In tastefully lined up pots in a row,
Multi colored balsams in clusters grow.
A visual treat to adoring eyes,
But never a haunt frequented by bees.
Balsams do not need much care, yet may fade,
If not allowed a little shade.
Flimsy they are of delicate stems,
With light green leaves of serrated hems.
Growing in my neatly laid up yard,
They invariably make me glad.
Gleaming in the first rays of summer sun,
By their simple beauty, my heart they have won.
Unlike the charming red, red rose
Hardly any poet, on them, odes compose
They have no scent, yet as a colorful throng,
In my courtyard, proudly they belong
When the flowers wither, pods appear
In time for self- dissemination, prepare
When fully ripe, the pods explode
And seeds fly as birdies from their nest to explore!
Thus, Nature’s ways are so amazing
Even in plants there's an inherent training
For seeds to leave the comfort of their pods
And find their own space fighting all odds!
In neatly lined up pots in a row
Flaming red and purple balsams in clusters grow
A visual treat to adoring eyes
A haunt frequented by the bees
Do not need much care, but may fade
If not allowed a little shade
Flimsy they are of delicate stems
With light green leaves of serrated hems
Planted in my skilfully laid up yard
They invariably make me glad
Gleaming in the first rays of the sun
By their simple beauty, my heart they won
When the flowers wither, pods appear
In time, for self dissemination, they prepare
When fully ripe, the pods explode
And seeds fly as birdies from their nest to explore!
Thus Nature’s ways are so amazing
Even in plants is an inherent training,
For seeds to leave the comfort of their pods
And find their own space fighting all odds!
___________________________________
June.2.2022
~Placed First~
Purple Flower Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Nayda Ivette Negron Flores
Every cordel tells something
I don't count at that time
because i haven't done it yet
I did not learn how to rhyme ...
It was because I look for a theme
may be the moan of the emu
or sing of the nightingale
fish without hook for thew ...
So as it’s not twine
can i write the paper
without fear of making mistakes
without censoring me. yet ....
What I did was sextile
broken into seven feet
I'm not much versed in it
it's not cordel style ..
I'm Full of thirsty
I have heart pain,
I don't wish to cry
but of much distress I can die
as bull of nowhere land
nostalgia for my hinterland ...!
PS
Cordel are leaflets containing popular poems, displayed for sale hanging from ropes or string, which gave rise to the name.
Cordel is also the dissemination of art, popular traditions and local authors and is invaluable in maintaining local identities and regional literary traditions, contributing to the perpetuation of Brazilian folklore.
WHERE IS ROMEO, WHERE IS JULIET
WAS THEIR LOVE, THEIR DEATH; A FORSHADOWING OF ARTS END
THE POSIONOUS ASPS WE NOW FLAUNT, IN LOVES DISSEMINATION
AN ARTISTIC CREATION?
IT'S SONNET TITLE{:}
THE ROAD PAVED, OUR CHILDREN'S HEART'S; PIERCED IN THE OBJECTIFICATION OF SORROW{S}. THEIR EYES, THEIR EARS, THEIR BODIES, THEIR HEART'S. DEVOID OF THE FRALITY; OF LOVE IN LIFE OR ART .............x
baby blue bk
aka: the gentleman pirate
By Paris Thulare
I feel like I've been a quite for a while now
Clearly they have forgotten who i am
Let me step out of these shoes
They Need to hear this one
I maybe a quite shy
But I'm not a playground
They should step messing around
And face me this time around
After this confrontation
You all going to feel the confusion
no more dissemination
No more discussions
I have questions that need some answers
I can't keep whining
While those that are responsible are just watching
You all have to face what you haven't been expecting
You will face reality
I'm done pretending
I'm done Devaluating
Watch me i will be Annihilating
The one so close with effervescence is wavering though persuasiveness of fear is abstinent.
A force of delicate dissemination cannot stand with the overwhelming multitude of grandeur as your spirit of greatness is sewn.
For the wind blows strong with floundering ways yet blissful is the hold never falling down.
You are without restraint as the ever presence of glory and grace guide you along peaceful and free.
I am baffled, stunned, dumbfounded
Completely nonplussed by the persistence
Of the international criminal court
In harassing the popularly elected Kenyan
President and his popularly elected deputy
As rogue entities terrorize Eastern Europe
The Arab World and my beloved Africa
All around us people are being beheaded
Or otherwise massacred on a whim
Innocent people who would, if free,
Choose to live and let live in peace
Rather than engage in perpetual
Callous, wanton and unprovoked
Slaughter of those they despise.
Aljazeera, BBC and CNN daily broadcast
The atrocities committed by the Islamic state
The beheadings are posted on the internet
And broadcast on radio, tv and newspapers
And while the moguls make their millions
In the dissemination of the villainy
The United Nations looks on puzzled
Or perplexed, mystified or even dazed
By the enormity or complexity of it all
Leaving me to wonder whether
This world body is not being manipulated
For the ends of a few powerful members
Who believe their fortunes would flourish
With the weakening of these regions!
If you can hear me, Ban Ki Moon
Hearken, the downtrodden moan!
Baptists and Boy Scouts
So have you heard the latest scoop;
Baptist Church has told each scout troop
Gays aren't good for church anymore
And people about Baptists are really sore.
God said, "We are all equal in eyes of the Lord,"
How can all of the Baptists really afford
And have created such a outrageous scene
By to all gay males being so mean?
Who enters heaven is determined by God,
Love Him and much money don't have to laud
And one thing about Baptists I'm starting to find
Is they seem to be born with a simple mind.
Do you think that in hell Baptists will languish
After they have created all of the anguish;
Didn't we determine that the dissemination
Of discrimination was grounds for incrimination.
Jonathan Thesarious Hilarious Horn, Retired Veteran
jthorn5656@atmc.net
www.poetrysoup.com
Am I not a Son of the Sun?
And as a Scion duty demands dissemination...
My gift to you then lays in the ability to find Balance
by pointing out the fulcrum
It is not enlightenment that I offer up, that is your path to walk...
I offer stillness and deconstruction
I offer peace by dissolution
One does not reallly begin to know self, until there is no self...
Creations I built around your axis,
Skilled with ideational praxis,
Given up like snake-eyed dice,
Sincerely proffered sacrifice.
Tendered freely, fuelled the fire,
Gasoline infused desire,
Whoosh and crump of my damnation
Redeemed by paper masque salvation.
My living blood I would surrender,
Blind crusader, true defender,
Eyes put out by poker vision,
Gouged to death by sweet precision.
Your loosing hounds when all was done,
I tear to shreds, the end begun,
Dragging down, in silence bow,
For all is nothing to you now.
The pain of your dissemination,
Your character assassination,
True but sort of sad somehow,
My all is nothing to you now.