Ivy Poems - Poems about Ivy

Poison Ivy

     Walking on her way to class
        she developed poison ivy

     Chants of ‘Kill the Jews’ – crude and crass
        have now replaced in 'Crimson’s yahd’ *
      

The Holly, but, more importantly, The Ivy

The great big oak tree casts off his coat while the rest of us put ours on,
Throwing down the golden-brown piles of spiky leaves,
A dance floor for the couple everyone’s talking about.
It’s their time now, their time in the pallid sun!
And sure, Holly might make a scene, berry-ripe in snow, like children’s faces,
But her slender

Boston Ivy

POTD~

In the misery of a paler grey nightfall
she blinks like citrine glazed along walls,
Ivy of Boston flaunts her shimmer without guilt
as palette of amber claims her lustrous glides 
slithering with her bohemian lift,
rosette flesh blushing in chilled breeze.

Social climber this paramour, whirling
among plants wanton wild ,
trickles of mist freckle palms of curled leaves-
stem for stem--

Loneliness is just an ivy

Loneliness is just an ivy,
It creeps through your window, unhurried,
It doesn't diminish the darkness of the night, nor chase away hidden demons,
It just sits there, with legs crossed, letting the gentle breeze
Kiss its damp alabaster cheeks and the black night envelop it.
It seems sad when it sighs, but its eyes carry a strange peace,
It changes

The Ivy Machine

They call it a temple of knowledge,
but the walls were never meant for thought—
only the careful curation of power,
where names are chiseled in Latin
and inheritance is mistaken for intelligence.

The gates are high,
not to keep the world safe,
but to keep the chosen ones in—
a factory of fathers’ sons,
daughters of old wealth
repackaged as prodigies,
spitting polished syllables over

Ivy League

Fingertips etched and wrapped,
white knuckled, yet steadfast -
the journey never finished because
  ...there is no destination 
except the next brick or perhaps
              EGO?
What then, when there are no more 
           

King Henry VIII translation by Michael R Burch

Love ever green
attributed to King Henry VIII
translation by Michael R. Burch

If Henry VIII wrote the poem, he didn’t quite live up to it! – MRB

Green groweth the holly,
so doth the ivy.
Though winter’s blasts blow never so high,
green groweth the holly.

As the holly groweth green
and never changeth hue,
so am I, and ever have been,
unto my lady

Poison Ivy-Nineteen Eighty Three Again

Rockin' tough
Rockin' touch
Rocket rock star's 
Still in love
Hallowed halls of 
Doobie's lair
The Sunset Gang 
Played air band there
Mr. Salty
Zimmer-cam
Winkles and
The Ramel's jam
Wildman
Screaming Me
Pounded sounds
On Adams Street
Check us out 
On cable TV
It's Sticks Rambo 
       and Company
Again its 
       Nineteen Eighty Three

Poison Ivy Love

Tough times I'm glad
Ready to face the hardest
The more times we had
Less sweat to walk the farthest
Your love is a needle in the ocean
Unforeseen yet attract my wisdom
Upon this savvy heart full of emotion
Never was I succumb of your ivy venom.

Threads of Ivy

Interwoven in my happiness
Are threads of doubt
The way the ivy on the neglected window
Keeps the sunshine out;

I can trim away the ivy
And make the windows clear
If I can climb to the top of the ladder
From way down here;

Even with the window clear
I'll be on the outside looking in -
The view is so limited
And it's where

Poison Ivy

Remember that leaves of three,
means you better let them be;
Don’t get a rash on your ass,
using the wrong type of grass,
when in the woods you have to go pee.

Trapped in the Ivy League

Kathy Boudin thought the U.S. beyond repair,
She thought she saw the deep reality, and it was unfair.
From SDS to the Weather Underground,
She dived deep in Marxism, plain sense no longer found.

A bomb went off, unintended, by chance,
Meant to shatter lives at a soldier's dance.
Kathy didn't learn from  that gory scene,
She fled intact, still in

Ivy

The ivy plant, green and bold hugging the
Iron gate

             Guards the dwellers within 
Unaware tho they might be

The midnight visitor, well acquainted with 
Ivy

Deposits fresh fertilizer as the luxurious 
Leaves, intricately intertwined 

Provide purposeful seclusion for Ivy's friend
Unseen by the horrific, harassing 

Talon-fanged

The Ivy League

Covered deep in
Poison Ivy
A rash that spreads
and burns

Its toxic mass
left festering
With younger minds
to churn

What used to be
a noble cause
Malingers
in disease

Whose vines grow wild 
to trap the dark …
That once were climbed
—to free

(The New Room: December, 2023)

Goodbye To This Ivy

COMMON was it growing up from grounded poverty
Ominous was the task; that it approached with glee
Monumental; the first rung on an iron ladder would be
Making its way; climbing  would not always be; sunny
Over time, this world; this way; driven to near insanity
Now, though, looking back; It has earned a legacy 

It spread from post

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