#poem about flowers

[shadowviixen]

My fondness for flowers grew,

and so did my desire to paint them.

Living in a town scarce of gardens,

I flooded my walls with their vibrant petals.

In a world where they slowly withered,

their beauty remained within me.

In my heart... And with every thought made with a brush stroke.

God forbid a person to rummage my insides,

for all they will see are the blooms of flora that persisted.

❧…

Paintings below are mine♡. Please credit for any form of reuse♡.

[kapicryst]

How gorgeous and elegant it is when flowers bloom

But they soon lose their colour

And their petals fall

And all but death is calling to them

For their beauty is fleeting

Temporary

But beauty is still beauty

When memories of their bloom

Still echoes within us

— When the flowers bloom

[pogbur]

theres something poetic about being young and picking up the little yellow dandelions and calling them flowers. and every single time an adult says no thats a weed. don't give it to me thats not a flower thats a weed. its ugly and its bad because of what we call it. so you stop picking them. you stop putting them behind you ear or tying the stems together. nobody likes weeds anyways, right?

[arson-jellyfish69]

Drew the main 4 with flowers that represent their best qualities

Clark:

Canterbury Bells

Cornflower

Forget-me-not

Kara:

Dessert Rose

Black eyed Susan

Russian sage

Lois:

Dandelion

Iris

Clematis

Jimmy:

Cosmos

Pansy

Lotus

Dahlia

[mckenzieyoungart]

“Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.”

-Mary Elizabeth Frye

[cottaegecore]

mindy nettifee

[z3rovski]

Death is not the end

Death can never be the end

Death is the road

Life is the traveller

The soul is the guide

- Sri Chinmoy

[imfullofworms]

[hersurvival]

I used the last of my pressed,

Dried pansies today on a poem for you -

The first I ever wrote,

The one you didn't know about,

But had secretly given you a line or two

In a note once -

Glued them to the back and placed them

In an organza bag with a polaroid of us.

@nosebleedclub September 19th - The Last of the Flower Garden

[secretsiwhispertothemoon]

[laugtherhyena]

And now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the gray

[sevyyi]

loves me not

a simple want to pick a flower, yet hesitance remains between each finger, intertwined like a crown of daisies. it’s sticky nectar clings to me along with detest,

for desiring.

my left holds a vine of insecurity, thick and heavy, entwined around the fourth and alongside the finger of promises. i swore to never utter the words ‘i do’. though, fated suffering is not easy to subdue.

should i, depict and debrief each petals affections towards me? if the flower loves me?

or loves me not.

the mindless greed, for such a selfish need, as the petals and leaves will only wither and corrupt, under my touch.

yet i still pluck each petal, questioning if the flower loves me, or loves me not.

when left with nothing but a stem and pile of defaced beauty, i realise too late that i had murdered over my need of security.

[coquelicoq]

me after reading four poems by internationally beloved, critically acclaimed, insanely influential 19th-century poet charles baudelaire: wow this guy's emo lol

[sivavakkiyar]

Amiri Baraka

[coffeexxcigarettes]

Grab My Hand

-

Torn from the same cloth,

Suffering in silence.

Where I learned to scream,

You learned the hushed tones.

Where I learned anger,

You learned to swallow it.

Where I am numb,

You are beginning to feel.

Meeting you felt like

Spilling watercolor all over me.

Bleeding hues

I've never experienced.

Fears,

And the way I've always screamed-

But never for somebody,

Never the way I long to,

For you.

You've been strong.

A flower coiled against storms

That would've wiped the land.

Let me shed light

Upon the sins you've sat with,

Let me set the garden on fire.

I'll unearth you with care,

Carry you to safety.

Leaving the thick smoke of once burning flames

That you put out with your laughter,

Like rain.

I know how to fight,

I've fought plenty.

Let me fight for you.

x

[hotteststar]

TRY NOT TO TREAD ON THE FLOWERS

you walk so slowly,

trying not to hurt the grass

you walk so lightly,

careful not to step on the flowerbeds.

you try in every way not to hurt the plants,

not to walk over them, not to harm them,

you move with care and calm,

creating paths in a labyrinth of flowers.

you also take care of the dry ones, avoiding

them with care and attention,

you would never dare to hurt anyone,

even if they can't feel pain.

but you are too careful

not to step on leaves and plants,

that you don't notice that it is you

who is about to be trampled.

from someone else, from somene better,

from someone stronger

from someone taller

from someone with more power than you.

and you wait unaware for your end,

while you still worry about the flowers around

you: before death your last thought

will be for them, not for yourself.

-jo