Let’s brighten up the space
Add a little light
Get a little houseplant
To make things new and bright
Watered up and cared for
The plant began to grow
But soon it was forgotten
With the brand new glow
A solitary houseplant
Sitting on the sill
Though you have forgotten it
The pot is waiting still
The plant did fine for just awhile
But soil soon turned dry
Soon it added to the pile
Of things you said youd try
The sparseness of the water
Was an artificial drought
The poor unwatered sapling
Didnt know what thats about
solitary houseplant
Sitting on the sill
Though you have forgotten it
The pot is waiting still
Soon enough the plant will starve
It’s leaves begin to wilt
Shriveling and dying
In the house i thought we built
solitary houseplant
Sitting on the sill
Though you have forgotten it
The pot is waiting still
The plant is long since dead
The soil dry as dust
The brown and crumbled stalk a thread
To show a sign to us
A plant will need it’s water
Just as any living thing
Once it’s gone dont even bother
Cuz you never can bring
It back.
Feeling like a blade of grass,
Trampled on as strangers pass.
Unwatered, left to nature’s whim,
A fragile life, a light grown dim.
Beneath the weight of careless feet,
I bend and break in cold defeat.
No voice to cry, no strength to stand,
Just one small piece of dying land.
The sky above, indifferent blue,
Shows no concern, no guiding clue.
The rain’s a hope, a fleeting ghost,
A memory of what I need the most.
The sun’s harsh rays, they burn and blind,
A relentless force, a cruel bind.
I thirst for life, for drops of grace,
But find no comfort in this place.
In shadows deep, I try to grow,
But darkness only feeds my woe.
Each day, a battle, each night, a test,
With weary roots, I seek some rest.
My neighbors fall, one by one,
Beneath the weight of scorching sun.
Together, we endure the plight,
Helpless in the endless fight.
Mother Nature, distant, cold,
A cruel caretaker, if truth be told.
We cling to life with desperate grasp,
In silent pain, our spirits rasp.
Feeling like a blade of grass,
Walked upon, as moments pass.
In helplessness, I find my place,
A silent cry, a fading trace.
Million and one things better than applause..
okay to go through life ne'er seeking praise.
Though rain tree unwatered, grows half as tall,
an unloved heart wilts in overbear'n shade.
Your so called friends left such beauty undone.
chide more than console you 'can't win 'em all'
Well, perhaps not your day courageous one,
they meant to maim, not name belle of the ball.
Love's heart-shaped slipper, torch carried for you..
finest soul yours, only fit worth trying.
Turn away from bright stars, riven'd in two..
my eyes were ne'er any good at lying.
Can you hear it pretty belle of the ball?
a heart's applause, best won prize of them all.
'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?'
Were I to be more truthful, and less kind
Once fair, your hair now more consumed by gray
Your dewy luster I struggle to find
As weighted toll of years fills in your frame
And roses on your cheeks falter and fade
I can not say if it is age I blame
Or from the fall of youth, a cynic's made
Is it my eyes too blighted to recall
The fragile beauty your face once possessed
No large gash dealt, only dying in small
Moments I turned away from your caress
Unwatered, our garden lies bleak and spent
Winter coating the stems where summers went.
5/14/21
two simple words
with such healing power
fragile things
broken
suddenly super-glued
hurt feelings
melt away
a phrase
that sows the seed
of forgiveness
a seed
that sprouts
unwatered
simple, yet...
flips hurt downside up
magical
what sincere contrition does
to the mind and spirit.
liberating...
a soothing balm
doctors the aches
massages away pain
lingering
deep within.
Date written: 02/08/2021
Last summer you stole a bottle of cheap bourbon from the collection your father keeps in the cabinet.
Last summer your throat was smothered by fire when you swallowed six shots in a row, and when the alcohol took over your mind like a tsunami, you pointed at the unwatered forget-me-not plants by the fridge.
You walked closer to them with the bottle of bourbon in hand.
you told me about how everyone in your life forgets about you.
