Best Vegetative Poems
Just one more time
to lay next to you
to feel your love
and know it's true
Arms encircling
the one I so love
To kiss your lips
Like paradise above
To be alive once more
And not in this vegetative state
To feel one last passion
With the one I so adore
But like a wasted stamp
On a letter long unsent
Within words I hoped would show
My love is truely eternal
There is no way I'd go
But somehow,
Like a misdirected letter
Our plans, they ran aground
My dreams so deep, so shattered
To miss the one I'd found
So, in a coma
of numbed pain
I live
and often wonder why
I see now only darkness
Where others see blue sky
I look at your old pictures
Read old letters that you sent
My heart does start to ache
To where and why you went
Where you are, I often wonder
And cry myself to sleep
I only hope you realize
Just how my love was deep
I hope that you are happy
Fulfilled, with all you crave
I'll carry this heavy love
Into my final grave.
My mouth’s in a cage, locked up and alone,
Sewn shut with no one to speak to.
My eyes have seen pain of mental torment,
A broken mirror that sees straight through you.
My ears are blocked to the screams and the cries,
A sand grain alone on the beach.
My skin’s now contorted to a dead cold bronze nothing,
Not tanned in a figure of speech.
My nose has been shattered to smells of a rose,
To the smells of happy and free.
My bones have been snapped, two pencils from one,
My body is now wasting debris.
My “me” has been broken, discarded and burnt,
Once strong, now brittle and frail.
My life is now cursed in this vegetative state,
On a bed my mind’s locked in a jail.
I had my 65th birthday on Monday.
Here are some things that were clarified for me by friends.
I hope it is a sign from God that I can still learn!
False, "erectile dysfunction" isn't a labor dispute at the
new high rise they are building downtown.
False, a "persistent vegetative state" doesn't send
representatives to the U.S. Congress and the Senate, it
does however describe the U.S. Congress.
False, Dr. Neil Clark Warren doesn't have the answer to
everyone's dating dilemma. He had a wonderful
transvestite, necrophiliac, faith-healer lined up for
me, but I got cold feet...................Imagine.
True, the only media entity getting lower ratings
than me and my poetry on PoetrySoup, is MSNBC.
False, Chevy Chase isn't one of the tracks they visit
on NASCAR's Sprint Cup Series.
False, we don't subscribe to the theory that premarital sex
will make you go blind. At my age, it is called "Pre-
Interment-Sex" and I wear bifocals already, anyway.
True, I was really feeling a little low about turning 65
and all, but then I saw Hillary Rodham Clinton on the
tube. Now, I feel like the King of the World!
True, there will never be a clear winner in the battle of the sexes.
True, if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed
this morning, you still "woke up." Be happy!
True, I will never write any of this opinionated drivel
on PoetrySoup again for fear I get banned. If you
believe that................
Happy April Fools Day Soupers, don't take ya-self too serious
The grasses are green...
and sky is so blue...
true spring can be seen...
in oh! what a view!
The beautiful flowers...
of colors enthrall...
share springtime showers..
from heavens fall..
The trees bear foliage...
the songbirds appear...
singing such knowledge...
of springtime cheer!
The bees come alive...
as flowers hold their heed...
then back to the hive...
with harvested need...
Good weather for days...
of sunshine perchance...
Unless raininess plays..
in vegetative advance...
Such flourishing nature..
lends spring fully cast...
thus nurtures such stature...
for summer at last.
I am a party animal, my heritage is mixed
quite content to lounge about when conditions remain fixed.
Suppose that’s the nobility which Krypton must provide,
maintaining stiff upper lip when I’m all buzzed inside.
Then too, I’m mostly nitrogen, which is very stable,
tamping volatility of oxygen: it’s able
to combine with hydrogen (that’s also in my make up).
Uncontrolled? Oh that would lead to an explosive break up.
Carbon Dioxide? Its percentage varies night and day:
vegetative respiration, or so the boffins say.
I wonder why I don’t glow multicoloured in a storm:
my neon, argon, radon being Vegas lighting norm.
If I had more Helium the humans would sound squeaky.
I imagine the attraction of that chap Enrique
Would suffer greatly from affliction. He’d become mundane,
and prove downright offensive if I gave him more methane.
I’ve also Nitrogen Oxide, not Nitrous NO2,
and a soupçon of ozone which had once protected you
from harmful rays from Out There much more than now is measured.
