It was resistant to oxygen deprivation.
There was something about that seed.
You could never cut its umbilical chord.
Plant a seed, watch it grow
How it happens, I don’t know
A little rain, a little sun
But I don’t know how it is done.
Slowly reaching for the sky
Still, I cannot tell you why.
Flowers, trees, weeds, and grain
Just don’t ask me to explain
There’s really just one need: plant a seed.
Plant a seed, dream a dream
Live your life, be extreme
Make a move, diversify
Just don’t ask me to tell you why
Reality from pretend,
You never know just where or when
Lawyers, artists, doctors, too
There’s really nothing you can’t do
There’s really just one need: plant a seed.
Bring t’me seed of darkness special,
I’ll from dawn, of brightness special.
Thoughts crowd the mind dressed as special,
Some more so, some are less special.
What to wear, what not’s worth weighing,
In merit, one’s dress is special.
In today’s times of power and puff,
No less is one’s address special.
Bring to me a man bogged with blame,
Confess he’ll, goodness is special.
___________________________
Ghazal |03.09.2025| dress, bless, goodness, riddle
i'm a small flower
a seed gifted to you by the universe
meant to grow under your care
flourish
people don't like getting seeds
they don't want to plant them
to care for them
to be responsible
they'd rather have a fully grown flower
no work, easy
put water in a vase, leave it to wilt
slowly watching it die
only watching
not interacting
as life slips away
why didn't you try to save me?
i could've been so beautiful
if only you wanted to plant me
help me grow
care
people don't really like getting flowers
flowers die
i died
why am i temporary in everyone's life?
ETERNAL SEED
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
eternal seed grows
mind flooded with connections
thoughts flow from inside
Within a person, there are planted by the Creator, seeds. Some of Goodness and others may be not by choice, Bad. Then, there are feelings to go along with these planted seeds. Gravation towards, and distance to avoid. Fear is distance to avoid.
It is important to have two sides of emotions. For there is an upside and a downside to life and the Creator made it so. If one gravatates towards good and not evil; this is a plus. However, there may be times when one is not sure. Fear plays a large part, in that, it makes one fearful and that makes one choose
between the two, positive or negative.
Fear is a very vocal sense against something to avoid. It is a healthy emotion that instils in a person; caution. However, if there is too much emotion on fear, that can cause trouble for an individual. And can make them mentally sick.
So to some up, Fear, is a seed and is a healthy emotion to have, but can go a rye if not checked.
I remember staying quiet
hiding under a rock
a paralyzing fear
~ literally petrified ~
I'd lost my tongue
in shock at the injustice
my head spinning
in a whirlwind of confusion
It never occurred to me
that someone could be
found guilty and punished
for something I had done
And still I sat there numb
in my evergrowing shame
to this day guilty and unforgiven
~ I was old enough to know better
AP: 3rd place 2025
In seventh grade’s uncertain glow,
She sat outside where shadows grow.
Backpacks slumped, the sunlight waned,
While restless truths could not be named.
A thought slipped free, both shy and sly,
A quiet murmur: I think I’m bi.
The friend leaned close, her gaze intent,
Questions sharp as the day was spent.
How do you know? Does a girl’s soft face
Haunt your mind in a secret place?
She shook her head, though deep inside,
The truth stirred fierce, refused to hide.
Two girls in Python’s tented gloom,
One kissing the other’s skin in bloom—
A spark had flared, both hot and sweet,
A memory time would not defeat.
Curious—nothing more, the claim,
A verdict wrapped in quiet shame.
Yet there beneath that fading sun,
Her truth had bloomed—its fight begun.
One of many, yet set apart,
A seed without its tree.
Still, the roots take hold,
Still, the branches reach.
One in four, rising strong,
To lift the old tree from its sorrow.
One in four, breaking through clouds,
Carrying the light he once followed.
In hope that one becomes all,
And all become four,
So his dream, even in silence,
Will never die.
They told me, “Stop, it’s not your way,
Your path is wrong, your sky is gray.”
But roots don’t listen to the crowd,
they grow beneath the noise so loud,
and reach for light they’ve never seen.
I walked the fields they never crossed,
counted the hours they thought were lost.
