Long Germinate Poems
Long Germinate Poems. Below are the most popular long Germinate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Germinate poems by poem length and keyword.
IDEA TRAPPERS
I take a semblance of a hen
A hen conceives an egg
And brings forth an egg
The conditions have to be right
Or else there could never be eggs or hens
If that be the end of a story
Even so
The hen after the pain of delivery
The hen does brood the eggs
In hunger and thirst
In patience and focus
And the fullness of time brings forth a son
Sons of chicken many stroll
Or else the story isn’t ending either
This analogy of an egg
Did come trotting in mine heart
That many a times
Elusive ideas do flicker
So does such an idea distantly faintly seem
Or else a trap of revelation waylay
As a bird afore a snare beckoning
A bird in a tinge
A forebode of a danger drifting
Looking this way and that way
And off it takes off
Even ideas too are wingy and windy
Else the story is being told
A good grasp of an idea is ideal indeed
Ideal for a capture embrace
Without grey
This is metaphorical
Hen brood eggs
And as so
An idea has to be conceived first
An idea has to be developed first
In ideal conditions
A seed will germinate
It will sprout and spur
The afore conditions is a pointer
To the futuristic vitality of a seed
And generations, perhaps
Capacity is a function of preparation
Science has it – nature abhors vacuum
And ideas to be generational
Have to face test of time
And as aforementioned
This is the said brooding of an egg by a hen
And many days fleet
In thirst and hunger
Implying determined sacrifice
For a good many
Having skipped a vital phase as it is
Seclusion it is
Or quietness let’s say
Find themselves enmeshed in quagmire
Dire frustration and loss of direction
And speeding drags the victim deeper afar
In the mire of doubts and apathy
When good ideas fall in ideal soils
Is there assurance of a generation to ensue
And vast forest there lay
And many chicken and hens perhaps…
It took the planted seed forever to germinate
Its beautiful blossom withered, welcoming a friendly rain
I have seen the sun fall before the dawn rises
Yet watered every sweat to the rooted root like a basket fully holding it
The Can is yours to take home; let go of the watering and allow nature to grow
It was a miraculous mirage, hoping it would turn a new green leaf
I sat with my imprisoned inner eye beneath another long armed tree
Ready to be plucked without ado or stress
Where I had no handful sown yet reaped from ripened fruitful fruits
Awakening your oblivion to the begotten truthful tale
Wherever on fertile land, a seed drop shall rise again
Adam wasn't fearlessly fearful of Eve but of the favourite forbidden fruits
(C) Yusuf, A.O
Breathe in breathe out repeat, respiration is critical for any lifeform to succeed. All of a sudden I consider myself. Like the soil houses and remembers to shelter the seed, so the flowers germinate and can keep growing while their scent perfumes the air around me. Beautiful reminders I too am changing. Evolving. Beauty is still relevant just rearranging. As previously there were limitations to its phenotypic plasticity causing no growth or elevation. Someone is showing off using me as a demonstration. Like I'm always under observation while I am growing. Like Organogenesis: the development of new organs from meristems. The root of life is in me, the beginning and also the end. The combination of different cycles that one human holds within, is miraculous such a life I am worthy to play a function in. All I had to do was make it to this phase, where I can wake up to smell the flowers I planted along the way. Just be still. Breathe in breathe out, repeat, respiration is critical for any lifeform to succeed.
I Cannot Weight To Hmm...
Be Pressed By A Dumbbell
Two fifteen pound
steely danse sing
wrought iron dumbbells
ill-tempered, impatiently,
and intensely a weight
their turn to hmm... press me,
and forthwith dense trait
heavy handed prestidigitation
to yours truly, this primate
currently attempting
to craft sad excuse
for a poem, sans far fetched
notion, aye trite re: late
engendering, foisting, and goading
bizarre lifelike qualities
to inanimate solid helpmate
to build (and/or oven
just tone) muscles bitterly, painfully,
resignedly wince, where washboard
abdomen long a goner
impossible to recoup,
whar hide didst narrate
ting hours sculpting great
former Adonis build
on these, now nada so lovely
bones, and experience
spiritual strife to oscillate,
perhaps witness sing
angst to esse skill late
heady feeling healthy vim within
myself, how just
with verily at least dedicate
half hour exercise can be great
for body, mind, and
soul triage, otherwise...
basic gravitational laws
of physics gladly
hand me unwanted fate,
how gradually physique
will eventually demonstrate
flabby, droopy, and
unwanted addy post tissue create
ting another reason to berate,
castigate, emasculate, where
self repudiation will germinate
(albeit, thence in extremis), yours truly
doth relinquish fitness regime
resulting sparking, and taste
testing casus belli dictate
tête-à-tête, viz hasty
unconditional surrender to
a void mortal kombat,
which latter, would exterminate,
the forces of yin and yang,
re: lee (I rub hurts) loch cur,
thence finding me fraught,
(yule hiss see - uselessly)
grant ting soul
option to disintegrate,
in the event emotional civil war,
rents asunder every fiber
of mine being, which
wrath wracked wraith self destruction
twill woefully satiate.
