Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Anastasia May 13
A little boy of shadow
Sitting in carnations
Terrified
Of God’s creations.
A little boy,
Lost and to never be found
Never knew
The voices could be so loud.
The voices that say
“If you stood, the world could be ours.”
But he prefers wishing on stars.
Because his legs are beaten and bruised
And he cannot walk.
But he wishes for someone to help him stand.
And doesn’t make him talk
About the things he wants to say
The things he wants to keep away
For someone who will always stay.
an old poem from last year, that i really love.
H E L E N A Dec 2018
The moon dusts off the rust,
Begonias woebegone,
Withering wisterias forlorn.

And in the morning,
A flower of mourning.

A blossom, a *****,
Baby's breath
In a smug golden wreath

Left bright yellow carnations
Of shifting grey hues,

Hard-to-pinpoint
Variations;
There might have been some blues.
YELLOW CARNATIONS: disappointment, regret
BLUE CARNATIONS/MOONDUST: a rarity, mystery, fickle, truth
I clash into my fabric,
Like it's the waters of a bath.
Behold the ripples from my fingers,
Before I walked upon their path.
Pills are skipping stones,
That land at unsteady feet.
I'm falling, or I'm drowning,
Sleeping with torture underneath.
With Carnations at the bedside,
The yellow won't change my hue.
For their inexplicit meanings,
Are wrapped in dripping blue.
And the taps rung through my head,
Were the bath; now forming puddles.
You asked how I had left,
But you didn't notice the bubbles
---------------------------------------------------
This poem is about how people don't notice when others are hurt. They could feel like they're drowning, struggling to breathe, even if they're in bed, doing nothing.
(Btw yallow carnations symbolize disappointment; rejection, just if it's confusing)
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!!:):)
©2018
Salmabanu Hatim Jun 2018
Kind,gentle,humble,my dear daughter,
To me you are my carnation flowers.
Which sprang from ****** Mary's
tears,
For Jesus's plight of carrying the Cross. (Christian Legend).
Pious,a fairy, an angel,
Sent from the heavens up above,
The flowers of God.
Affectionate, motherly,loveable,
White and pink carnations,
Mother's Day flowers.
Strong, active and wise,
Long lasting after being cut,
Carnation blooms.
A treasure I cherish,
A perfect piece of my heart.
For my daughter whom I miss
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
It will always be you JB
Kevin J Taylor Feb 2016
Sunflowers! Crowns golden!
Violets! Sweet petals, blue!
Carnations! Pinks! Whites!
         —And my Love for You!

Dahlias! Such beauty!
Tulips! Who knew!
Orchids! Red roses!
         —And my Love for You!
.
J Harris Jun 2015
The soil recognizes
the vibration of your
soft soul and soft soles
when you walk around
the garden's edge.

Grounds from every corner
of the world hasten
to be underneath your feet.

Twenty dignified, upright,
and humble footsteps
from the lilies
to carnations

and much of the earth
is covered.
Johnny Huynh Jun 2015
Cheesy carnations
Her delicate dimples dream
She blushed, and said yes.
William A Poppen May 2015
There is just enough morning sunlight
filtering through the english laurel
for aging eyes to capture the purple tint
of carnations blooming
in the front of the rocks
jutting toward the porch

Night-time had been colorless
in the midst of a celebration
announced by a sign signaling
an event in the main ballroom

With a loud voice
a long-named minister
toyed with religion
and flirted with comedy
before the silverware
clanged against the china

Boredom captured the moment
in the middle of the clatter and chatter
Even stunning silks and satins
around bodacious behinds
failed to entertain

Now perhaps the oldest in the crowd
he carefully quenches each desire
to know the delicacies of the evening
with the efforts of survival.  He was slowly
dying in the madness of the crowd
My wife commented on this poem with "Obviously you didn't have a good time."

— The End —