Like tiny cabbages, they look
a green and leafy fare
and with butter, cooked
steamed with utter care

Ware not the subtle flavor
or pungency of scent
but you must be prepared
as gaseous, their intent

Roughage but a name
for things passing through
to the bowels, it's all the same
just vegetarian-al glue

Spare your loved ones the attack
retire to the loo
after all my friends
there's nothing else to doo

:D Don't forget steamed buttered cabbage!

Contemplating life
over a hot bowl of soup,
my mindful mentor
passed me
the pleasure of oyster
to mix in with
the pain of chilies
stirred together by
chopsticks held in my hands.

There he taught me
the lesson of humanity
and the person's potential,
pointing at me
and then back at the bean sprout,
fiddling it in his chopsticks
as if he were God,
mentioning to me
"This sprout and you have plenty alike..."

"What do you mean?
How am I like a vegetable?"

He smiled and nodded to disagree,
"Life is not always physical.
Think for a second,
open your fragile closed mind.
Imagine this soup not just a bowl
but instead a cauldron,
the mixing of different elements,
sensations seared by heat
to create the luxuries we call
the world where you
are a mere bean sprout."

Looking at the small, colorless
tasteless, inferior plant,
I wondered, confused and asked:
"Am I so inferior in this world
that I cannot compare
to the rich flavor of beef,
to the nurturing noodles,
to the accenting spices,
but instead am no more
than a flavorless root?"

Yet my mentor laughed,
and patiently passed:
"You worry too much young one,
too much on yourself you blame.
Instead, take upon consideration
that the bean sprout is small,
fragile, tasteless like water;
there is nothing you can change
other than size and color,
but lower it into the soup
and patiently stir,
allow it to soak up the world
and obtain its potential."

I repeated his actions,
placed myself in the world,
sat patient and absorbed its essence,
and then removed it,
placed it to my lips.
Surprised that what I later discovered
was not a bland taste of disappointment arose
but instead what lingered to the tongue
was the sweet taste of near perfection.

#poetry   #bean   #soup   #sprouts   #mentoring  

Every step gathers a little more,
giving every life its own lore.

Thoughts sprout and begin to grow,
from a matrix that was built centuries ago.

#life   #nature   #growth   #plant   #sprout  

The shallow breath of loneliness
oppressed the room
trapped like pictures hanging on the wall
a sullen sideboard
carpet sprouting monkey flowers
spider webs, bare table legs
forgotten moments
thoughts unexpressed
the wind screaming to be let in.

kris evans
kris evans
May 11, 2015

in you is a princess....
waiting to be crowned....
in you is wood nymph.....
waiting to sprout....
in you is a mermaid....
waiting to dive....
in you is a lover......
waiting for me....

there is a lot more inside YOU AND ME
#lover   #you   #princess   #mermaid   #dive   #nymph   #sprout   #crowned   #waitong  

There will come a time
When the one who planted you
Will be nowhere to be found.
You'll wonder
Why they'd left you
As such a little sprout.
But then you'll start to realize
That maybe it's your time to
Without someone to water you.

Maybe it's time to rely on the rain.

Goodbye to one of the first few people who believed in my writing! Wherever you may go next, I hope you will water many others, like you did with me.
#goodbye   #grow   #bloom   #sprout  
Tiffany Nelson
Tiffany Nelson
May 3, 2014

I was told my wings would sprout at the right time, when I needed them the most. I keep leaping off balconies and rooftops, hoping that they will spring out of my spine. I have broken bones hoping, but once fractures heal I jump again. Disappointment never felt this good.

#broken   #bones   #wings   #spine   #rooftops   #sprout  
David Montgomery
David Montgomery
May 21, 2015

Given time,
Little seed you will
Sprout through,
Chocolate cake,
Awake to shiver,
Green- Unwind in wind,
Spindle your plume and petals,
And swell with light,
Your green heartbeat,
Unheard by others,
But matching mine,
Every note a symphony,
Every note a chime,
Perfect time,
How my affections you keep,
Sweet one,
You bloom tomorrow,
but tonight you sleep.

© Dm 2015

Today was weird. Felt frustrated and sad. This poem is about birthing new love and dreams.
#dream   #growth   #adoration   #sprout  

grass blades sprout
as August's days are dying fast
grass blades sprout
with a lush greenness so very stout
the sky's generosity repast
bringing robust drops for a cast
grass blades sprout

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