Own emotional wounds
Waiting for a seed to germinate
Evergreen, my little bean
The child who was never born
A handful of soft down
Glass bowl with pink walls
with an opening to the universe
Death, no sign of life
A quiet heart
in this star-crossed trip
Blocked by rivers of tears
The painful experience
Unprocessed trauma
When things are difficult
frustration, sadness,
anger and longing
You become completely paralyzed
A piece of my heart
will always be in heaven
The inner dialogue ...
if you only knew
~~~
25.10.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
If only you knew Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
2nd place in the contest
within the under belly of
this hob bull ling Leviathan beast
induced roaring hungry soundcloud issued
within abdominal folds
finding they in creased
never diminishing, matter
whether I turn north, south, west or east
this adult desired,
soon after he envisioned
buttered crispy dish eyed fancily feast
culinary cut throat Michelin meisters
(pit a less lee) pitted
against Pillsbury doughboy greased
imaginatively gobbling hectare
thousand island inlaid
juiced kickstarting least
unable to pay thee Monsieur's consigliere –
damn, hard cold cash just shy by a nickle
aye first taken got taken hostage
as a wreck loose poet,
the anti write cadre
strip searched
every stitch of clothes I wore,
then subjected me to an aye tip pickle
pun hush ment,
where this deplorable basket case
stood aghast as hounds from hell
got loosed by thee Don Rickle
lathered canine chops
slapped by foamy salivating tongues
poised to ham er and
make mince meat out this pop sickle
but...lo and behold, as vicious
snooping doggy dogs
approached within a hair breadth
minecrafted fingers fluttered
in the air asper ready to tickle
whereat the snarling killers (bon jove)
rolled with faux pas in the air
kicking, laughing (or a similar
fox simile thereof),
inciting Major Domo tuff flair
his nostrils (like...well
an amazing dragon)
with blood red eyes didst glare
while fur sprouted over his bare skin
honor ably dispelling every last hair
which bizarre circumstance, an opportunity
to escape from this thieving Magpie lair
approved by the ghost of Rossini,
who suddenly prestidigitatiously
magically brought to my defense William Tell
(in the guise oven
instant activating App) pull lick caisson
thus juiced by a whisker avoiding a scare.
Perhaps the realm where dormant ideas germinate
will coalesce into sturdy tomes even if posthumously late
recognition gets affianced with a memorialized slate
where no body will lie,
cuz this mortal will get his ashes sprinkled
intermixed with wildlife,
who will unknowingly consecrate and sanctify
rack and pinion traction,
where dost dust will fertile lies
to become reincarnated
via blessings sans creatures who defecate or urinate.
Is friendship like a funeral
Where cold frenzies are played out
Among friends of the darling years?
Neighbours protect themselves
In solid caves of ancient discord
Where offsprings are bred & armed
With deadly weapons of hatred!
Men linger here sad & tired
As in a land of the living-dead –
The drummers are like the dancers:
A shadow of their ancestors!
War-eyed fake & drudged intellectuals
Litter our paths of native mind
Bearing giant luggage of rumours
More fearful than real battles
Of castled Chauceric knights!
O in those far-away tenements
And squalors which house students
Many an empty ruse germinate
In a soil rich in abuses!
Two inmates fled from the night
To those hut-like structures
Where secret readings are enacted –
Then two lads for long cursed!
Men & women & kids linger here
In a small society born for love
Sensibility & contemplation & inquiry
Forsaken in cold rumours of wars
While sanity & love dwell in the grave!
Does hatred breed love & health & life?
The Oxford days are gone?
Form:
We agonize in defeats, but thrill over the games we've WON.
There's a time and season for every purpose under the SUN.
May we not allow our personal purposes to go UNDONE.
The time is approaching when God will determine the SUM.
Of times and seasons, may there be no pleads of IGNORANCE.
Everyone will be accountable, and there will be no NDIFERENCE.
This is the time, the season, whereby knowledge has INCREASED.
At the end in Noah's day, everyone was forced to end the FEAST.
There is a grieving time to be ill; and a happy time to be HEALED;
There were times we spent and spent; now it's time to pay the BILLS.
In such times as these, mysteries and revelations are to be REVEALED.
Leaders must surround themselves with those who can open the SEALS.
Seasons often have no reason for their malfeasance, and their lyrics do not always RHYME. But there must be a time to understand the TIMES.
King Xerxes and King David, both had and utilized men who understood the times*. Their understandings allowed them to give the right and proper advice to their KING. Sometimes the words of the wise were challenging, often threatening, and seldom did they cause anyone to SING.
Those Golden Seals, so desperately needed in our time, are aligned with the times like seeds awaiting to germinate. We have a date with destiny; the hour is late, but let us seek to understand the times and never cease to pray.
062721PSCtest, A Brian Strand Rime Poetry Contest, Brian Strand
*1 Chron. 12:32; Est. 1:13
With frill-edged petals, in red, white, orange and yellow,
Beauteous daffodils gorgeously gleam and glow;
With long, wide, collaterally aligned leaves stand erect,
Tulips of all colors, as though in beauty so perfect;
Blue urn shaped flowers thrill-filled dancing,
Muscari stands as though glory-glaring;
Nodding with bell-shaped flowers, Lily of the valley,
Stands solemn with its glossy leaves with no folly;
Flowers, indeed, make my spring gloriously great,
My soul, a butterfly midst them, joyfully does elevate;
Their tentativeness, when, my mind alternates,
Rebirth and resurrection, like seeds, in me, germinate...!
07 March 2022
Spring Showers or Spring Flowers Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Me
A lump!
Why?
How did it get there?
Please make it go away
I'm scared, I have to finish my shower so I can tell mom
Three days later I wake up groggy, vomiting, in pain, and much disoriented with one breast bigger than the other
Mom!
Mom
They caught it in time.
The doctor found three lumps one on top of the other ready to root out
Why do you exist?
I address you with concern because I'm irate
All you do is create distress
I understand that you do not discriminate
You attack and destroy my body tissue
I stepped into the ring with you
And blocked all your punches
Now I need to get my rest to feel my best
To germinate, developed, and bloom like a beautiful rose that I am
I've lost a breast because you exist
I'm going to fight and beat you to the very end
I will never lose hope
I will celebrate each day
9/13/2015
I was 17, naive, and very frightened when I discovered a lump in my left breast.
I was very fortunate that they did not remove the breast if the cancer hadn't spread.