"germination" poems
I am lost in my own germination.
I miss the innocence of adolescence,
I miss the days of being a seed.
Nostalgia stemming from maltreatment,
roots of disdain running deeper and deeper
as they absorb the negativity of my surroundings.
The sadistic nature of being
has instilled terror in my heart, a terror of the future—
for I’m not ready for my contempt of existence to flower.
I preferred being a seed.
As I blossom, I grow consumed by feelings of self-doubt,
tears falling, like petals in the springtime,
Will I survive the winter?
I preferred being a seed.
The strong winds of life rip me up by the roots.
I am slowly wilting and withering away as days pass,
unaware of when I will be trampled underfoot.
I remember the days of being a seed.
For remaining a seed would have been easier
than blossoming in a world slowly and aggressively plucking my petals.
I am nearly barren.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 11:01 AM UTC
*plant a seed
embryonic beauty
a seed with heart
sown with compassion
a seed with promise
born on winds of change
a seed with substance
rooted in the soil of foundation
a seed with the flow of life
thirsty for the waters of acceptance
a seed with boundless vision
reaching for synthesizing illumination
allow the energy of expansion and transformation
allow that seed to germinate and pollinate the garden of existence*
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
1480
The fascinating chill that music leaves
Is Earth’s corroboration
Of Ecstasy’s impediment—
’Tis Rapture’s germination
In timid and tumultuous soil
A fine—estranging creature—
To something upper wooing us
But not to our Creator—
4.7k
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
Needle in the hay stack
The spin of the weather vane
I took a drink of you
And felt heavy to the touch
With my last bit of strength
I split the seed coat
Topsoil coaxing me
*Come here, young one
Come here*
Blue
The first color I have ever known
In awe I watch as birds fly over
Like painted die-cast wind-up toys
The warmth fills me to the brim
Free among unbroken hills
Neither late nor early
But still
On time with the cosmic dance of fire color rain
Earthquake Heartache Lust and pitty
I took a drink of you and blooms sprout from my chest cavity
Sunlight flooding protons upon the hillside
Into my eyes smiling
*A nap on the grass until half-past two
As if I don't have work to do
Important things come and go
They melt away as winter snow
Drink you deeply from life's river
Not even death can make it bitter
**** Erectus
In three piece suit
Dead in a box
Maggot food
A veritable
Carrion drive thru
Just as fate would have it
Do you need
Some
Ketchup packets?*
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
Years of my tears dry to stale grit
Rusting my skin with crusting corrosions
of Yesterday's emotions frustrations devotions
With time, composting into a dirt coating
Renourishing layers of decomposition
Green seeds in germination with anticipation
Sprouting fresh roots of deeper perception
A Glowing. Growing. Living. New Me.
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 8:37 PM UTC
Profound profanity, he says, is the key to germination.
But why, I say, would one ever want to procreate?
For the experience, he says, which is about the journey and not the destination.
I can understand this,
it's like riding a bike
a stationary bike
that goes nowhere but see, you're going! Going and going.
I do see
and so does he
so what do we do?
Not a whole lot, just sit and talk of trains and temperature and how pirates walk.
He likes to do litmus tests of our saliva and hang them in the windows for all to see
that we are not acidic, but on acid, and sometimes a bit base in nature,
like the trees and the crysanthimums and corinthian columns in Greece.
We traveled to Greece, once, on our stationary bike
it was beautiful and real and there was much salt in the air-
they grow olives and fish in the trees
and their water is just teeming with rust.
We put our rust on buttered toast like cinnamon and munched at the oxidized metal,
crunching like captains and cheesin like goats
just a random bunch of fools with our silver and tenticals and suction cups of steel.
We are like robots, fighting crime and boredom with music and shrugs
because frankly my dear we don't give a ram or an aries or any other kind of anything.
We simply do not
because we will not, and refuse, above all else, to sleep without a star in the sky.
