From the lover you'll never know

A note scribbled down in tears

sits atop a mound of colour

Trying to work out these forgotten fears

From a family torn and lost

Flowers that soon will rot

Your teddy sits upon the mound, arms wide open

Melting, muddy and forgotten

For the journey now cut short

With an ending some had thought

If only you could see things

How b...

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In the silence that resonates,
a lament of absences,
the flowers bloom in the shadows,
whispers of a life that fades away.

Eyes searching the horizon
for a trace of hope,
but pain, like a poem,
is sculpted in the words of the day.

The city is a labyrinth of steps
that reflects solitude at every corner -
laughter dissolves in the wind
like falling petals,
disguised in the chaos.

...

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I turned the volume down so I could hear you.

Everything is still too loud.

Too many voices, and not the one I needed to hear.

I want to hear.

Mourning that lasted for nine hundred sixty four days.

Salty tears soaked waterlogged greenery.

Droopy head. Droopy leaves.

Pruning a root bound plant

Repot. 

Acclamation felt like dormancy

Dormancy was intense

Lef...

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Feeling inspired by flowers ....

Eager to rise

Searching for sun

Spiriling vines

Quick to hold on

Striking a pose

To soak up the rain

Then onwards

And upwards

She's moving again

Queen of the climbers

Flowers free flowing

Her petals define her

She'll never 

Stop growing 

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There was a pretty, little flower girl

Many moons ago

She always found the brightest blooms

And sold them down The Row

The Row was full of scurrilous knaves 

Who thought her smile so priceless 

One day they took that smile away 

And left her cold & lifeless 

No man nor beast was ever caught

And flowers bloomed no-more

The Row fell grey with dank decay 

An...

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The Secret of the Sunflowers

is one that my mother knows.

How their gaze forever follows the sun,

the more that they grow

and glorious they become!

The late afternoon shadows lay forgotten behind,

they remind me of where our mother taught us

to always turn our minds.

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I see them daily,

The trees...

Smoothly waving their giant arms at the passers by.

Shedding off what's wilted,

Waiting for the spring to stop by.

I observe them everyday,

The birds...

All flocked and frisky.

Soaring up high,

Never dwelling in envy.

I see them, the stars...

Who never seem wry.

Happy with their brilliance,

Lighting up the sky.

I see them dai...

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I hope the stars

Always twinkle for you.

I hope the flowers

Always bloom for you.

I hope the sun

Always shines for you.

I hope the moons 

Always bright for you.

I hope the sunset 

Is always your favorite color.

I hope your ocean’s 

waves are always calm. 

I hope your river

Always runs true. 

I hope the rain 

Never lasts too long. 

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Can I help it, if I think you're beautiful?
If I love you, 
Must I spend my whole life being sorry?
When you smile, 
Something twists inside me.
Something fragile, so it ought to break
But doesn't.

Can I help it, if I think you're special?
If your name excites me,
Must I always try to hide it?
The cynic in me tries to squash it;
Dulls my voice, and makes me stiffen.
Makes my gaze see...

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I let you all down

     ?     I let myself down

Now it’s time to go

                      Time let my thoughts d 

                                                           r 

                                                             o 

                                                               w 

                                                                n 

   ...

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Flo and Rose were lovers

they ran a florists' shop,

buds and lilies binding

a love they'd never lop

then Rose met a driver

new emotions but true,

she left Lily cut deeply

and eloped off to Kew

sick to death of flowers

Lily pined, got sick, died,

specified in her last will

no wreaths grave-side

her plot's tidy but bare

no blooms for her woes,

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A Nameless Flower

Ujjal Mandal, India

A nameless flower has come out
From the unknown bush. 
Neither pens write her name 
Nor books make place for her. 
But my heart has written her name 
On the pages of human hearts.

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You're gone but it was good

You had to put up with a lot

My moods and wanderings

A child dying alone in his cot

Carnations bring you back

Our shady garden bowers

You dangle from my heart

In chains of faded flowers

High up on Ilkley Moor

Laid in fields of heather

Laughing we made love

Never mind the weather

His birth was not easy

For you might h...

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The other day I caught myself staring at your image
Embedded in the cliff-side pool.
Surrounded by flowers and foliage,
Miles away from you.

Your skin porcelain,
Flaws hidden,
Eyes clement,
You didn't even seem human.

And maybe you weren't.
You were perhaps just an abstract concept,
An evanescent concoction of pigments,
Who swam away, leaving behind no remnants.

When I thought ab...

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Hear the shuffled footsteps drag upon the cold alone

Looking for a distant stone an ancient memory

Dryness caked upon the ground with lives that never were

Looking for a trace of wounded flowers

Rows of dying blossoms dripping open in the rain

Satyrs running naked in the summer nights of love

Cracked and dripping idols close their eyes against the pain

Blinded aged still ...

