Apples Poems

Raining with unseen apples That the many Eves will feed The many other Adams with… Fertile rain for so many revivals Of wonderful heavens, Haunted, still, by the snake Of the same end… Shut up and listen As apples fall

You can learn a lot about a person watching them eat an apple even watching them in the supermarket give them a five dollar bill and tell them pick out any apple you want, it’s on me those store aisles

Please allow me to introduce myself simply as The Apple Tree supposedly in the Garden of Eden. I do not know why, but for the longest time, it has been assumed that I was in the Garden of Eden. I’ve

I travelled back a mile by the canal in sunshine, sky so fresh that early hour was nourishment and I gulped-down the air. Those path-side plants are nearly at their full, I watched a bristling, bulbous stem unroll, blue dragonflies,

The tree of apple symbolizes; The Adam and beautiful Eve. The tree of orange symbolizes; A true sign, a temptation. The tree of life symbolizes; Immortality, the eternity. The tree of love symbolizes; A Passion, a Salvation. The tree of

People are like apples picked from a tree, The beautiful ones with no imperfections are picked first, but that makes them bitter and unripe. The bruised and dented are picked last, but that makes them sweet and delicious. But beauty

Inspired by my interests, I have thought about my fault and strife. Faults that I would not, until I gave in, take seriously and strives that I fell in but gave in to my own deeds. I tried both compassion

On a day icy-cold, snowy and serene Glancing through the window ebony-framed Stitched a silk scarf a genial queen Prickled when she her slim flat finger Three blood drops fell upon her sewing Gave she birth to a girl ”Snow

Will you celebrate in heaven? Have all your birthdays been and gone? Are you 35 forever? Acting like you’re twenty one! Will Granny give you apples? And Taid build you fort? Will you have a pint with Gavin? Dutch beer,

It was both a complicated and a simpler place and time A very noisy and sometimes uncivil place, but very little crime A place though legally dry, yet filled with moonshine and wine Where peace and freedom were purchased by

Once you witnessed smiles on lovers, heard laughter, the running of feet up and down your sturdy boards. Fisherman cast an anxious rod over your side in anticipation of the beautiful bounty that swam in your shadow. Music from ferris

And there I sat at the table without a thing to eat. We often take the sweetest and most precious things life has to offer for granted. The thought persisted. Of all things I decided to bake a pie. All things

In the beginning of time We sought out a rhyme that would make things begin to shine Each of us has been given a real talent to discover We all must look within deep inside Love is a funny thing

You are peeling me off like a crab. Time has sunk very low. For the hungry kids who was growing crab apples? Creating art, arriving between the pubes. A microfossil roosting within me. I could live without oxygen. Incandescent, the

Our fondest memories sweeten my dreams Like buns, jellies and cakes a child adores, Like pastries, too, that know no other creams, The name remembered most and called is yours; I plan to make confection of a sort, Your smiles

O; happy folk, poetry is the fingers of light, descending at evening like an old farmer with eyes cut from azure. It told me that the sun has two long braids, and goes out at dawn to her grandfather’s flourishing

From the lakes in New Hampshire to the sand dunes of Cape Cod. From the mountains of Vermont to the seaports of Rhode Island. From the rocky seacoast of Maine to the Gold Coast of Connecticut. Winters of snow and

Immenseness of the contrast – from blue eyes to red apples, (we must stop apple picking!) from smashed leg to a stone wall – squanders the soft toys of time. A peach colored queen lies in state from centuries to

I am Lucifer the Prince of daemons which I command like a bunch of minions, for with them I annex realms and subjects who are no more than heavenly rejects, distinct from Saints; the apples of God’s eye. In Eden’s

(1) The door; out of it there is everything; Flags and noise, traffic policemen, temptation apples, toothy eyes, ears calculating breath bangs, tinny moon counting steps, cheeks flowering with love ready to pass to oblivion, flattering choruses, cola tans, gay

Feels cool to be a 21st century haiku. Not bothered with others’ frowns, scoffs and sneers. Only concerned with widening some unseen folded petals of their hearts, lips and thighs. Softening their flowing molecules of love, making them feel their