May 18, 2012
May 18, 2012 at 7:28 PM UTC
How did we ever confuse the birds with the bushes
We’ve kept the birds wings clipped
And the bushes are running rampant
Yet we still wonder why we can’t understand anything
Like how gravestones roll off your tongue
Why the matches fall from your fingertips
And how your name has always reminded me of the gallows
The monsters under our beds have voices like shattering glass
And I know it makes it so hard to sleep sometimes
You told me to keep all my skeletons in the closet
Because I shouldn’t want anyone to read the signs that hang around their necks
I know to never look at them unless I want to see everything I ever died trying to find
And when I wake up in the middle of the night
With the tremors haunting me like a car crash
I always think I’m back in that hospital bed
And I’m sorry that I cannot control what escapes from my lips in that moment
I swear to God I’m not afraid of the dark I just don’t know what I’m fighting anymore
Entangled in the bushes that we left to grow unchecked
While the birds without wings watch me struggle with what I’ve made
Strange how its so hard to breathe without the sun
~W.C.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 12:46 AM UTC
Corruption- please go away with your notion
Our mission is to make us a no bribe nation
So far, you made our life miserable and full of suffocation
-Corruption-
have you ever seen our determination?
Now, we are in full of action
And Throw you out with our inner-transformation
-Corruption- Don't dare to enter into our nation
With our good value system and education
We are sure, can stop corruption
Encouragement of Currency-free banking and cashless transaction
Can you dare to come to our imagination?
With vibrant leaders and Vigilance Commission
People have speedy justice and much satisfaction
Corruption, it is our war against your creation
With Community Participation
And having the "Right to Information"
There is fair chance of weeding out the corruption
Again, guard with digitization and automation
Make you dead before germination
With Honesty, truthfulness and against temptations
Certainly, together, make Nigeria a corruption free nation
Sarcasm
The fragrance pen
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC
wandering
across
the splinters of
squandered
seasons
the Hajj
of the
lost ones
completes
a broken
circle
returning
with hope to
burrow back
into the safety
of desecrated
graveyards
welcomed
home to the
embrace of a
cadaverous cloak
and the kiss
of carrion
smudged lips,
Hajji's eye
the decrepit
visage of
criminal
depravity
germination
of this
Arab Spring
mocks us
aromas
of jasmine
elude us
emulsified
concrete
clogs our
nostrils
burning eyes
filled with
asbestos dust
form
grateful
blinders
to the
ruination
of reason
betrayed
arcane
remnants
of our life
lay inert
in the open
****** of
fractured
habitations
amidst
jumbled rubble
the decaying
carcasses of
razed buildings
boast grotesque
sculptures of
twisted rebar
cradling artifacts
of a past life
pink
hair curlers
splashed
with sickly
blood grown
mold
scavenged
bicycles
limp on
banished
parts
smashed
skulls of
dolls weep,
her
dismembered
limb reaches
for a lost child’s
nursing
hand
the charred
remains of a
Persian rug
maps the
scale
of a city’s
deconstruction
and a frayed
regions
disconsolation
electric luxury
flowing water
the friendly bustle
of the street
bespeak
expired memories
foretelling an
unimaginal future
sectarian strife
enforces a communal
solitary confinement
in cold blood
we willingly
murdered
compassion
we
butchered
trust
we
euthanized
our
common
humanity
constructing
buildings is
easy
rebuilding
ourselves
impossible
Music Selection:
Segovia, Capricho Arabe
Oakland
5/13/14
jbm
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC
roasting asphalt oven
sweat and petroleum pungent
a festival in the truest sense
diversity beyond societal bland
tolerance arches over rainbow
colored heads banging to the beat
the great goddess smiles as we dance
she knows true love when she sees it
sing to the dying sun
draping white shoulders afire
above lahar fields green again
successions of ash and germination
evidence of universal rotation
barren to blessed
sway to the eternal rhythm
bass heartbeat in our chests
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
Corruption- please go away with your notion
Our mission is to make us a no bribe nation
So far, you made our life miserable and full of suffocation
-Corruption-
have you ever seen our determination?
