"germinating" poems
You must begin early
while it is cool and your head clear
discernment, a sharpened tine
probing the rocky darkness
for all things latent and destructive.
Be aware that the velvet sage
of the leaves belies their power
to take over every space, remember
roots burrow deep, anchoring in
fissures we don’t even know exist.
You must delve as close
to the origin as possible
or the **** you think eradicated
will bide its time, germinating
in the still secret ground
waiting for light
to penetrate the moist earth
waking the sprout
who voraciously pushes up and out
a curled blemish
in your otherwise carefully tended garden.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 8:56 AM UTC
in the noisy
silence
i sit and dream
of dancing in
the rain, catching
drops as they fall
between my lips
savouring the
silver nourishment of
each
germinating thought
of tranquility
Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 1:27 PM UTC
The first brave buds of spring burst forth
In shades of yellow and green.
They stand sentry at my door
Like fierce mujahedin.
They expel the bear of winter.
They sneer at frightful frost.
I wouldn’t want to be the snowflake
That they chance to come across.
In the seedbed things are stirring,
germinating beneath the sod.
There’s a riotous revolution
that bespeaks the touch of God.
Flowers are like people
They can be kept down just so long.
Then solar warmth will melt the snow
And birds break into song.
The garden trees are setting buds
That soon will dominate the scene.
It is Heaven enough for now
as things bloom and grow and preen.
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 10:43 PM UTC
I inhale
Your Intoxicating fragrance
Pheromones entice
Lingering passion
Sun and sky sweet
I am delirious
Dancing in your
Wakening melodies
Bouquet of pearly-white peaks
I Awake
In your quicksand soil
Scattering seeds
Delicate sea legs
Wobbly wooden stalks
Germinating roots
A newborn flower
Porcelain
Fragile, Fertile foliage
I swallow
Your clear spring geyser
Brisk diamond water
Raining sky water
Relieve my parched
Withering body
Swimming
Stealing grace
Sea of Fertility
I Rejoice
Your Renewing promise
I am breathless
Wild ecstasy
A Cacophony of birdsong
My petals
Gorgeous milk fluff
A canopy of tranquility
In the shape of a heart
Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 6:14 PM UTC
winter covers the earth
in a requited slumber
dropping a bleak veil
of prolonged eventides
a sparse season's
dire landscape
professes a chill
of privation, across
frost crusted furrors
crowning cold fallow fields
resting from offerings
of a past season's yield
reaping passages
to the royal realms
the mystic visions of
this twilight nexus
germinating seeds
burrowed deeply in
recurring reveries
of future harvests
our dreamscapes
of abundance, sustained
in the deepest memory of
the advent of new seasons
Music Selection:
Paul Winter Consort: Icarus
Oakland
12/21/13
jbm
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 2:25 AM UTC
Goodnight anthropocentrism—
Mitochondria swim in your stardust
But Contraverse awakens on the
Frontiers of the Valerian Kingdom
At the gnarled staff of the Oil Sage
Taking root between the Earth’s furrows
Springing forth fountains of sweetest Nard
The Jewel of Jatamansi emerges glistening green
In it the eye of the beholder finds the
Seeds of a once forbidden dream
Germinating in the juices of this Gem
Out of it the silent roar of a thousand fields pressing
Aromatic oceans through bursting buds
Of Lavender pagodas rapturously trumpeting forth
Framed by stacks of soft sweet musky Sage
Broad and leathery like elephant’s ears
Curtained with a soft cascade of Orange blossom snow
The sweet kiss of Neroli on your brow
Imbibing the senses with paralyzing pungency
Tangling tendrils to heartstrings
And pulling us beneath Rosewater pools
Floating breathlessly ensconced in a dream
Primordial songs whispering wordlessly,
“Wake whenever you’re ready . . .”
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
Sometimes there is nothing to do, when all there is to do is wait.
Action would be overt
stepping on toes of brewing events.
When missed connections collide silently, the pieces fit somewhere else they'd rather be
Doing of nothing can seem daunting and wrong
like trying to open cans with toothpicks facing a starving crowd of 5 year olds
but when the recent turn of events has requested a movement
out of the fast lane,
to not comply would be foolish
something is germinating
hard work in the past is ruminating
and manifesting
a future.