It’s time now for me to go No more will I see falling snow The Daffodils that decorated the banks And now distance memories for a longing son Saffron and Apples, their fragrance I smell From a scent that once

The Door// By: Fareed Ghanem **** (1) The door; outside there is everything; flags and noise, traffic policemen, temptation apples, toothy eyes, ears calculating breath-bangs, tinny moon counting steps, cheeks which flower with love, ready to pass to oblivion, flattering

Our innocent years and times gone by I remember too well when I was a child. Eating ice cream and playing hide and seek climbing trees and scuffed knees. Apple pie my gran would bake, Toffee apples and strawberry cake.

She is the first and last woman; Her hair is one thousand color waterfalls, nature briefed in her two almond eyes, her eyebrows two gardens riding on astonishment whispers, her cheeks two apples rolling down from Paradise always fleeing away

The Giant Banyan Tree in the country-side, Bunches of thick ropes hanging downward, Full of dark green leaves.Bats hanging from, Its branches with open wings.This ancient Banyan Tree has seen many ups and downs. Our grandmother’s village is calm and

Speech is silver but silence is gold, But I prefer to speak as I am bold, I am fed-up of lies, can’t speak any more, Where is the truth that I may adore? I want to speak the truth, I

When insects were crawling dreams had contradictions, a sudden drop in temperature brought the quantum touch. Ending of the grief or grief of ending rejected every intact truth and death was trailing behind the candle. Fear and agony were following

Gazing through the swirling fog; the cloying mists of time, hoping to see the ones I love, before the clock’s cold chime. Beyond the final curtain; the call of a tolling bell, what destiny awaits me as shadows fall over

Timeless, the eyes and fractured wisdom, the two of us, extremely prudent, suffering the dislocation of vigilance against wrinkled sin, I am on my own today disconnected to the unearthly rehearsal of breaking the cycle of carbon assimilation in the

My last night with her Sunflowers stalk. Let them watch, remember, and blazon this onto their petals Time decays my memory Last summer gets harder to remember Will harvesting the sunflowers replenish me? Two summers have died. That memory I

That’s it. I am never ever, ever, ever going out Ever again! Never. Why am I so awkward? Oh god everyone is laughing! Why me? A scarlet shade of shame If I cover my cheeks they’ll know I’m blushing. If

Unimpressed by your lack of ambition I want to control, dictate your small mind Exploited, but fine with your position While our heads are foreign, our hearts combined Your mother, your dad grew up in this town Your father served

It drips – my ocean. One drop at a time from the eyes of a grey stone. Flows the anguish in a cave. A fallen grace from sky, flickering like an earthen lamp. Do not go heart broken into crowd.

If you’ve listened close to silence, I’m sure that you’ve heard, The gentle constant ringing, In the space between two words. When you really pay attention, You find it’s not just in your head, But instead in the whispers of

Tell me that everything is alright Because we didn’t end it with a fight You didn’t give me a reason to end this discussion I mean I hate everything about you right now But then again you are on my

It is not simply what you do that makes me feel loved by you Nor is it merely what you say that leads to a better way No, I do not even think that it is the things you share

We are but vessels of the creator, within, the culmination. The culmination of the creators experiment. How we look, what color, what sex, what nationality, irrelevant. What we produce is what matters, what we bring to the table. Has the

Dreams are the lofty, tall majestic mountains on which you can never climb, Dreams are the elusive mirages which always deceive you, Dreams are the seven colours of the rainbow which never colour you, Dreams are the silver glitterati of

talking of fire and passion watch a scented pistil guiding the asteroids, did you hear the flawless silence after the cuckoo’s call, an interruption, a suspended pause, then a high pitched cascading note, moon is still hanging out on the

Even the sleeping genes learn from their crashes with needles in eyes. A candid house chooses to fade after thinning of a blessing. Legacy of a heretic lives, dragging down the cracked joints of a frozen mirror. The wild lips