It has been said you are all just bricks in the wall -
confined and coffined in concrete, your moments
magnified in mortar, souls stone-stippled.
But listen: you are as flowers, individuals efflorescing -
shy eyes of violets, fragile forget-me-nots
unforgettable in pews of blues, sunshine celandines
beaming from sunless corners, strident daffodil trumpets
with everything to tell. Some will grow apart -
wayside wanderers, wayward and cast out.
Some forever up against the world-wall.
You unfold as petals, to sing in tongues of the sun,
in golden tonals, corolla contraltos, a floral choral,
soprano sepals, hibiscus hymns to him and her.
Flowering through stone, blossoming through gloom,
though shadow-dusted with dusk's lilac bloom.
Baptised in the dew of the new which forges
a world anew, transformed by the higher light
which highlights your days, gilded pollen-gold.
Days lengthen as rays warm walls, edges and corners
sun-softening, souls becoming sun-stippled.
Listen: these are the petalled messages to you.
beautiful bountiful inflorescence, bougainvillea
your Latin American hot sauce is showing
your hot spicy pinks challenging your zesty oranges
with a tinge of thorns, you are too hot to tango
Seems like he is Bholu from my village,
He used to come every morning to fetch Neera(Palm Toddy) from the Taad(palm) tree,
He would tie ends of his anklets with a little rope.
and we would watch him go up the peak, wield his hatchet to get the extract from the inflorescence of the tree.
Down below, all the adults were ready with their pots,
Its the nature's bounty and morning's first kick with a few pennies to Bholu as tip,
Everyone bragged about the health benefits of Neera,
We little boys had no luck, we just watched Bholu's tree climbing skill.
Looks like Bholu has aged little bit and has grown wise and smart,
Now he carries his laptop along with his hatchet when he goes up the tree,
For years he was exploited, and he remained penny less,
Now he can make some money by looking up the Neera index on Bombay commodity stock exchange.
Now he goes half way up the tree,
scans the price of Neera on the world wide web,
If the price is high, Neera is served outright,
If the price is low, he would rather wait and look at the exciting Bollywood babes.
Bug-free surroundings are most possible,
but not this repulsive, disgusting beast.
The so-called, Corpse Flower, how shockable,
repulsive, disgusting, and to the least
of it said, gives off such a horrid stench,
unbearable, odoriferous--mesh
vibrant acts that the breed needs to entrench
pollinators to the scent of dead flesh.
Twill bloom as the largest inflorescence,
a total flower stems, stalks, bracts, and bloom.
Twill blossom once every seven years. Once
pollination impacts, ensure its doom.
Tis their way to everlasting, The Corpse
Flower blooms heaven in seventh-year warps.
Spring delights with nature’s song
But then summer comes along
With intention to compete
And excel with bouts of heat.
Stifling air by day and night
Dazzling sun ablaze, too bright
Layered roads buckle and melt
Wildfires make their presence felt.
Searing tongues flicker and roll
Woodland burns out of control
Hungry beast won’t be denied
Till at last the flames subside.
Devastation, tears and pain
Cling to hope and autumn rain
To arrive, replace the gloom
With amazing super bloom…
Golden flowers orange, red
Hide the ashes and instead
Inflorescence soothes the heart
With the gift of nature’s art.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A Jueju~Qijue Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
© 16th May 2023
beautiful bountiful inflorescence, bougainvillea
your Latin American hot sauce is showing
your hot spicy pinks challenging your zesty oranges
with a tinge of thorns, you are too hot to tango
Spring is inflorescence of poetry
poetry is love sowing ...
springtime is synergy
of flower, poesy and love... !
Spring, a time when nature promises seedlings to stretch out their roots firmly embed deep into earth soil for nutrients and water. Eyes of envy upon the world's soul and mind as nature resumes its loveliness.
Love in the air of dancing aromas of fresh budding flowers filling the air. The sun's kiss and smell of rain that bath Nature's inflorescence meadows in the afterglow before the blooms fade and all forgotten.