The way we've shaped our habitat,
less than an instant seems too long.
It is a curious succession of feelings
when all there is to do is wait -
longing fades first,
to an epiphany of what is attachment
then,
the new years celebration of relinquishment
after,
a rising to the surface from the bottom of a body of water with eyes wide open
hands free of shopping bags or luggage
and a slightly confused sensation of nowhere
not longing
not not longing
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 6:09 AM UTC
trust in the shape of a key,
good god how corny is that?
satisfactorily nonsensical, a Pharisee phrase,
so offal illogical,
it borders on the poetically reprehensible
who has time to state this stuff,
pretend it is worthy of something respectful,
work it into a Nobel Prize awarded script,
nominated for "really bad ****
an ordinary hardware key, brass gleamy,
and the squealing grinding noise
heard while a blank progenitor is reimagined,
so so annoyingly ludicrous in this century
of plastic replicators but the noise,
comfortably familiar as a sound of
things being made
run thumb test over the cuts,
as if your thumb should know
what order the points and bevels,
the toothy gap spaces should be,
the correct disorderly order of the teeth
there are very few locks on a farm;
indeed the front door key
has not
been seen
in many a year
what's that you ask?
ok ok - I get it - in harvest time
it is early to bed and earlier to rise,
conclude this mystery key,
red winter wheat needs laying down,
stop your word seeds germinating
there may be few locks on a farm,
everything rusts so quickly anyway,
but stop to comprehend just how many locks
the human body employs -
at least 613,
maybe many more,
and only one master
for them all
a shiny gleamy thing,
strangely,
its cuts and grooves seem to
spell a word
trust
go figure
1:05am in the city
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 1:18 AM UTC
I tremble from the stare you place becoming listless I'm collapsing
The allure of seemingly immortal eyes
like an ambrosia descendant from grand heavens
A miracle amulet coquette being elysian and unbeknownst
You speak vibrant optimistic
I adore you
A scion from the gods
The solipsism in my dimension
This desire motif mediates
Behind pages eluding my mind
Like a germinating flower blossoming in grounds of my soul creating lovely harmony
Alas
The dreams of her never ends
A sempiternal idea of holding you in eternitys concepts of white pearly beyond semantics
A message inheritly received though my life
Passing improvised dreams during midnight
Your champagne-esque brown eyed woman glissens with light skin strikes me drunken
A beacon in the night
Your my light house over seas
When the dream breathes
Sometimes our hands meet
Then time freezes
As your flesh
More delicate than dandelions
Cleaner than spring water from the gods garden
A voice from jehovahs procreation
Jasmin
the proof of intelligent designs
dazzle me silly beautiful alone in dreams
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
Sunela and panna.
Indian chai with fresh milk,
Fresh feelings.
An Ode to Family
Lulls the cat to sleep,
The rain softly pelting.
Patient puzzles
Paired with white sage,
Kashmir and lemon oil.
Silken chocolate.
Melting into the fire,
A molten me.
Moonlight illuminating
Seedling germinating,
The rain softly pelting.
Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 7:22 AM UTC
America is
America is a fern
and we all cultivate it.
America is germinating
and we can't control it.
America is in terms
that I can come to terms with.
America is a way
with words, America is
what it takes to describe
an urban landscape,
America is a blending of voices,
America is a sophisticated
form of art.
America is a day old
railroad of the new world
where the waters have never
been tested, where our trust
lies in the ones best at
acting their part.
America is what we make
out of a broken home, and
America will be the first to
cast a stone.
America sees us off, with
tears, and roses chosen
for us in a dim lit florist.
America already knows
where to find you,
and that the worst is
behind you,
America is a Grandmother
named Jones.
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 3:50 PM UTC
The air seems to have thickened
Since the casting of Autumn's last curse.
Much thicker this year than any before
It'll be seasons before its safe to breathe again..
In adolescence is where you can find the seed
Germinating the withering Tree of Life within.
Autumn's curse changed these leaves
As the last leaf falls, it will be forgotten.
Shedding that final leaf tends to be the most painful.
She whispered softly to me one night:
"Life through Death is the only way to grow."
