
Lisa asks…
Would you like to read a little poem about Marigolds?
“Marigold are dumb!”… by Synum
No thats not a Marigold,
tis quite different truth be told.
They look related when they’re young,
but worlds apart as they get old.
To find one in your garden‘s rare,
see these two plants you can’t compare.
While Marigolds just look the part,
The Rasta-Bush will fade dispair.
Best find your Wild-child,
Don’t grow old.
and you can stick your
Marigold!
…*puffwha*
admin answers:
* grabs stupid Marigold..he loves me ..he loves me not….

Sandy asks…
How do you like this poem? It’s about a suicide…?
The Optimism Principle
Baby why did you commit suicide?
Now I can no longer look into your eyes.
Baby I thought you were doin’ fine.
But now I’ll never see you for the rest of time.
What was it that made you think
That this life on Earth was so grim?
Who planted seeds of death into your mind?
And why did you water them?
Your garden was so fertile
It had the purest soil around
I guess your garden was vulnerable
To whatever was planted in your ground
There was only one thing you needed know
That you were the dictator of where you can go
But the nasty voices inside of your head
Have you left you in the dirt and left you for dead
But by the power of all that can be good
I know your soul is still alive
So when the forces of nature take away my life
In heaven our souls shall collide…
admin answers:
I don’t like it except the garden epithet

Carol asks…
What is your interpretation of Robert Frost’s “Gods Garden”?
I am writing a paper for my English 104 class and I am using this poem. However with Robert Frost no longer alive I need a few interpretations of what people think about it. I would appreciate the help thanks. Here is the poem:
God’s Garden
by Robert Frost
God made a beatous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
And to this beauteous garden
He brought mankind to live,
And said: “To you, my children,
These lovely flowers I give.
Prune ye my vines and fig trees,
With care my flowerets tend,
But keep the pathway open
Your home is at the end.”
Then came another master,
Who did not love mankind,
And planted on the pathway
Gold flowers for them to find.
And mankind saw the bright flowers,
That, glitt’ring in the sun,
Quite hid the thorns of av’rice
That poison blood and bone;
And far off many wandered,
And when life’s night came on,
They still were seeking gold flowers,
Lost, helpless and alone.
O, cease to heed the glamour
That blinds your foolish eyes,
Look upward to the glitter
Of stars in God’s clear skies.
Their ways are pure and harmless
And will not lead astray,
Bid aid your erring footsteps
To keep the narrow way.
And when the sun shines brightly
Tend flowers that God has given
And keep the pathway open
That leads you on to heaven.
admin answers:
It sounds like the garden is the earth.
God made it for us.
Then the devil came to disrupt the whole thing.
He tricked the humans and made them vear off away from their paradise with attractive offers.
But god will never let you down and he’ll forgive you. He will let you make a mends and resume your like in paradise.
Thats wat i got out of it

Michael asks…
Anybody knows what this poem means by Pablo Neruda?
Ode to the Sea
Here on the island
the sea
and so much sea
overflowing,
relentless,
it says yes, then no,
then no, no, no,
then yes, in blue,
in foam, with gallops,
it says no, again no.
It cannot stay still,
my name is sea, it repeats
while slamming against rocks
but unable to convince rocks,
then
with seven green tongues
of seven green dogs,
of seven green tigers,
of seven green seas,
it smothers rocks, kisses rocks,
drenches rocks
and slamming its chest,
repeats its name.
O sea, you declare yourself,
O comrade ocean,
don’t waste time and water,
don’t beat yourself up,
help us,
we are lowly
fishermen,
men of the shore,
we’re cold and hungry
and you’re the enemy,
don’t slam so hard,
don’t scream like that,
open your green trunk
and give all of us
on our hands
your silver gifts:
fish every day.
Here in each house,
we all crave it
whether it’s of silver,
crystal or moonlight,
spawn for the poor
kitchens on earth.
Don’t hoard it,
you miser,
coldly rushing like
wet lightning
beneath your waves.
Come, now,
open yourself
and leave it
near our hands,
help us, ocean,
deep green father,
end one day
our earthly poverty.
Let us
harvest your lives’
endless plantation,
your wheat and eggs,
your oxes, your metals,
the wet splendor
and submerged fruits.
Father sea, we know already
what you are called, all
the seagulls circulate
your name on the beaches:
now, behave yourself,
don’t shake you mane,
don’t threaten anyone,
don’t smash against the sky
your beautiful teeth,
ignore for a moment
your glorious history,
give to every man,
to every
woman and to every child,
a fish large or small
every day.
Go out to every street
in the world
and distribute fish
and then
scream,
scream
so all the working poor
could hear you,
so they could say,
sticking their heads
into the mine:
“Here comes the old man sea
to distribute fish.”
And they’ll go back down
into the darkness,
smiling, and on the streets
and in the forests,
men and the earth
will smile
an oceanic smile.
But
if you don’t want it,
if you don’t care for it,
then wait,
wait for us,
we must worry, first
we must try to solve
and straighten out
human affairs,
the biggest problems first,
then all the others,
and then
we’ll enter you,
we’ll chop the waves
with a knife made of fire,
on an electric horse
leaping over foam,
singing
we’ll sink
until we touch the bottom
of your guts,
an atomic thread
will guard your shank,
we’ll plant
in your deep garden
trees
of cement and steel,
we’ll tie
your hands and feet,
on your skin man will walk,
spitting,
yanking in bunches,
building armatures,
mounting and taming you
to dominate your spirit.
All this will occur
when us men
have straighten out
our problem,
the big,
the big problem.
We’ll slowly
solve everything:
we’ll force you, sea,
we’ll force you, earth
perform miracles,
because in our very selves,
in the struggle,
is fish, is bread,
is the miracle.
admin answers:
It is about judgement day and what god will do and what will happen. The seven animals and all that are things that god will send to hurt us and destroy everything that we did to the world, it say we will touch the bottom of your guts and plant, this means that the spirit will get in side you and change you and plant new ideas because our minds will be opened to all that we did not know. God will not care about our history of good that we had done or anything like that.
Keep going from there i can’t give it all away
Hope this helped=)

