Travel's eyes-wide-open education
School's four walls, compartmentalization
More destinations to view on this planet
~ than seeds in a pomegranate
Transparent red rubies hidden
Inside of the palest yellow flesh
When I thought there were no more
Sweet seeds
I tore a seemingly vacant chunk
To reveal layers
Upon layers
Of sustenance
My friend
Don't panic if you feel
Torn to pieces
For the sweetest fruit will emerge
From the tear in your heart.
Just keep searching
And you will discover the hidden
Seeds.
He’s a great painter,
hands skilled in light and shadow,
canvas after canvas bending to his will.
Landscapes, faces, still lifes
he’s captured them all,
each stroke praised, each color admired.
But this painting,
this one refuses to bend.
He needs the crimson pomegranate,
a shade that dances between ripeness and fire,
but every mixture of oil and pigment
falls flat, dull, lifeless.
He experiments, obsessively,
hours into nights,
days folding into each other.
Nothing achieves the hue he dreams.
Nothing breathes.
Then, in a sudden, terrible clarity,
he understands:
his perfect crimson pomegranate
requires human blood.
A chill spreads through him.
The formula whispers its demand.
Will he let obsession claim him?
Will he paint the color at the cost of life?
The canvas waits, unjudging,
but the choice…
the choice is his alone.
pomegranate opened,
disarray unfurls
Pomegranate flowers
Are when earth
Poses.
As a dancer in orange boots
And a fluffy, veiled orange dress.
Pomegranate
Careful, tentative and delicate tips shiver over the forgiving skin
Shell barring the bloody body of the fruit
Only condemned to,
consumption
Bruising without protest
Its sweetness not asked for - only expected
Though some things are more beautiful broken
a pomegranate
with ruby marbles inside~
sweet n' sour delight
The world is somehow a pomegranate
Every individual of us in it is the seeds
Having stayed similar to juicy tastes
Holding together long yawning for grace
Dreaming to germinate in the spring breeze
And to grow up and stand tall in the soil
Blooming virtually and quietly in the Sun-rays
And to appeal the amethyst for your please
Oh, lord! You'd be proud of thee for all
For so many myths, you leave there to face
And so many choices given alike in blind dates
what an autumn juice!
beautiful dark sweet neat pink!
so natural way!
Arid, bony-shanked carapace.
Shiny, weathered patina
tells of desolation,
Belies any promise of richness;
Yet when inverted,
Becoming regal.
A tatty, crown implies
The ancient purport.
Tough, yet easily-torn in avarice.
Revealing, inner passion
Shrieks fecundity and blood,
Gleams with shiny liveliness;
Yet when sundered,
Serried jewels.
A secret, inner-order shows
The abundant warrant.
Red, a study of translucence.
Deep-hued, each perfect gem
Fades to stalk-umbilicus,
Foretells the unborn orchard;
Yet when amassed,
Bitter-sweet.
A fruitful sumptuousness gives life
The noble pomme grenate.
Cut open pomegranate Christmas lights aril
Syrup drips erupt bitter volcano alluvium ooze
Blackberry gall sullies crust creamy caramel
Chroma pervades pavlova cracks in lilac hues
North Pole prepared sugar sack, sans limit
Blizzard whip season removes several months
Egg fragile igloo glitters in shell smash grit
Featherboa snow stiletto cabaret flamboyance
Santa avalanches resume a ruby ice unity
Investing in fuel for rocket launching research
Sleigh's sky laughs at axle trapped gravity
Astronauts unconcious core to raunch dessert
13th March
Thirsty for Departure
love pomegranate
floral and fauna embrace
phileo eros
Outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
Rays of the sun there in yellow red glow,
Grass wilting brown which is fanced by the stone,
Whispers to crickets: »Our time here runs slow.«
Outside the city where the pomegranates throne,
Whistles are born in the shadows they've grown,
Water is scarce and by hot sun consumed,
Pomegranate's taste still to all men is known.
Outside the city where the pomegranates bloomed,
You were and I by our sweet love perfumed,
Problems in city were locked far away,
We were by moment so joyous consumed.
Outside the city where the pomegranates say,
»Moment has passed dear, and she went astray.«
I'm in theirs shadows in warmest July,
Wondering what caused our love to decay.
Outside the city where the pomegranates die,
I'm standing up throwing my youth awry,
Story is shifting to city aglow,
Pomegranate garden I wish you good-by.
outside the city where the pomegranates grow,
is where we buried the years six feet below.
all of the magic clung to the tragic
and we knew it was not time yet to go.
but of all the love,
i would not erase a single thing.
all of the memories,
i want to remember everything.
we saw Aphrodite serenade a dove,
and Eve, dripping scarlet nectar from her mouth.
and everything seemed so succulent
even through the drouth.
when we looked into the heaven's eyes,
i saw my own rebirth.
understanding the purity,
fearing its responsibility,
we followed the footsteps
of the first woman on earth.
Not one, three bowls of lovely pomegranates
Look, the passion incarnate
Love or hate as you like, please don't desecrate
Gateway to glorious ecstasy
Of serene sensuality holding supreme creativity
And the all seeing mighty eyes!
Invitation to the abundant festival of inhalations
‘Come, honeycombs are ready
Bees throughout eternity, come and benumb
Come here and swamp the boat’
Under the lavish moon there in the dark lagoon
---------------------------------------------------------------
25 February,2016
Contest: Visualize Scrutinize and Remark
Sponsored by:Forever Malta
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