Dec 30, 2021
Dec 30, 2021 at 7:04 AM UTC
I had me a botox in the middle of the night
Don't offer me a bed as I can't unlock the light
I am so cold my breath is over the faint might
Don't run back as I can't bear your grey sight
1,2,3,4,5..... I'll climb up this mountain in tights
5,6,7,8,9... I'll shout on and on as my vocals fight
Hide that smile is not bright, germinating blight
On the count of 10, I'll fist your toe, it's my right
This pen is the only weapon I got in my isolation
The words from inside escapes to another location
Introverted but logically attuned in many a motion
I can't face you directly to answer your urgent notion
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 11:20 AM UTC
Now that we are lungs of our own,
no longer governed by each other
or good-humored light,
angled to make us beautiful;
I leave, tightly grappled within,
as if still in genuflect
still spinning
inside our billowing confessions,
two bodies conquered by cool
curious, cunning damnation...
A friend,
in her venues of Valentines,
a countess of stones thrown
proffers me the hangman's colloquial
"You still feel him...?"
nodding, I recall
the contours & colors of love's collision
*"You just keep feeling it,
however much you wish it stop.
Feel it--feel it all,
there's no prompt drug
to make it go away..."*
She coddles my sloth of shoulders
with ginger wisdom of grandmothers.
Nodding, I give in
to the germinating futility...
I still remember him
blowing out the candles
at our small table
with our unfinished meal;
how we thatched anger-strangled hearts
with saffron sauces of exasperation...
each etching kiss
close to a divine cure,
each curve of our crude pose
close-captioned
for the appetite-impaired...
Each saline scurrying tear,
each lonely-wilderness of day,
I force a sort of Nut-cracker's strength
not to feel
that barrel-hollow loss
that gallery of Use-To-Be's
and my friend,
in her Carmen wisdom,
is surgeon savant
stitches me up,
I am less in swarms of his tangibility;
I breathe less of his fetch
flooding
I am slowly becoming
just a single prefix,
my own word and crutch
no matter how often I recall
the music of his touch
or all the colors
we felt so much...
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 8:51 PM UTC
If I was asked to write a story
I will write about hope
For the little she child
Germinating like weeds in the streets.
Pivoting a tray on frail neck.
Hawking fruits while books lay dormant.
Look at Her!
Lemons sprouts abruptly:
Buns smeared with oils of lust.
The she child: An object of **********
Forced out of secure fences
By the fierce fire of hunger and starvation.
Mummy told her not to talk to strangers
But to strangers she must sell
Out of sight and out of cover
She was pounced on and devoured!
Another maiden is bleeding red tears.
A child becomes a mother!
Even if I had a mandate to write
On clean placards for all to see In white.
I wont waste my ink and sheets
For this generation does not read nor see.
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
Underneath this thick layer of trust,
There's an emerging lily of doubtness.
Underneath this thick layer of promises made,
There's hope, germinating.
Underneath this thick blanket of snow,
We're blooming flowers.
As it melt,
We start seeing eye to eye.
And decided
To walk away.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 5:42 AM UTC
I am a microscopic particle of matter
In this monstrous planet we call Earth
People are sprinkled like seeds of a tree
Forever spreading like a disease
We must fix this predicament
That we have put forth
The Fragility of Life itself is at stake
We must mend this affliction
Make this future ours too take
For this problem is far too great
It is of heartbreak that for some we are far too late
For this massive genocide of young lives
This self destruction is all to real
For just one word has capacity to seal the deal
So keep your judgment and ignorance
Unlock your mind
Open your heart with something so kind
I am a microscopic Particle of matter
But if we all sprinkle these uncontaminated germinating seeds
A soul can be spared
Because of a difference that we have all dared
We can be revealed that we indeed cared
With this young life that has been saved
With the help of one another
Their life has been paved
With just a small gesture
From one small particle onto another
Passing the cure from one to the other
And maybe this world is still safe
Still safe from the extreme utter fall
From such was very a close call
From such eerie destruction was feared by all
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
|||||||||||||||||
Your wall cast a flowing
tide shadow on our side
of the mutual morning
It grew and grew then
ebbed backwards the
direction it came from
Scaling the masonry,
returning, propagating,
germinating, a nightfall.
