Ivy Poems - Poems about 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’ * ...

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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...

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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--...

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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...

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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...

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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 ...

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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...

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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...

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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....

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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...

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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. ...

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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...

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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...

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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) ...

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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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