Spring brings new feelings and emotions when just stepping outside, breathing life and enjoy beautiful reborn scenery. Sounds of birds in the trees and shrubs. Animals become active with more abundance of food, feelings of love, joy, hope, and growth.
fair dandelion
vision swaddle in raindrops
comely butterfly
3/26/2021
Poetry Contest: Springtime Haibun Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
June, you welcome the sunset afterglow
Of a new brimming full Strawberry Moon.
The final full moon of spring you bestow.
Amid your warmest longer days’ balm flow
And shortest nights given a silver tune.
June, you welcome the sunset afterglow.
Nature's inflorescence meadows charm grow
In gleaming fabled moon heart start to swoon.
The final full moon of spring you bestow.
Summer solstice first day of season show
Children's joyful laughter till afternoon.
June, you welcome the sunset afterglow.
Romance inspires inviting night to slow
Down endow with poetic lovesick loon.
The final full moon of spring you bestow.
You brighten the world gardens with their boon
Among the rhythm rain that may be gone soon.
June, you welcome the sunset afterglow
The final full moon of spring you bestow.
7/14/2020
Don't utilize stimulant,
don't be intoxicated,
unbeaten!
Behave natural
do poetry online ...
Inflorescence?
brand news ... poetry
bears fruit hatches
in the world...
Eureka ...
stimulates the mind,
exercises the brain,
employ the hippocampus
drawing poems ...
Recycling...
modern Times,
other ways,
creation,
recreation...
strip poetry ...
Creative mind,
healthy psyche,
do not lose mind,
everything changes,
everything converts ...
Stop and realize...
comet poetry
Come along and sit with me
And let us share a memory
Of a Spring morning with a gentle breeze.
When spied a cardinal perched in a cherry tree;
Resplendent red plumaged vision;
Radiating from soft white inflorescence;
Variegation searing the moments influence;
Homage to creations inspirational brilliance;
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset,
nature’s inflorescence meadows charm tread.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Gleam before the blooms fade and all forget.
Lavender, Daffodil, Take Me Instead!
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset.
Balm Jasmine, Hyacinth, Granny’s Bonnet,
slightest glow of early morning love shed.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Marigold, Primrose, at bay ... they trumpet,
raising spring voices in radiance bed.
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset.
Freesia, Begonia, nimbus duet,
rainbow chardonnay bouquet, insect fed.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Splashes of color for the daily fret,
nourishing aglow with warmth, grace breath spread.
Bathing in the afterglow of sunset.
Sprays of flowers for my woven basket.
Sweet inflorescence
in Candy's flower shop,
and Candy standing there
in floral dress
She is smiling,
with white teeth showing,
and is inviting you to buy
her flowers
You choose,
and she makes a pretty picture,
snipping red ribbons
and smiling all the while
-------------------------------------
5/29/2015
Contest - Your Favourite Old Poem
Sponsor - Shadow Hamilton
***************************
A win
Spring labor of rainbow blossom
As soft, gentle warm breeze pass
A tranquil redolence fragrance
Ballad on carpet grass
Clear,crisp mirrored fragile bubbles
Of purples, pinks, greens, and blend
Float and dance amongst the valley
Rupture with wet descend
My heart caresses a bouquet
Rainbow bubbles and carefree
As the fields blossoms quince for thirst
In memory of thee
Inflorescence spring flowers reborn
Breaths of bubbles gently kiss the morning blossoms
© Eve Roper 4/11/2015
Deep down thighs, unhoisted,
what was there, harvesting the sperms ? At dusk
an inflorescence breaks into myriads
of fireworks, wrecked apologia,
interned unlikeness, insanity, kissing the goldenrod
to start the flow of bare grief.
I deserve no nobility, my moonscape
has a blazing truth about a shooting star
which went into a gape groaning. Somebody
is done for, for a fragile skull. The riverbed
buries the dead child in white sands.
That lump rises again. I said, I never carry
the death on my shoulders. Wrap up and play
the drums for I lost the pathways to enemies.
SATISH VERMA
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