May 8, 2022
May 8, 2022 at 2:54 AM UTC
The breath stealing beauty
Beholds existence in a single tear
Shaped droplet of water
Germinating and eroding time
The flowering bud versus the budding flower
The entanglement of enchantment
Met with such exuberance
That it becomes second nature
Force yourself to open eyes and ears
Hear the poet's tongue
Reflect upon every painstakingly chosen syllable
As it flows like the Rio Grande
Telling ancient stories of incredible minds
We are nothing but betrothed to the stars
Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 6:26 AM UTC
Alluring me with your looks
Beckoning with your eyes
Changing my mind in a second
Dedicating your song
Enduring your love for me
Fascinating me in a way
Germinating in my heart
Habituating me for you
Illustrating your heart of love
Jauntily exposing for me
Keenly trying to make me a
Laburnum flower of yellow
Meandering around me with
Never ending love and lust
Oscillating me in your arms
Proposing with red roses
Quieting my heart beat
Releasing me giving oxygen
Slowly making me yours
Treating me like an angel
Ultimately surrendering
Victoriously claimed your love
Watching me falling for you
Xanthic flowers grow in me
Yaffingale bird making green
Zealously engaging me in you !
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 1:38 AM UTC
amidst cavorting delightfully, enjoying thorough
frolicking gingerly, foreign hick hating slo
hip-hopping insouciantly sustaining row
biological status quo
kvetching lamely moreso mother became pro
naturally physically rumbling,
heard all the way in Oslo
supposedly twerking, undulating vivaciously
wantonly x2c wisely yielded – nada no
zona pellucida anchored byte size ******
potent embryonic fetal moe
newlweds nocturnal merriment
moma's ****** marked march 1959
lovingly joyusly, insemination happened ha low
bullseye clenched diploid fertilization
guaranteed germinating heiress
while squaqking lichen Apache at Diablo
ma late mother did should know
upon awakening upon tautly stretched exertion
during dilating ****** which jiggled like jello
three score orbitz round el sol, warmed cockles
and muscled away brutally cold degrees
tab billed an igloo,
or circa six decades
drafted exuberant ho...ho...ho...
cuz, i.e. thencee at 362nd day
baby in belly did fully grow
December first nineteen fifty seven
sanctioned newly minted papa
to sing a capella for he's a jolly good fellow
quintessential nascent
kickstarter heady everflow
though wintry dark,
a “hi” beam illuminated
newborn girl with dayglow
sans, mechanical engine ear
papa (an honorably discharged army vet)
all spit and shine groom,
who wed a bride somewhat callow
first time parents with giddiness did saul fully bellow
Boyce and Harriet Harriet countenance
twas (like an elf on Christmas eve) all aglow.
--------------------------------------------------------
Dear Sis – I knew not what else to do
thus, this poem crafted fur ewe
a doe ting maternal gal – whose time on Earth flew
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 1:09 AM UTC
( Sonnet )
We walked along the grainy ocean,
Our way, smooth as a path to nowhere
And through a dance of reeds your hair,
Steeped with marshes of wings and air,
Red, mellow as fire from the fallen sun,
Your flowered dress was the first spring
Ever germinating and blue crystal waters
Sprung, of coastal pools, Knockanare wells
And I was flung, as a windy clutch of seeds
Dreaming, your voice, bloomy, song wafted,
Rousing, as remembrance in fragrances —
And the moony, blinking stars soon peopled
Our woe-less eyes, full of sleep and vision
And all the stones held us deep as sarsen.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC
Fear is only a swarm of butterflies
resting inside your lungs secretly,
fluttering, every time you breathe,
impeding the smooth passage of air
provoking fake illusions of fright.
Sooner than you,
your body becomes their much sought adventure
and when they take a flight down to your stomach,
set idioms come to life - " i feel butterfly in my stomach"
making you feeling anxious or anticipate nervously "what's next?"
Little did you know,
you could pull them back to your lungs
and push them out with your determined breathing
only to see a rainbow erupting from lips,
not falling back in semicircles , but
rising sharp till the horizon,
breaking myths of conventional fears
and germinating new ideas of observing life.
Just- take the charge.
-Pallavi Goswami
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 3:37 AM UTC
Once, I knew
a woman so
utterly lovely
in spirit
that her laughter
invoked images
of seeds germinating,
of buds bursting,
of flowers blooming.
That was years ago,
but whenever
I encounter a freshly
opened blossom,
I still see
those sounds.
- mce
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 6:45 AM UTC