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

Another minute without you, has passed, As sands pour grandly in a timely fall, And so did leaves that on the ground have massed, When they obliged to heed the Winter’s call; But wintry days lingered, to fill my life,

Here I enter my bureau cube Greet my co-workers and Mr. Big Blue too. Show them the picture of the latest TV I bought, Because last month’s raise I got! They plan plan plan … And invite selves in my

What shall I do? However hard I try, her memory of bygone days, I am unable to erase. The truth is that the mark she has left on my heart has now melted and formed a hole. Though I continue

The children were purpled at a very quick glance you could kid yourself they’d gotten into grape juice taken the blueberries out of the freezer had a fight with makeup of some kind they were just dead each lying on

When I gaze at her eyes A softness fills my heart When my lips touch hers A sense of wonderment We have kissed before Through many lifetimes Her hands in mine Exquisite, so femininely divine Her cheeks blushed rosily Her

She had big eyes Sweet soft reply like nectar Hands, feet & face Her hair would flow with a trace Loved to be loved in a world so very cold She humbly kept a diary To capture her imainery friend

I’ll teach you how to read How soft the pages feel underneath your rough fingertips I’ll teach you how to play the violin, How music reveals what’s been hidden for years I’ll teach you how to braid your hair To

Oh Lord Almighty!! as I stand here crippled I complain to thee!! for making me crooked I look around, everything’s so nice You have filled me with only vice!! All trees flowers birds and bees Oh I envy all of

Freedom to be Loving and kind. Compassionate and empathise. To be strong yet gentle. To listen and understand To be fair and stand. Freedom from biases Age old medieval and rotten prejudices. Freedom to be different to be alive and

Between the changed and the unchanged Is a horizon unseen, Where you reach for the un-felt. Someday I will meet you there. To un-live myself in you.

Christmas eve is A time of family and tradition Or in my case Unopened PJ’s, anxiety attacks, and cops That’s all that I’ll ever think of anymore At the mention of it I’ll be brought to tears I was cleaning

There is a chilbil tree near our grandmother’s house, Full of weaver bird’s nest in monsoon season, God has created everything for a reason. The grassy strands are woven into cosy, Intricate nests for their spouse. The male baya painstakingly

Happiness is a lie when all you do is cry. What’s the use for you to try. Broken parts, shattered hearts feeling it before it starts. But oh how you laugh and smile in the crowds Your mother must be

You throw the berries in the river to stun the fish. A mannequin wants to go nude. The tormentor holes up in a bunker. You undertake a fast to clean the dirty plumes of a swan who will not take

The topic of discussion on Life and death appears futile When we are unaware how we came into the world Why should we be aware when we will be moving out of this world What we know is we are