Mary asks…
Here is another poem. Give me your input. (do you like the style, tone, etc.)..I don’t really like the end yet
Sometimes I wonder if the garden will plunder
My thoughts and ideas as they bloom
The torment inside me from not being able to plant
Causes the seeds to spoil
As the potential flowers are disposed of
The gardens true beauty is lost
Sometimes I fear that the garden will hear
My emotions then shrivel and wilt
When Mozart plays its just a façade
Because the too dry tunes do not display
The garden in all of its glory
Its dormant originality is suppressed deep with in
Without sun or water to allow it to flourish.
Only when isolation strikes
Can the garden become a stunning enigma
When day falls into night
And the mind drifts into alternate realities
The garden becomes an Arboretum
Nothing is too strange too different or too exotic
To study for hours upon end
Each pedal flourishes – bright and exuberant
Every element creates an illusory landscape
Its beauty is indescribable
But the gardener knows deep down inside
That the garden is not ready for the unfamiliar
So she keeps to herself
Finding alternative methods to
Preserve the seeds that bloomed in her dreams
As the seeds are saved
The gardener ponders
Smiling for success in the future
How does it make you feel? What do you think its about? I don’t really care if you like the style or tone, I just want to know what you think about it. lol thanks
You were right! The garden is supposed to represent anything higher than myself (i.e. the world, my city, my group of friends, etc.). It seems, sometimes, that the world is not ready for my ideas of equality, acceptance, and diversity. So I have to find ways to save those ideas for the future so I don’t forget or let myself forget the promisses that I made to myself when I was younger. Thanks for your input!
As for the different people (the I, She, the gardener) when I think about my problems, I always find myself getting back to the idea that I’m not the only one who feels such inner turmoil…all girls must feel the same thing at one point in their life (thats when you see the poem change to she)
Then I realize that it is, indeed, a universal problem and everyone probably feels the same way so in the end we are talking about men and women (gardners)
And I do feel that the world could almost be a fantasy if we all let go of our sterotypes, taboos, etc. (or at least thats how I see it in my dreams) And I think one day it will be so unique and eclectic that we will be able plant seeds with out them spoiling.
lol
Thanks for the feedback ![]()
I didnt really think of giving it a title, but I guess it would be nice to keep it simple – “The Garden” lol
and thanks, but I’m not really a poet. Just 18 with great a passion for friends, the world, and liberals. It may sound cheezy but it’s easier for me to hide my emotions in poems rather than to tell someone. But I suppose thats what keeps our lives interesting, right?
admin answers:
Loved this!
Though I’m not the greatest at analysing poems, I’d like to think this has a fantasy element in it. The nature of the garden, which is the subject of this poem, keeps changing: in the beginning it seems cruel, evil even, then something quite intricate and fascinating, then an ‘illusory landscape’, and so on – is this supposed to reflect something? Why doesn’t it allow the girl to express her thoughts? There seems to be different people in the poem, the ‘I’, the ‘she’ and the gardener, who ‘knows deep down inside’ the true nature of the garden. It looks like he has already achieved something at the end of the poem.
I love the fact that this poem has several layers of meanings – it sends the reader on a quest to hunt for all the clues in order to discover the hidden story. Perhaps you could give us a clue? ![]()
I’ll go through the poem again and edit my answer – thanks for the read!
Wonderful! I feel honoured to be responded by a poet – really. When I do the poems for literature, the poets are so distant and that doesn’t make it appealing to me – I can’t relate to it. It’s amazing how some words can have different meanings to everyone. I can definitely relate to your idea. All I gotta say is – you’re definitely talented. So now how about a title?
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