It seems that humans cannot see what really should be treasured.
I’m moved by friction of the Earth and pressure off the bat
while Coriolis effect pushes me this way and that:
north and south of the equator, the opposite I spin.
Any other speculations, my friends, are simply wind.
Petunia
Germinate the seed for ten weeks inside
Petunia grows in the ground with minerals
Pink petals and a stem
I say it is not a flower
It is Gregory
Petunia came from South America
A different culture cultivating plants
I don’t speak their language; Spanish, Portuguese
So Gregory it is
My Master’s degree is in botany
I have a PHD in flower
There is no petunia in religion or philosophy
None in the world according to me
According to my political affiliation and relations
There is Gregory
I water it and give it sun and take it for a walk
It continues with pink petals and a stem
One day it will grow into a fine young man
A president
Exactly as I planned
It will not just run a country
But a vegetative state
Exactly as I said
A whinstone varigated thoughtless vegetative scrumptious.
A thanksgiving theology scrupulous splutter simultaneous.
A wistful zephyr as a wizened face vehemently wiseacre,
A filibuster recommends fiddlesticks to extradite fabulous.
An extraordinary amusable, desirable or sustainable flush.
Comatose To Life
Somewhere on a small island called Penang, historically known as the Pearl Of The Orient…
There is a heartwarming tale of how tender loving care revived a comatose patient…
The patient is a fully qualified Florence Nightingale about to launch her nursing career ..
Full of hopes and dreams, excited about achieving her goals in her chosen career…
But the cruelties of real life was fatefully unloaded on her one unlucky day…
A twisted sense of fate saw a motorcycle accident that cruelly left her for dead..
But her strong will to survive and fight was something no doctors could have forseen…
She being in a vegetative state, those experts think they know enough to proclaim…
There’s no hope of full recovery, poor girl, and it is best to pull the plug on her…
Given her extensive injuries, her vegetative state, it’s best not to prolong her misery..
Her ever loving aunt, her only mother she had known, was resolute in her decision…
Come what may, her favorite niece will have her undivided love, care and attention ….
No one knows the depths of agony and the despair this loving aunt quietly suffered…
The loneliness and the infinite patience, only a mother maternal could have done better…
Through 2 long years of unending love and tenderness, against all negative perceptions..
From the expert doctors to the disbelieving relatives, she tirelessly persevered in her actions..
Today her plucky comatose patient is awakened, though she is far from full recovery…
What matters is she is alive, she has made it through, though there’s need for counselling …
This story is just a beginning for Janice Chuah Chai Ming, it’s the start of a long recovery journey..
This poem is just to document the power and the intensity of love and perseverance extraordinary…
For Chuah Bee Hong, the loving aunt who quit her job to devote full time for Janice’s recovery..
Prayers be with you and your loved ones, good deeds like this deserves only good in life’s glory..
http://www.thestar.com.my/News/Nation/2015/11/13/Nurse-makes-strides-after-waking-from-a-coma-Hit-and-run-accident-robs-Janice-of-bright-future/
People think plants are not violent
This is where I will tend to disagree
Have you ever seen a vine strangle a tree?
What about when a fly is devoured by the Venus?
When the weeds clog the yard with such immensity that drains every nearby plant?
Sure you have
Therefore you have witnessed the hard-wired DNA principle
To survive
Regardless of species
The predation and the prey
All within the concept that.....
Celery somehow made it to dominance in a seemingly peaceful fashion
Yet deceptively, as stoic as this ... Celery... seems
It most certainly practices a turgid diplomacy of violence
Showing its importance as
An invaluable part of classic broth
A team player in regards to fiber
And
Let's never forget the partnership with peanut butter
So it began
Celery was allowed into the favored gardens of the chosen vegetables
Walled away from the thorny, thick monstrosities that grew unattended
On the other side of the gate
Shedding their pollen without the slightest of apologies
But none of this was a concern for Celery
As Celery grew strong, robust and prolific
Soon it was apparent Celery had larger dreams than walled-off gardens
It was time for world domination
It was time to run the competitors unto the topsoil
Celery's surrounding mother roots went deep and everywhere within the soil
This unquenchable thirst caused
Many neighboring plants to become so stifled
A massive plant exodus occurred
Creating even more harsh turf conditions
This was compounded with the
Many casualties from plant-like warfare
Yet, one may ask
Did Celery show mercy and a vegetative state upon its face
No (and yes)
The roots took over and drained the essence from every beet, scallion and basil
In proximity
While simultaneously and
Ravenously soaking in every bit of energy needed for
Survival
Even at the cost of Celery's family and friends
So
Given this veracious tale
Do you still believe plants are not violent?
