Unfruitful Poems | Examples

Ode on Hope

If can I hear the only voice of own
Breathing sound at the top resounds room,
The half rays of sun surround at dawn
Sphere thousand birds morning as groom.

At this time one sit on chair with table
Writing about solitary that snare in day,
Spell of life reduce,charm not stable,
Now,neither ambitions nor joy make way.

Unfruitful place where noone gather
Is one getting death-curse on life-bless,
The bright tomorrow that I saw bother
Never remain in dream that crash.

Oh! how they lucky who are together,
But God creates all stories unique,
Don't be dull,who knows,when leather
Become coat but then glitter beneath.

maybe tomorrow she told herself

Her attempts at writing were unfruitful.
Stark white page sneered and called her mean names.
Loser, stupid, dummy, idiot….
She stared at the page.

Writing was not a big deal.
Lots of people did it.
The thin blue lines stuck out their tongues at her.
Maybe tomorrow she told herself.
Her muse gave her the finger.

The Frigid Finch

I Silently sipping the last limping remains of wine
within the crumbling confines of my glass.
guiltlessly glistening in the amorous arms of evergreen.
Lonesomely, my eyes lift themselves
up from my blackened
blue brass bottle of bitterness
and gradually grows aware
of the arid aristocratic atmosphere.
Lustered with the luminous larks
who lurk within the numbing neon
nature of the iridescent nightlife.
But among these unfruitful flocks
feebly flutters the faint fanciful feathers of the frigid finch.

Who still sternly staggers his weakened way through the
world’s wishful
word woven woodlands of what if towards the eternally
terminal edge
of mortality.
In search of an answer
patiently perched upon the topic of
what light lingers within the relieving realms of truth.

Valentine

V- Valued above and beyond any mortal I know.

A- All her hopes and dreams are centered on God.

L- Like leaven, she finds a way to rise to the top.

E- Enter her home and find God's love being served.

N- No one is left hungry, nor is anyone left behind.

T- Time and again, her home has been opened to the homeless.

I- I have witnessed the fruits of her labors of love for 50 years.

N- None dare call her ways frivolous nor her works unfruitful.

E- Every beat of her heart longs for the pleasure of God's Presence.


011823PSCtest, Valentine Poetry Contest. Mystic Rose Rose. 4P

Subtle Socialism

"A man convinced against his own will, is of the same opinion still".


It used to be 

two opinions  
two paths 
two ideologies 
Two Choices

Day and Night,
Men and women, 
Boys and girls, 
Fathers and mothers,
Rights and the wrongs

open and closed, 
gain and loses, 
Lovers and the haters, 
Good and evil, 
Rich and poor, 
Foolish and wise, 
success and failure, 

learned and  unlearned ,
The living and the dead, 
The willing and unwilling, 
The thankful and thankful, 
fruitful and unfruitful, 
Righteous and the unrighteous.
the truthful and the Liars,  

 Then came 
The "Vaxxed" and  "unvaxed". 
the sane and the insane, 
Then they had a problem
as Nations bow to Socialism 
and President becomes Dictators 
and pharmaceutical made the world a Lab
and the media as viceroy
compel us by repetition.

Barren She Was

Her bones were
desolate, cold, unfruitful

Her body was
unproductive, despicable, empty,
isolated, untended, unloved, barren

She stood alone under generations of highly motivated producers
Watiting for a moment that never arrived.
Chosen in no way by no one.

The Flu That Can Be a Person

The Flu; that can be a person around you.
If someone is always having their selfish thoughts, ways and ideas.
This can be true of some of the people near or not far.
If, they're always thinking that the world’s center of proximity,  
has to be very near their own personal vicinity.

They never learning from their mistakes;
keeping themselves in an unending trilogy movie.
This to cause many unfruitful perplexing calamities.
They are rude, obnoxious, perverse and most treacherous.  
The recovery from their Flu can be like coming out of a Tempest.

Dark Debonair Cheers

Despite your proclivity for the dramatic,
your latest love saga limps barren of marrow.
Perhaps your heart’s unfruitful seeds need a harrow,
lest your spent nuance-fields shrivel up traumatic.

You brag and attest that cupid well tends your quest,
leaving raw, arrow-clad women piled as discards.
You secretly fear lust might pulse your heart to shards,
yet with temerity, you divest, then detest.

Wimpy-lame best names your decrepit armature.
You feel sure you have sent many down pain’s vortex.
You think yourself debonair and worldly complex,
but such false cheers just you hear in dark’s aperture.