You poured the remainder of the bourbon on the forget-me-not plant hoping they would stop breathing and you said, “They deserve to forget that they were once watered too.”
I hope that night you know you weren't forgotten about.
I remember.
I'll always remember you.
An unwatered seed is simply a dream undreamt
Quench the seed's thirst, and a dream will sprout
Water the soil, lest your dream rots in the dirt
An unwatered seed is simply a dream undreamt
Turn on the garden hose and let the water spurt
Plant and feed your goals, never leave em' in doubt
An unwatered seed is simply a dream undreamt
Quench the seed's thirst, and a dream will sprout
Submitted for...
Strand Select H, Any Theme, Any Form Poetry Contest (Winner: Honorable Mention)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date: 02/09/2020
Date written and posted: 06/23/2018
Pink cotton candy striated clouds
Intermingle with blue
Lure the artist to observe painting
Upon a canvas true
Distant doves sing a summer song
Happy to raise a large brood
Soon they'll be independent
Seeking out their own food
Life goes in circles, birds nesting
In places they were born
Some families never leaving
Hold onto land plant corn
The sun never failing man
Rises each day to warm
Today it rises fire ball red
Warning of impending storm
The canvas is painted a little
Different each day
No two exactly alike
For the earth doesn't stay
The earth's rotation brings change
Near and far to the sun
Slowly changing positions
Keeping life, having fun
Now the sun is golden glowing
Just above the tree tops
Its heat will be scorching too soon
Destroying unwatered crops
Just a few minutes out on the porch
Time for spirit renewal
How it prepares my inner needs
Helps my spirit fights duels
Written: Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Yesterday, time stirrred of reveries when
All of Summer brought colours bright;
My love's longing roamed this place, yet
Troubles whipped our days; in a rush it
Seemed your tenderness withered fast.
So hasty for that promise of evermore,
Far from flames that once led us to new stars
Away from a maze, until noons grew cold.
Now, despair widenened a river made,
It drained petals crowning your hair. But love
Looks at us without a glimpse of eternity
As miles flew by, not one word for a heart yearned.
Though roots are tended where gardens bloom
They're dried by sun's heat, unwatered and frail;
Here where our fingers dug into the sand
To memorize the glory of dew. I asked you to
Stay and wait for birds to name our songs.
Oh, those hours when wings of joy flew
I recall the way your smile rustled with the wind.
Believe me, I'm unable to bequeath this glow
In you I found the luster of dusk, more beaming than
Yesterday, today or even tomorrow, still---
Yesterday's Acrostic Contest
Touch me in the mettled heart of faith tenderly
Hear my prayers rise in praise, and emptied to kneel
Eternal God, before thy grace. What echoes now in me?
Power beseaching with sin blistered tongue for glory
Raft of mercy on angel wings lifted making the story
Atonement gifted merging tension and compassion
Yearning prophetically for historic provisions made
Embrace of grace and faith with love's wide submission
Remembering hope is unwatered flower that does not fade
On a wrinkled trajectory
the blood averts to abstract remission,
I am out of place in time and history.
Try to nudge the jumping ants
with their cyberweapons
ready to strike the antique nectaries
of judgements. The predators were
coming. Killing for long necks and
pinkish lips. You envision a period..
of dearth for visage, for phrases
of dead skins: I start dismembering
the past, contained in future.
This was a total disaster of unknowing,
adrift between the fingers;
sands of time, ungrained, unwatered.
SATISH VERMA
On a wrinkled trajectory
the blood averts to abstract remission,
I am out of place in time and history.
Try to nudge the jumping ants
with their cyberweapons
ready to strike the antique nectaries
of judgements. The predators were
coming. Killing for long necks and
pinkish lips. You envision a period..
of dearth for visage, for phrases
of dead skins: I start dismembering
the past, contained in future.
This was a total disaster of unknowing,
adrift between the fingers;
sands of time, ungrained, unwatered.
SATISH VERMA
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