And you and me are still
Young enough to really live.
We are simply melding
Into another season of emotion.
The years are just beginning
To gray what they have claimed
And have been allowed to claim.

The wind blows away what it can--
What cannot be tied down.

Keep whispering
Your soul into my soul.
Keep primal scream tears          
Falling into my primal soul.

Keep filling up the empty spaces.
Keep creating empty spaces.

Tearing down the vacant walls.
Building up new walls.

Opening locked doors.
Locking others in turn

As we forever transform together
Under the aegis of the Immortal

As I grow like the roots
Of the banyan tree

Hanging down with the branches
Helping to provide shelter
As I slowly grow closer
To the sweet earth
In silent anticipation.
Finally touching her.
Slowly penetrating her.
Gently pushing deeper
Until we are of one purpose

Deeply rooted by the banks
Of the Eternal Zoe River
That descended from heaven
And flows through
Human spirit transformed.

Life-giving water running slow
And deep the source of your whisper--
True essence in deepest longings

Flowing into my source
Pockets of holy energy overflowing
Slowed down to a trickle at times
Going full circle and
                                     Back and forth
From out of reach channels.

That something deep beyond the
                                 Starry masses.

That something some call love.

That something some call God.

That something flowing & living
                                  In you and me.

                --Daniel Irwin Tucker

The dance through life.
Please don't mistake poetic device for being "religious"
Arcassin B
Arcassin B
6 days ago

By Arcassin Burnham

How did I sleep on this?
How did I manage to keep myself in this charade
Any longer then I need to even fathom if I believed you,
It still wouldn't be the same,
Everyone is a victim,
Pushing lies on one another just to see how it
Will impact them,
I've been there,
Done that,
For sure it wasn't an impact,
It was an improvement to see how fake people
Thinking out loud,
Days have became a bit solid and filled with
Sorry that there's no trace of psychedelia,
Just me and a couple of snacks with a liter root beer
Sitting in the corner of grandma's room,
Flowers keep blooming outside putting roots on
The wall and savoring the roof.


At the silted banks of river Nile,
I'd sung to the glory of Lucy;
I'd soared high over the echoing Savanna
and fought and bled for Shaka Zulu.
I was first to push back abyss,
the last to be ripped away. I'll
return one day, I'll bring the rest.

Form: Kwansaba
#home   #hope   #longing   #history   #promise   #africa   #roots  

There's a tree in modern-day
That grows its upside down
It flourishes unnoticed
Not even a frown
It's all roots and rotting dirt
An ugly shade of brown

The rainstorms never touch it
Yet it always seems to grow
Where the low shrub is headed
No one seems to know
It's a metaphor for wrongness
For hate, and greed, and woe

                      Deep under the soil
There are blossoms and green leaves
Yes, they are now unseen
But no one seems to grieve
They are pressed into the dirt
And dirt They will receive

But those leaves and blossoms
To the bright gold branches cling
They are kindness, goodness
Still they softly sing
They don't mind unfairness
No protest do they bring
For they are well-nourished

By a pure underground SPRING


Inspiration from Mike Hauser's latest poem
Upon the same subject... now days  what's
Right is Wrong  & vice versa!

#god   #rain   #wrong   #spring   #leaves   #right   #roots   #hellopoetry107  
Jan 24

I'm not tryna interfere, I'm just really down

Until you ground me, you sow your seeds, plant roots in me. 
You water me with sweat, you cover me in dirty words, you shower me in love, make me feel human for once.

I’m not tryna interfere, I’m just really down

I can’t leave now, you’ve rooted me, straight into the ground.

#love   #lust   #growth   #requiem   #roots   #dirt  

two things
we can give our children:
roots and wings

#children   #wings   #roots  

If I was a tree.
Which stood tall.
A monument to life.
Strong, gentle, and kind.
Wind would gently kiss my leaves.

I would be a prison.
A desolate grove of death.
Roots drunk with toxicity.
Trunk twisted, etched in profanity.
Just barren branches of thorns.

