Long Flowerpot Poems

Repent and change your ways
Wait fervently till you see brighter days
Repent and change your ways
Martin Luther King Jr. just wanted us to feel liberty and we still haven’t achieved it...yet we give praise...in happy-go-lucky days

Face...

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The LittLe Flowepot 


A little flower pot all alone,

Looking for a loving home.

Over the years he had grown many flowers,

Inside the window and away from the showers.



Geraniums, chrysanths and many more

Reds, pinks, yellows and blue...

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Some one a small tree given to me
wild grape tree
was placed in the upper right corner of
writing poems desk
when sing, thinking
when miss any one
when I just stand still
when leaving or entering a room
I looked at...

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My Gentlemen, 
I have done all it takes.
Made fore my man, was a formless frame
Worked by a wombsman, unplaned, clear of grain
A brittle whittled acorn piece, I had his insides changed.
Had him brained by belts...

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Flobodobba-dob? asked Bill of Ben
Dobba-flob? Ben asked Bill to repeat again
Ah!! Dobba-flobbing flobadom Bill confirmed with linguistic skill
Flobbing dobba-do dob do Ben wrote down with his Quill

Hadn't the flowerpot men heard of Google Translate
then they...

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It's rocking an empty flowerpot perched
in a pine tree:  'RockABye Baby in the High Top,'
its contents shell shocked in this February 
of zero wind chill.  It's the heart's empty nest,  
cold ripple...

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Apologies for the opprobrious actions that have been brought             

For Thee, who descended from the exalted throne of Camelot    ...

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You see all those flowers in the garden,
You like the rose more than the violets,
Sunflower seems to catch your eyes,
Marigolds never were your types,
Plucking up all those flowers you go home
 and put them in...

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Blooming colors in shade and sun;
Fragrant elegance, not to be outdone!
In field, garden and flowerpot,
The rose, the violet, and forget-me-not.

Proud and erect upon the stem,
All who pass must notice them!
Pastels and deeps; an array of...

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Someday when my land is more fertile 
And my gardener is ready to toil
I shall welcome you my precious flower 
And nurture you in my soil

Faced with responsibility and emotion
Humbled by the reality of obligation...

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I go to visit you and there I stand
Between me and you 
Hay, dust, dirt, and some land
A beautiful pot of flowers unmanned
I feel like I am in a church service
But, outside I am
I come...

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Eight months ago, a white coffin was carried out
                  Four men in black suits ... not a shadow...

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The couch potato sits as he did long ago
Since video killed the radio star and
Hands that do dishes
The box in the corner
An ever morphing capitalists dream
Long since and now
It peers at us with sights and...

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