I’m supposed to write something really creative.
Class is tonight and my mind is vegetative.
Oh Lord will I be the only one,
who can’t think of anything crazy and fun?
Thinking, thinking, why won’t my mind go there?
Maybe I’ll write about the smells at the fair.
I got it! I know! How about the pretzels at the mall?
So many ideas but I can’t write about them all.
So instead I sit and stress,
Oh my mind is such a mess!
Popping popcorn at the movie theater, yes that’s it!
Now my stomach is hungry, thinking as I sit.
Oh why, oh why do I smell that cake baking?
I am really not good at decision making.
I know, I’ll just write about something other than food.
But maybe my heart is really not in the mood.
Nope, food, food, food is where it is.
Oh gosh this is harder than a surprise pop quiz.
O.k just let it go , that’s what I’ll do.
But why can’t I stop thinking about that cheese fondue?
SONG OF THE SPIRIT
Ridden on a bed
Barely able to moan
Can't move a finger
Or let out a groan
I sense some footsteps
Inching towards me
Must be the doc bless him
To relieve my agony
Lying on my sore back
For almost an eternity
Each muscle stiff
Crying for relief
Debilitated devastated
Wrapped up in grief
Yet, this spirit
Deep inside me
Just a speck
A tiny fleck
Wilful stubborn
Refuses to succumb
Irrepressible incandescent
Yearns for a joyous outcome
Listen carefully
Hear it cry
'Fear not adversity
Never say die'
Resubmitted for Julie Rodeheavers
Contest: I am a survivor
Date Aug 22 2017
This poem attempts to explore the spirit of the terminally ill patients many of them lying in a vegetative state and for whom passive euthanasia is advocated by a sizeable section of society as the only remedy.
I
Know
Your Name was
Martyred, but I gain
From your defeat/demise;
So I come silently to you.
Help me if You can, but I dare not try to clear your name and be laughed at! I once admired, praised, followed your Steps as a Lone Stalwart, now you are seen as vegetative and stagnant??
I
Me
Budded and
Grew, Planted seeds
Internally to Sprout,
And when Watered, produce
And cause attention to be paid to the Things ones might have thought of but never did! God sees all.
We
Are
Glad that you
Have Planted some seeds,
That may produce beyond merit.
We will wait for God to pave the way, during duress, stress, ambiguity and some chaos.
Life
Is
In Turmoil
All around the globe.
Men take life for granted everywhere;
Not leaving God to take charge and direct everyone's path, during satan's "Evil and Principalities"!
Imposed love of debt
Seeking soulful releases
Empowering self through lies
Abusive ways masked in gifts
While wounds are healed
So eyes no longer see
Internally embedded as deserved
Becoming self inflicted
Thoughts taught to believe
Brought upon self
Undeserved of a better love
He holds the Key
Of a torture-some beat
Held in his hands
Squeezed of blood flow
Restricting all vessels
In a vegetative state
Oxygen gone
My muse is on fire, she burns at the stake
guilty of poetasting, and glaring mistakes
Inferior rhymes with old Monoku outtakes
blaze all around her, as embers are raked
Badly blistered syllables, spark and flake
Whilst lacklustre stories, continually bake
A bard fans the flames, but he too’s a fake
for mincing his own words, with juicy steak
Making ado about nothing, soliloquy spake
Glory to the Efilist god, ha! give me a break
A dedication of respect
for rendering down a bard
# # #
However unpalatable
and repugnant the suet tastes
# # #
From March madness to April fool’s
digesting copious amounts of insipid tofu
# # #
Only to wipe it off
in an all encompassing
persistent vegetative state
By
David Kavanagh IV
My darling daughter know I love you so,
And though I know I say it less than should,
(Though don’t I know it’s true of how you glow)
You brighten life more than your daddy could;
Think of the mountaintops near where you live,
That roll enchantment through a desert state,
Where sand should be instead’s vegetative -
Just like the light you shine when time is late;
Because although I know you know I lack,
And please believe I know you owe me zip,
When awful lies were said behind my back,
You stood for truth and helped me keep a grip;
So to my Lily Belle that heaven sent –
I hope you know how much your picture meant.