CayCay Jennings 
November 1, 2018 
written for contest that required the italicized words be used

My Apology

Apologies for the opprobrious actions that have been brought             

For Thee, who descended from the exalted throne of Camelot                

Patiently guiding and reminiscing of what has been forgot                             

My constituent tactics will forevermore be at naught              

Ruminating and beholding rain for a garden's flowerpot

For introducing a valueless and unfruitful counter-plot           

Being the barren soil, being the one who became a sunspot

Spoken before the unseen and plants encircled within earshot   

The evoking morning rays of consciousness have caused some distraught 

Occurred the substantial difficult admonition for one taught                        

Through time, traveling as a cosmonaut, change of heart, change of thought   

Eons An Augenblick, please keep this seed inside the orchard’s plot


Updated 5/14/2019

Time May Change Soon

TIME MAY CHANGE SOON!!

                     Absence of leaves can not impede on my happiness, 
                     Absence of green color cannot ruin my prettiness.
                     Don't be confounded if am not giving oxygen,
                     Don't be astounded if I am not able to show gradation.
                     Don't interpret me wrongly if I am not offering shade,
                     Don't conclude me inferior if am unfruitful and fade.
                     I am hopeful as standing fearless and straight,
                     I am exceptional possessing a distinct trait.
                     No worries, time may change soon, 
                     And I may appear with full bloom.
                     Turn of events may change the position,
                     Rain of blessings may yield a conversion.
                     Don't be so quick to judge someone,
                     Nothing is permanent, anything may happen.

The Alpha Male

The howling of the lone gray wolf
His fingerprint sound waves
Reaches out to his alpha female
And to enemies like staves

His hunt unfruitful this night 
No ungulates found alive
Few scavenged tidbit pieces
Barely enough to survive

His alpha mate heavy with pups
tucked into the warm den
Hunger gnawed away at her, weak~
dreams of a fat tough hen

Maybe fate would befriend her mate
At least a deer he'll kill
And bring  home a lean hind quarter
An empty stomach fill

Sixty days or so the liter carried
Must be many large pups  
Maybe four or even seven
Seven pups a deluxe

They'll be delivered just in time
For the deer, elk and moose
To give birth to their fawns~ easy prey
Food source hidden in the spruce

Hunger will recede through the summer
They'll be plenty of game
Maybe at least one pup will survive
To the future lay claim

Contest: Canis Lupus The Wolf
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Written: April 06, 2015

The Mother

I have lost my belongings a long time ago,
But still travel in search of truth long days and moonlit nights,
along a calm river flow.
I am not tired, 
still search shelter  under old trees,
to sleep into dreams,
of thy tender arms, touching my trembling body.
Smile that lit up several lights,
eyes that closed within many hopes, many loves and white flowers.
Is there silence of an unfruitful search?
Will my expectations die with me?
People are ignorant, I am ignorant, helpless
You make me feel the truth now, it’s different if seen.
Take me into your tender arms,
let my questions disappear.

Nothing But More Questions

She walked off into peripheral, feral and alone
a lonely individual, trudging on the stone
out into the element, not welcome back home
beautiful, intelligent, yet worn to the bone
routine was reality, cause real wasn't known
she told me,  feeling this , felt as a drone
fear and shaky ground, surely made her prone
falling unsupported, the state still condoned
this way or that, no attention could be loaned
prevention proving problematic
 past parodies partly shone
privacy trumps compassion, it happens she's grown
so my effort to recover info, unfruitful, lay sown
 nothing but more questions, and my sad little poem
 nothing but more questions, and my sad little poem

Free Cee On Laws and Flaws

ON LAWS AND FLAWS

All the laws of common sense do not apply to me
All of them only lamentably and lasciviously lie to me
All the rules of logic do not relate to me
All of them only serve to belabor and berate me

All the common sense in the world is of no concern to me
They only represent things I will never learn to me
I am engaged to no one nor do I plan any meaningful meeting
And any fancies I might find are unfruitful and far too fleeting

All the facts of affections have no affect on me
All my atrocious acts totally represent and reflect on me
All the policies and politics of politeness don’t pertain to me
And the concerns of consideration mean only other’s people’s pain to me

My lack of common sense is not common to say the least
While my acts of inconsideration have indecently increased
More than likely my fancies will fade as ice melts in the sun
And the anger of people I’ve harmed keep me ever on the run
        © 2013  copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~

My Dear Friend

The thunder outside shatters my hope
In incessant rain soaks my faith
The lightning above burns my patience
But the joy of your memories keeps me alive.
My dear friend where are you?

Months of unfruitful waiting no longer holds me
My wet eyes no longer speaks to me
My mirror by the window no longer sees me
But the joy of your memories keeps me alive.
My dear friend where are you?

The clock above leaves me pining 
Twinkling stars tell me tales
The heavy breeze whispers faith
But the joy of your memories keeps me alive.
My dear friend why so late?

The hair hanging down my neck is left untied
The bows of my gown are left undone
Many questions in my little heart are left unanswered
I am here praying for the blessing of your sweet company
My friend when will you come?

The silence of my soul frowns at me
Loneliness of my self twines over me
Dark angles around tug at my faith
Before I loose to them all
Before we loose each other
Dear friend, please come soon.

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