Now, we are in full of action
And Throw you out with our inner-transformation
-Corruption- Don't dare to enter into our nation
With our good value system and education
We are sure, can stop corruption
Encouragement of Currency-free banking and cashless transaction
Can you dare to come to our imagination?
With vibrant leaders and Vigilance Commission
People have speedy justice and much satisfaction
Corruption, it is our war against your creation
With Community Participation
And having the "Right to Information"
There is fair chance of weeding out the corruption
Again, guard with digitization and automation
Make you dead before germination
With Honesty, truthfulness and against temptations
Certainly, together, make Nigeria a corruption free nation
Sarcasm
The fragrance pen
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
I long for what I’ve never known: a word
that captures the foreign feels of speech surging
from my throat, the ways they shake and crack with
fury and failure as I break away
from the safety of silence, in jagged
and fragmented sentences–I’m desperate
to seize meaning, trying words like puzzle
pieces, I’ll force them to fit together
to form the spaces of pieces missing.
My greatest fear is to be incomplete.
And I’m constantly reminded of this
over coffee-talk and shared politics
as I recoil shyly in forced defense
of each vowel, and every consonant
and the myriad of their constructions:
they are stuck behind my eyes. I am left
apologizing for my vagueness and
for the grey shades of embarrassment and
finite language–when a dictionary
is never a long enough read for the
lone, longer walk around the circumference
of my head–or any red eye flight I have
ever caught that takes me from thought to thought:
the moving belts of baggage claim don’t
have to tell me of the luggage I lost.
As possessions were plucked from circuitry
I clung to the emptiness as if it
was mine and took it home as leverage.
I write in circles ’til I’m motion sick.
I write myself into thought-asylums
where silence is another language:
a slow germination of roots lacing
down the bell-curve of my spine.
A foreign tongue, An othered alphabet.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 4:58 AM UTC
The winter can not destroy the miraculous invincible seeds.
The germination changes them in the earth's maternity.
It is a new life running time , the snow irreversible recedes,
And a new spring embraces the magical fertility.
When the deep seeds germinate, they always throw out a few anchor roots.
Those splintered cracks of deep roots trying to hide inside the soils.
The tall trees need deep roots and long branches to bloom and to bear sweet fruits,
The land receives , nurtures the life it essentially contains.
When the great divine spark leaps from the divine hand to the human hand,
Making the human roots so deep as they face the stormy time,
Moreover, taking an ultimate shape in the law of the green land,
While life becomes a moonlight sonata,life which is sublime.
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 7:21 AM UTC
you give me waaay too much credit;
u are investment; a great poet,
needing tending and nurture,
watering and encouragement;
since god could not be everywhere,
he made sure many poets exist
to tend
to their fellow's seeds
~~
the problem with seeds
they don't come with a guarantee
from the manufacturee,
or a note from home
for the teacher,
that makes ''my dog et it''
slightly more believable,
each a new babe seedy needy,
crying in the mid of night,
for water and loving attention
as it teethes roots in the soil,
and
the discourteously majority
fail to appear even if you read them
good night moon, nightly
you must plant ten,
hoping one child,
will sprite sprout
and even then,
survive the outrageous misfortunes of natures
bumps and beaks of the day and night
that lurk about in a
disarmingly charmingly
destructive way
did i say ten?
idiot.
plant a hundred
just to obtain one germination.
I think the seed guys have
conned us pretty good
the odds
truly ****
as you, the champion children
like to say nowadays,
and **** they are,
too right
sun I cannot control:
water and soil, I can,
for if n'ere to rain,
your seeds will be
well fed,
well read,
and the water,
my eyes will supply
naturally
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 12:53 PM UTC
Please,
when you’re planting yourself in someone’s heart, make sure that there is enough sun to begin with, before you start.
