggs and steak
There are so many dietary decisions to make
Do I stay heart smart or go fast food,
be strictly vegan or do buffet menu? 
	I’m trapped on a spinning carousel,
	giving me vertigo blurred vision
		Am I going up or am I going down?
		I’m a Ferris wheel of vegetated indecision
Can’t seem to make up my mind
with any authority
The only thing I do know for sure is,
don’t pull the plug, please!

Dual Inward Curved V


Rainbow lips smiling shaped my joy
I heard birds of paradise singing
as she spoke
When she was asking me
for directions,
my thoughts got lost in translation

Such virgin beauty was foreign to me,
a battle-scarred heart
vegetated marching 
to the skin war of the sexes drumbeat

I drank the poison potion before,
and died emotionally
A tempting pain elixir
that pleasure seeped into the belly — 
It turned my legs to jelly,
had my dinner desires microwaved telly
Got my brain screaming: Whoa, Nellie!

Now I’m wondering,
what in the curved V is wrong with me
This dual repeat
is happening with much stronger
aorta telltale intensity

Inward prisoner of hope
got iron cell released

And I don’t even know her name, yet ...
But a baby ask
is gonna feed my curiosity
High pitch fever   ~   daydream revelry
Helium infatuated new love
has inflated my dual inward curved V

Premium Member The Children

The Children
By: Tom Wright
5/31/03

How oft are the children sacrificed
for an unjust cause or belief.
From hunger, with swollen bellies,
they beg for morsels of relief.

Accounted as hostages to grating words
orated by another in haste.
While clay mores relegate playground
to the status of vegetated waste.

Viewing with fear a chartreuse sky
as munitions are expended.
Leaves scant likelihood of future days
being enhanced or extended.

Groping in darkness, amid tremors,
finds collateral damage from bombs dropped.
From this, the hunger will only abate,
for those lives that will have stopped.


There is no true victor in war,
likewise, let there be no vanquished in peace.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.

Fungi Fear


Prophetic year of the mushroom
Day one message: 
nuclear madness is on the bloom
Usher in the house of bedlam
into a R.S.V.P. underground shelter mansion,
settle into concrete bunker chairs 
for the half-shelf life walking dead
Winter black sky 
illuminates the windowless rooms
See the global guests all dressed
in glowing diplomatic words
of gloom and doom
Dust off the portrait of the spinster twins — 
Two Japanese widows with the sad eyes,
whose marred skin
bears radioactive disfigurement
Bring in the new year,
set the table ...
spread the feast of the fungi fear
Vegetated negotiations are boiling in the U.N. pot,
and a two-headed swine
is cooking in the military laboratory oven
Each having a rotting truce apple in their mouth,
and lying fumes coming from their snouts
United the nations are not
American host with the most nuclear stockpile,
tells the disgruntled guests 
to empty their hidden uranium pantries out
Break the non-negotiable bread,
get the warhead jam and spread the missile dread
Tweet tell the global citizens
to feast on the fungi fear
Taste the tainted undergrowth appetizer ... 
savor the heat of the radioactive mushrooms
Finish with a slice of extinction pie,
frosted with fungi cancerous tears
Suffer the awful heartburn gut-feeling 
that uncivilized mankind’s end is near

Night Scar

NIGHT SCAR

Before thee have I bow
With a loyal heart in thy castle of love

Lower thy shoulder that I may lay behold 
Curve in, thy palm around my waist 

Teach thy subject how to plant emotions 
In a desert where genuine vegetated love was lost

I beseech thee oh my goddess
Queen de mon mot (Queen of my world)

I thirst for thy presence day by day
That I may taste weariness no more

Thou art my reflection 
For mirror-ly have I seen my love in thy pupil

Brightly, brightly as the moon increases
Such is thy love above the sky of mine heart 

When I close my eyes in the nights 
All I hear are silent voices from a far 

Did whispers to my sleepy ear
Anonymous! anonymous!! anonymous!!! Queen 
Thou art my muse.
                                             ©Gideon I Tukuna
                                              HAPPY NEW YEAR
                                              30/12/2021

Premium Member Come Back 2 God

Come Back 2 God
VBS 2003

A Right Seed Sown,
Not Time,
Changes A Child's Boundaries.
By: Tom Wright
6/26/03

How oft is sacrificed the life of a child,
by unreflective boundaries or a belief.
Ensconced daily with stagnant thoughts,
many, absent of God's word for relief.

They're unwitting hostages of grating words,
and boundaries, voiced by others in haste.
Their lives often relegated to playgrounds,
where fertile minds become as vegetated waste.

Until appears that one with genuine concern,
sharing the word through story and game.
Given alternatives, children can change,
by messaging their hearts of Jesus' name.

The fields are white already to harvest*
and laborers few who tend this fruitful sod.
As basketed fruit, gathered unto life eternal,
are yon who choose to "Come Back 2 God"
John 4 - 35  KJV
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.

The Run

THE RUN

There can be no silence
in a dark vegetated jungle
when you run to evade;
unseen trees and brush
mark by sound your route.

The run is but a slow walk
pressing through dense cover;
their run can be no faster
they are just many more.

Each clearing you speed
maybe call for a red flare,
a red star to gauge position,
and maybe a couple more.

Set a target, call a volley,
interrupt Charles’ progress,
give more space to run;
space to cut a quick turn.

Run till they lose your trail,
go to ground and wait,
could be they will pass by;
then run again for daylight.

With luck you get the LZ first
before escape can be closed;
without luck you continue to run
until exhaustion then run no more.

You make your lonely stand
on unknown lonely ground,
the trees your only memorial,
you will vanish into the land,
and there find your eternal rest.
© Jw Nugent  Create an image from this poem.

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