Their easy crowns were quickly worn,
but I kept building, thorn by thorn,
a truth that time would prove was keen.
For knowledge grows in patient ground,
in work where no applause is found.
And when the bloom began to rise,
their doubt turned slowly into eyes
that saw what silence had begun.
Now every leaf repeats the call:
the seed that fights will stand as tall
as any gift the storm may give -
for roots that choose their way to live
will always find the sun.
Ominous bays of hellhounds thunder in the bleak night
As a shattered glass slipper is found amongst powdered ivory snow,
The glint caught within incorporeal warping moonlight—
Leading to a blue grey corpse, mangled with frozen tears cemented in place.
Hands clenched around a copper timepiece,
The minute hand paused at one past twelve.
The putrid scent of desperation still hangs heavy in the air.
A note, scribbled in vermilion, is tucked within her bosom:
I'm sorry. I was overwhelmed—and so very lonely. She came to me with promises of grandeur. All I had to do was make a pact: be home by midnight, or my soul would forever be hers.
How could I resist? She seemed so innocent, with the smells of childhood lingering—conjuring up all that is glorious.
Besides, you, my dear family, seemed not to notice, nor care, about the pain quietly consuming me. So I took the deal, inked in blood and sealed with a poisonous kiss.
If you happen to find this note, I never made it back in time. And my fate lies within her mercy.
When the seed of fear is planted in minds,
It germinates in brains as a tormentor—
Sometimes sown by a whisper,
a shadow,
a lie repeated twice.
When illusion becomes reality,
And starts by making the heart
skip a beat,
then more of its beats,
then all of its beat.
It creates monsters in our eyes in the dark,
Born from our own imaginations.
And it can make them fly,
swirl,
drawl,
crawl,
and do anything—
Make our hairs stand on end,
Our feet walk on eggshells,
on a slippery slope.
It can crimp us into a shrimp.
When it creeps into our grip,
It brings a nice gift of heebie-jeebies—
That send us on a purposeless,
directionless meander,
Like a chicken with head just severed
and left unrestrained.
Fear teaches our hands to fight,
And reaches our legs to take flight,
But it’s never patient to judge us right,
Even when fear is out of sight.
When the seed of fear is well tendered,
Fear can even make us no longer
fear fear.
When its taproot has eaten deep
into the hypothalamus,
Then the mind is already gnawed by monsters
That, time and again, we created
out of nothing.
That which once was and can no longer be,
a vision once seen you can no longer see.
When described as a thought, a memory,
or a seed or seedling if it is a tree.
The beginning of something the world now calls me!
The cat didn't give a diddly squat,
she played her fiddle non-stop,
accompanied by her kitten's song
they yowled from dusk till dawn
and the townsfolk never slept!
The fat old cow could not jump
even if she tried (which, of course, she didn't),
she gave no milk, nor cream for butter
so down the road she was sent
to Old Moon's Butchery and Deli.
The little dog is not the laughing sort~
with no sleep and no warm milk
it's no wonder his mood is foul,
he bit the hand that tried to feed him
dried up bits of moldy bread.
The spoon then decided it was all to much,
what with the noise and loss of proper table-setting~
with rules of etiquette in a shambles,
she took her matching dish
and ran away to Once Upon A Time.
The moral of the story is never give a cat a fiddle!
Peter came at half-past three,
Tapping sharply from an apple tree.
“Wendy, Michael, and John, too—
Come and fly; the stars want you.”
Out of the window, hand in hand,
The trio swept above the land.
Their mother's sobs fell away behind.
Another bedtime story she can't unwind.
In Neverland, the sky can't change.
The moon is weird, the sun is strange.
No one grows, and no one there cries—
Every ache for going home soon dies.
Boys and girls forget their names.
Their socks, friends and favorite games.
A mother’s hug, a father’s last song—
Memories dim when you stay too long.
Peter laughs and flies high in midair,
But something empty lingers there.
He doesn’t know what he has lost—
Never growing up, comes at a cost.
Wendy whispered, “We must go!".
"For I've lost my shadow.”
Peter waved and turned away—
Still chasing ghosts of yesterday.
So if you hear a tap-tap one night,
Find your window bathed in light,
Roll over, hide, and stay in bed—
Forget Neverland, sleep on instead.
Related Poems