If I could grow a garden
I would plant chaos like flowers
Taking the malicious, and spiteful seeds i got from a neighbor
Burying them deep in the cold hearted earth
And I would water them with intense loathe
I don't need a label
My blossom is Poison Ivy
Feed my little darling with lots of scorn
Everyday i would go out to talk to my malevolent wild bloom
And come winter she won't need any covering to keep the warmth
Rays of venomous black sun would shine down
To burn a rancid gaping hole
In this they would falter
I would tend her by planting lots of weeds
My blossom needs friends-
So she doesn't feel rejected
My crumpled bitter heart bleeding out
Poison Ivy, she strengthens my veins.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
thanks for the invitation to read more of your work? /play? . i like the poet note, as i also liked your bio [seems i didn't read it before; maybe it wasn't there before]. i always wondered how poison ivy got its start. neighbor, huh? you are a good garden-tender and the poem wasn't bad either. you attribute at least some weirdness-of-your-poem(s) to mental illness. is this one of them? except tor the reference to black 'sunshine' [i'm assuming a black sun gives off black rays of light; dangerous to assume sometimes, i'm told] i thought the poem was simply creative/clever. WELL, maybe the crumpled bitter heart could be a clue to mental illness? if so, maybe some of my ex-wives suffered that kind. [that was an attempt at 'sick'? humor; i'm bad! ] i think i'll add this to MyPoemList for posterity, whatever that means. :) bri