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I never saw such a posy of carnations

A flush that shade rose to my cheeks

They were delivered each day at first

Before long it was every few weeks

Flowers are yesterday and I know it

Reality can cope without fine blooms

The mundane stuff is more important

Like securing a set of cheap rooms

Memories of those sprays sustain me

Even now I can smell that African l...

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Rosebay, willow-herb and common poppy

Garnish each enchanting meadow

Sweet fragrances and alluring hues

Draw rapt villagers to every window

Flowers can be double-edged swords

Marking endless sorrow and pain

I can recall the time my father died

The old tin bath where wreaths were lain

Deadly nightshade or belladonna

Lurks on limestone and dry chalk

Consume th...

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(Inspired by Death With Dignity, Sufjan Stevens)

Stoic and sober silence, I can feel you,
Like a blanket draped 'round me
When I'm down with flu.
Why don't you speak?
Decimated dreams, I can see you
Even in the stark bleak.
The color of coal.
When will you heal?
Whispers of floating phantoms, I can hear you,
When you hover over my cot
And sing a berceuse.
Why did you stop?
Flowers p...

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Gazing at the sunrise, as a new day breaks the dawn,

bleary eyes fixate towards the distant edge of my lawn.

The speckled common foxglove, sturdy, strong and tall,

a spike of colour backdropped by a grey, dry stone wall.

Lost deep in absent minded daydream, I begin to think,

if foxes wore gloves would they be purple, white or pink?

Early birds catch worms for hungr...

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Inscribed on Emanuel Sweert's painting 'Florilegium': Man's life is a flower.

Like a flower, he comes forth, then withers away; 
like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure.
Book of Job 14:2

While I watched, her blossom

faded from the field

left no shadow

Now all life expects in this eleventh hour

we should revere lost heroes with a flower

But I shall not ...

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Love once bloomed 
like a fragrant flower
in eternal spring.

Through years of 
torrential summer tears, 
then droughts,

the scent faded.

All that seemingly remains
are scorched petals that drop 
like dead leaves in fall.

But, far beneath 
the frozen surface, 
intertwined roots run deep...

Making our twisted love 
hardy, to weather the 
toughest seasons.
 
###

https://...

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Between the last customer

and morning light

in the parking lot of the Korean Gentleman's Club,

he picks lilacs for me.

Standing high against a warehouse wall,

these always bloom early, and 

he goes annually, covertly, in the still dark,

unsure of welcome by the

Korean Gentlemen.

He fills the car.

I imagine that damp, spring-scented ride home,

his fantasy of be...

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Pain in my stomach, heart, mind,
stabs of a knife 
I yearn for this piercing pain 
I've lacked it far too long.

Ungrateful love:
Punch me, hurt me, kill me almost.

Almost.

so later
when the rain has ceased
a flower can bloom again
a new blossom
the same plant

Revive me, ungrateful love
Make me another

Kill me.

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I’m ordinary and that’s ok

Extraordinary is made of

A million ordinaries anyway

I can feel Magnolia

Reflecting sheen 

From her glossy dark leaves

It’s early afternoon

Rays warm my left shoulder

My car window lets just enough in 

The faint rattle in my back seat

Plays a bridge

To the melody of my AC

The turns of my car, so familiar

The rout...

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I spent
My last $20
On you.
I hope
You like
What I got you.

I know
They're not
The nicest ones there,
But I,
Wanted to show
That I was thinking bout you.

I know that,
Times have been
Tough for you,
And I
Know that this
Wont make everything right.
But I've been thinking bout you.

And with
Every petal that falls
I hope you
Know that it's
Every thought I have bout you.

...

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Let me return to past, let me recall tonight
With me cries, each corner and wall tonight

What let flowers to slit throat in my garden
Who has invoked the curse to fall tonight

My screams have awoken people from sleep
Separation to be mourned in rainfall tonight?

He might be Abbas-e-Ali collecting tears
Mourners have sighted him tall tonight

Mirza, your phone is ringing since evenin...

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Pick the petal, then you eat it.

Fields of daisies.

It's a sort of unegotistical monopoly that I crave

.
I think.

Playground fortune telling is a mysterious art that rides on the idealistic concept of opposite chance.
Loves Me.
Loves Me Not.

Where I stand now.

Where yellow spiraled arms that reach for love, surround me.
I come to the bubbling surface, that the reach...

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Blooming blossoms here and there,

Flowers looking more than fair.

this came to my mind somehow, and just wanted to write it down. I know its a bit weird as it is winter in hong kong, but anyway.

hope you enjoy.

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I am waiting for the day that you will show up at my door

With a flower for every birthday you missed.