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 9:09 AM UTC
i the wild seed blew in my youth
floating on the comfort of any wind
that would carry me high for a broader view
and a little closer to answers of truth.
no direction is sometimes a beautiful thing
responsible for what only concerns you
not landing long enough in soft sweet earth
to put down roots that always longed to grow.
i had dreams of a constant love to put seed into
but the high winds blowing outside roared like the sea
enticing me to be carried on the easy breeze
but the easy way is often a cold hard rain.
the wild seed was called by the high winds
blowing inside warming me with wanderlust
caught between two lovers was never a hard choice
because the high wind was my first love.
i blew thousands of miles and light years away
landed in the soft sweet earth of a girl
a childhood sweetheart often remembered
partly the reason I blew in that direction.
the seed lingered too long in one place
the roots got a foothold in the soft sweet earth
the high winds tried to pull up the roots
causing pain in me and the soft sweet earth.
the germination of the seed caused more pain
seed to maturity isn't the easy way
each stage causing new dimensions of pain
though pain can also be the sweetness of love.
through decades and millions of light years
I have grown in that soft sweet earth
two more seeds and deeper love stemmed from it
as I ignored the tempting lure of the high winds.
but I still listen as the high winds call
sharing this pain with the ones I love
waiting to one day fly high as I once did
though it could never be the same as before.
she too was a wild seed flirting with higher winds
now waiting with me to one day fly again
as we watch our children sail in their high winds
both of us feeling the roots being pulled
and the winds starting to lift us to blow concordantly
in a higher wind than either of us have ever known.
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC
Stinking Thieves and Degenerates thus proudly declared
We will drive you paranoid, give you ******* brain cancer
We will put hot things in your head, head lice they blared
We will plant dissenting seeds in your mind by our passers
Chatter and natter with toxic germination brain furrowed
With poisons, fears and doubts we'll polluted your mind
We are the majority and we'll recruit followers in numbers
Build a pyramid of lies and hassles to hound and down grind
One tell ten and onwards, chinese whispers makes you to wonder
Peck like vultures at your life with harassments that's unkind
In our putrid pond, caves and gutters a Grass is what you are
Goody shiny two shoes who stays aloof thinks he's better than us
Whistle clean, no crime or stains, how pompous, how you dare
Evil and destruction is our wont, purity is anathema go you suss
We'll sling mud, blacken you, weaken you and lay you bare
Go call your Jesus to save you, see if he dares tussle with the pack
The ******* cemetery is full of Saints who we've offered free rides
Showed them the Hell we make for good people before we wack
We'll get in your head and mind and trounce your soul with hide
We are knaves, criminals and reprobates and we have the knack
Yes, we burgled and stole from you, that's our trade, what we do
We are criminals not ******* Mother Teresa saving the poor
You work hard to acquire, we work hard to acquire, isn't it so
Then you chose to grass us up, ruin our trade and shut our doors
see what happens to upright and legit, jobless, lonely and broken too.
Hahaha....hahaha.....hahaha.....next!
Brother watch out, it could be you..............
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 6:32 AM UTC
When you entered into my barren life‘
My heart felt happy with your illumination
A chapter of new beginning was written
And new chapter was meant for rumination
Seeds of relationship we sowed yesterday
Now seem to be curious for germination
All evil thoughts destroying our sweet world
Are now apprehensive of their termination
To make this affinity more stable and strong
Our mutual understanding was very crucial
God from the heaven showered its blessings
And witnessed that our love was fiduciary
To make buds of our fervent desires bloom
Trusted each other with great dedication
Mutual understanding for unending bonding
We realized was the best and emphatic medication
Glowing in the dark is the attitude of true love
That poured into us enthusiasm and elation
And our ardent and per fervid commitments
Let the wings of our mission fly for dulation
Strong waves of wind taught us a lesson
Our desires and dreams we have to cherish
And gave us a magic spell of true relationship
Evil thoughts from our path we have to perish
I wish that every moment of my love is for you
Because you are the only shining star of my life
Always keep spreading your affection on me
Now I am your only partner and your only wife
Never leave me alone in the deep wood
To wander and cry for my caring soul mate
Will keep all promises that I made with you
You are my heart and you are my playmate
(By Kishan Negi)
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 4:10 AM UTC
Like nature I do not want to be dependent on you.
