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Writing a poem is about locating self.
Every facet within what you’re about to create
blooms from your consciousness, your subconsciousness
your ego, your mind, your heart

But where are those elements planted?
Where are they rooted?

They are rooted within:

your ethnocentric illusions
your lived reality
your privilege, your pleasure, your pain
your abilities, your disabilities
your socioeconomic status: have and/or havenot
your fluency, your empathy, your sense of humour
your vices and your storytelling devices

Now we've got some roots, what are we going to grow?
Let’s begin by observing, using our senses
Maybe, let’s use our eyes
Consider, the reality of how we see and sense the world
Is different for each and every one of us

Everything is tempered by the lens we use
Which is informed through the roots of our synapses
Which empirically flow from the subjective ground
On which we stand

And what does this have to do with poetry?
What you describe in your poem,
Is an interpretation of what you see (and feel)

Interesting poetry comes when
there is exploring to do
It is a poet’s imperative to
Explore the edges
Out past the boundaries of the visual and audible spectrum

If we were fish poet’s
Would we write poetry about water?

I like to toy with my teenagers on occasion
So I asked my son the other day, what his worldview was?
And I have been enjoying the vacuous silence ever since
To be fair, I have been asking myself the same question for many years
And this might have been the inciting incident leading me to storytelling

As we began this journey together, it was stated that
Writing a poem is about locating self.
Can you describe your context?

Let me attempt to describe mine:

Here I am on the stage in this ocean of air
At the Owl Acoustic Lounge
On a Wednesday night in May
Popping air with rhythm, nuance, and a certain je ne ce quoi

Although this poem is not objectively true
Let me attempt to share that
this poem blooms from my developing cosmology
From the overtures of my Overself;
from the undercurrents of the Monomyth,
From my ***** and through my groans of intercession
This poem blooms from oblivion
Threading through philosophy, to worldview, and into a budding cosmology

For myself:
Worldview fell away when I found cosmology while reconnecting with the night sky
That night sky took me places while grounding me concurrently in inner spaces
Where locating self flows into meta-cognitive health,
Well ... that is something to write about
Preparing for Shakaat Artist-in-Residency. Performed at the Owl Acoustic Lounge on May 24, 2023.
i can cut all the petals off of you,

as viciously as i please....

but what i will fail to accomplish is the pulling of your roots.

They've ran too deep.

and well,

the petals will all return too soon.

and quite frankly

i remembered every color in them, anyway.

close your eyes to the sun, and I promise -

the iris will still feel him.


cowardice
Lily Priest Jul 2020
Weep for me willow
Loose and low
With aged tales
Of travellers
Tuned to the melodies
Of song birds
And sleepy streams
That sigh their way
Through the centuries.

Wave willow
With the winds of change
Root yourself
In soil as aged
As your dreams
Mamta Wathare Feb 2020
Crawl your way up
the bitter earth
Break open
And breathe

There’s a world out there
for you to see
but first
you must learn
to weather a storm
to swim a sea ...
and grow as if you were a tree
each day, everyday

you must live
like it is the beginning
as if the story has
just  started
and you are the master of your own mystery  

So, gather your soul
wait for the sunlight
stay rooted,feel the breeze
on your warm skin

And Breathe ...
Mystic Ink Plus Jun 2019
You are
Rooted
Within

To make me
Believe
A home
Where I belong
Genre: Romantic
Theme: Belonging
Charlie Dog Jul 2018
She's always been like a tree,
Rooted and strong.
The resemblance
Only grew with her age.
The wrinkles of her face-
Hard and intricate bark;
And her wisdom reaching-
Branches offering shade
Krishnapriya May 2018
The tall tree
with a thousand branches
wishes it was free
to fly
like the birds.

The birds in the sky
wish they could be still
In one place, every day
Get nourished
and grow effortlessly
like the tall tree
with a thousand branches

To be rooted and yet free
To be free and yet centered

The desire of all life
Begins with awareness
And ends in love.
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