Twenty-one flowers of vibrant colors—

Turquoise, violet, “tickled pink”—

They will spread their pedals in the warm spotlight

That will touch every inch of my cold, pale skin.

The features of my face will be illuminated.

I will no longer be the infant you left—

The life tha...

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I’m pretty sure there were tulips in her eyes,

I shouted “Fire! Fire!”,

She took off her sunglasses,

She saw sunrise.

Now I know it, there was a darling rose in her blush,

A honey dew in her stare

But they told me “beware, beware!”

“Have you not been warned of ‘primrose way’?”

Now I felt it, there were dandelions on her lips…

Make a wish, make a wish!

Daisy ...

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back in the time when the leaves crunched under our feet
we kissed and the world stood still,
but as leaves fall so did we

like the frigid air was our relationship,
glances and looks exchanged and meaner ones received
but as ice thaws so did we

as the flowers blossomed the looks weren't as harsh
back in the state of love and happiness we were
and as the sun gets hotter so did we

our...

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Flowers mark the spot

Once fresh

Sweet scent

Since faded

Brittle petals

Tied to the railings

Marking the spot

The shrine beside the road

For the passing world to see

Never forget

Never allowed to forget

Sun-bleached photo at it’s core

Decaying flowers surrounding

A reminder for the careless drivers

Too busy pedestrians

Texting as they walk

...

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Roses are red.

Violets are ... not red.

Hibiscus are sneaky little rascals that only bloom during that weekend when you're away visiting your parents because they still pay your bills.

I hate flowers.

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Oh, England,

you green and pleasant land,

your beauty never ceases to instil

a calmness in my hands.

A sense of peace; contentment

within my wandering mind,

a fulfilling feast for longing eyes

that seem always looking behind.

The golden greens of your pastures

covering long and rolling hills,

the succulent scent of your flowers

tickling senses to smile at...

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Swaying flowers,

passing hours,

birds in evergreens

happy smiles,

worth your whiles

and sappy little trees

muddy faces,

fraying laces,

and a gentle summer breeze

swaying flowers,

passing hours,

making memories

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Fallacy

An eloquent visage placed upon a pedestal of mosaic stones, 

Creamy white snow shimmering, 

Glistening freshly cut phernomes sit eloquently upon your chest. 

"They will die!," you say. 

"They will die!," you say. 

Erogenous plains outline your temporal landscapes,

An infinite glaze of still-life sunflowers,

Procreating infants breadth, 

Hypnotizing Adriatic oils,

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Gladiolus

She ate sliced ham out of a zip-lock bag,
standing beside me on the subway platform
with her side-tilted hat showing she was
all spunk and all seriousness, making me
feel absurd to be holding these gladiolus
and heading to the far west side of the city
where my sweet friends with an Irish accent
had just had a baby removed.  

This girl with her hat and her ham and I
watched...

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From the 'Wings' series

They announce the occasion
White for the virgin.
Black for death
Red for love.
Pink for a girl
Blue for a boy.
The loudest colour of all
Embarrassed cheek of girl or boy.

We have had them all
Confetti in our lives.
Throw me red rose petals
Shower me with love.
Spray me with your rainbow
Dazzle me with your spectrum.
No need for pots of gold at the en...

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You sent me

flowers as an

attachment

to my work email

account.

It wasn’t

quite the

romantic

gesture

I was

looking for.

I replied

with a

JPEG of a

dump.

I never

received

a postmaster

failure

email

so you must have got the message.

From my new book - 'Working Extra Hours Ha...

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When nights are long and spirits low,

Remember - still the flowers grow.

When days are short and full of woe,

Remember - still the flowers grow.

When health and wealth ebb to and fro,

Remember - still the flowers grow.

When friends and family come and go,

Remember - still the flowers grow.

When life has little left to show,

Remember - ...

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The language of flowers was born in the East

and today this tradition still persist.

Having a lack of communication,

being unable to show it on their faces,

the women of the East  created the language of flowers,

it could show their love power,

it could show their mood,

it helped them to be understood.

Once it had appeared as the language of communi...

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The flowers unfold

as I pick the rose

walking in the park

way after dark

with my boyfriend.

I lift the rose

as i climb the fence

wondering what the passer-by thinks

of me and my boyfriend.

he lends me a hand

as he stands on the pavement

smiling with his eyes

this handsome man,

my boyfriend.

the passer-by stops

as i be...

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The Bach Flower Remedies : 38 Haiku (click to link)

38 haiku - one for each of the Bach Flower Remedies - now published with illustrations online by Edward Bach Organisation Research Programme.

Some of the haiku:

cherry plum

the coroner declares

impulsive suicide

the silent mull

of this way or that

scleranthus

olive

a week of ...

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