I want to be one with myself.
I want to grow and evolve.
Like the tiniest seeds, I want to be carried away by the wind, the rain or the animals.
I want to find myself in the soil as it protects me from ****** birds and excited worms.
I want to sprout out from the soil, experience the sun,
Embrace the wind,
Harbor the cold
And face pure germination.
As they say germination can be thought of as anything expanding into greater being from a small existence or germ.
Like nature I do not wish to be dependent on you.
Regardless of the love you do not give me,
I will extend my roots and find it within me.
Because you might think I need you, but the truth is I don't.
I have learned to evolve just like nature
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
Desire or duty,
Love or lust,
Head or heart,
Want or necessity.
Over and over
i'm filled with emotion.
Unconditional coalition.
Brittle decision.
Feeling fusioned in a long-lived germination.
Certainty prevails, no hesistation.
On you, before men, i will make my jactation.
Your love shields me from labefaction.
Asunder, a mere machination.
Generations to come
tell our story
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 5:30 PM UTC
Wild morning glory
Ties the world in knots
Pigweed or Aramanth
Appears in late Spring.
A **** simply
a plant,
A long term survivor
A carrier of germination.
Dandelion and Burdock.
Marshmallow and nettle,
Purslane, clover and Mellow.
Eating weeds,why not!
Love Mary ***
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 7:23 AM UTC
if the cloud
exits from the stage absurdly leaving the confusion--?
if the seed
shrivels in the green-room like a meaningless season--?
if no celebration of germination? it is painful -- so, painful
if -- existence of no dialogues, no emotions, no encounters
no colour scheme, no tantalizing episodes, no appeasing music?
the sky and the soil as the actor and spectator
if no purification of souls after annihilating each other--?
if no event of rejuvenation? it is painful -- so, painful
the stage of disdain -- only the disdain
that is the tragedy -- that is the sin !!!
you and i
like the eye and eye-lid
if not brawling and embracing
how the world be a scenic charm ?
you and i
like the cloud and seed
if not flowing like the rivulets in veins
if not raging like the life in grains
how could you and i
split into million future dreams ?
you and i
be the rain of some memories
be the offering of some poems
before planting our mortal frames...
if not----
that is the tragedy .. that is the only tragedy
if you and i cannot offer ourselves to germination----
that is the tragedy ... that is the sin...... !!!
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
Unique unto itself
Reposed upon Mother Earth
A seed awaits the life giving rain
A drop, it too, unique
Tumbles from the sky
Lands upon the seed
Now secured within Mother Earth's womb
Germination begins
The maternal warmth of the soil
Caressing, rhythmic breezes
Nourishing rainfall
Lift the seed
Upward towards the light
Crowning, breaking the protective soil
This seed
Has become a flower which will soon blossom
This flower
Grows taller
Stronger
And more beautiful each day
Basking in the warmth of the sun
Loving the sunny days
Yet strong enough to stand the rain
And even the most devastating storms
This flower begins to bloom
Radiating a heavenly glow
A glow that touches all who see
Her petals, tender and beautiful
Yet strong and resilient
Give strength to the other flowers
Enriching and strengthening this earthly flower bed
We know, as Planet Earth
(c) 2014 Shawn White Eagle
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
I am eventually expected, Cummings
I am the transformation of Butterfly
I am the germination of Tree
I am realizing my Self, eventually
Through pathways of Consciousness
the atmosphere of all things Running
Birds and Bees Lakes and Trees
Humming
eventually everything's Coming
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 7:16 AM UTC