#life   #death   #nature   #poison   #tree   #crown   #roots   #arbor  

There is no tomorrow where
there is no yesterday.
We all came from somewhere
and we're all going away.
Forever is a long time
that encompasses the past
Forever keeps on going,
no matter what won't last.
How can you hate the rainfall
yet love what it may grow,
or hide out from the light
in spite of what that light may show.
The future holds more of the same,
don't even play pretend-
joy and pain walk hand in hand
only the dead have seen the end.

We all come from somewhere,
every acorn has its tree.
The past may not be pretty,
but it's part of who we be.

#life   #roots  

The story Clinton Jarvis - my father.

Isle La Motte Roots

There's a place of quiet peace
In beautiful Vermont
It is filled with history
It beckons you, and haunts
In pacific Lake Champlain
It's called Isle La Motte

The lake is long and narrow
A lovely gem-like blue
The Island lies within its shores
It is a jewel, too.
Emerald in the summer
In fall a topaz hue

Old style houses charm us
With plain stone quarry frames
There are many maple trees
In fall these become flame
Churches with tall steeples
All barns look much the same.

From Blanchard's Point to The Head
North to south we go
Clark's & Reynolds to Fisk & Scott's
These east/west points we know
From The Lighthouse & Fort Stann
To the marble quarries low.

It seems the rock on Isle La Motte
Was formed from glacial ice
Which pressed the clay beneath it
As if it were a vice
The marble from the quarries
Is especially nice!

Samuel Fisk founded some of these
Marble blue, black, and grey
Many used the sturdy stones
Solid houses in the way
They can be found everywhere
And still stand to this day.

There was an ingenious sawmill
Powered by a boat!
A large and hearty steamer
By The Dock would float
The "Utica" by name
As sawmill founders wrote.

The taverns and inns
Had distinctive place
It would be so heartening
To see a merry face
There the weary travellers
Could find warmth and grace.

Famous for its apples
There are many orchards found
John Bowman & William Yale
Planted in the ground
My father was one who picked from them
Folks came from miles around.

The Fleury Store had merchandise
Sold to people from their stock
Carson's Store and Naylor's
Store to store the folks would walk
Often a place of meeting
Where people stood to talk.

Elizabeth Fisk. Creative.
She had looms, and linen wrought
This fabric so very fine
Much of it was bought
There were also boats and ferries
On an island... used a lot!

Nelson Fisk secured the Post Office
James Ritchie built in stone
His relation, Cynthia
Maintained the library alone
Succeeded by M. LaBombard
For faithfulness much known.

Both Methodist and Catholic
Worship the Divine
The faithful go to churches
No matter what the clime
A place of fame on Isle La Motte
Is lovely St Anne's Shrine.

The original schools on Isle La Motte
We're founded by strong men
Independent. Intelligent.
Created they back then.
Back in 1782 they had discerning ken.

The school my father went to
Only had one room.
He graduated the 8th grade
For his future groomed
But went to High School elsewhere
Back then quite a boon!

The Jarvis' were tennent farmers
Not much to be made
But the beauty of the place
Embraced them in its shade
T'was in this environment
Where young Clinton played.

Amongst the leaves - jade and fire
Honey'd amber caught
He found a love of nature
He was reared and taught
Here his story started

A place called Isle La Motte.

Catherine Jarvis

Finally completed! This segment in my father's biography took a while due to the
amount of research done. As you can see!

Sorry i haven't been around. This poem is
part of the reason why!

I'm going to present this to my now
hospitalised father this weekend. It will
be written out on posters in large writing
so he can read it... he's completely deaf and
going blind. It will bring back many fond
memories to him I'm sure! He certainly
deserves happiness about now!



I'll plant a kiss in your lips,
So that a smile will grow in it,
Then its roots will reach into your heart and soul,
And that love will be its fruit.

© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.

For Brandon ❤❤

OMG. Lol. I didn't realize this became the daily poem ON MY BIRTHDAY. Hahaha.. Lots stuff are happening today and I am really happy. Thank you everyone
#love   #kiss   #heart   #smile   #soul   #grow   #plant   #fruit   #roots  
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment