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Josh Aug 2018
Bamboo spine
bones and all,
stand tall

Soak up the
sour & the sweet

Remove yourself from
soil so dry

Plant your body
& your soul
in self-loving hands

Sway with the wind
but remember to
create your own someday

Nurture your warmth
don't let it die  

You are free to grow
in this landscape.

Remind your mind's eye.
This is your time.
With bamboo husks scattered,
My last bones shattered.
We mourn a loss of bliss,
Draped in fear learnt to dismiss,
I call for all to gather.

The stalks once in my heart,
Intertwined; and broke apart.
I never knew how weak I'd gotten,
As my glacial mind defrosted,
And from within; resilience departed.

My thoughts cannot grow,
Pierced by what I do not know.
I'm getting colder,
I am not a soldier,
I'm a victim to the blow.

As the last bit of me was hollowed out,
I spoke the words of hope through my mouth:
"I will learn to accept the pain,
Rather than soaking it in my veins,
I'll filter it to the ground."
--------------------------------------
I've been looking up what things symbolize feelings, and I've been so excited to write with them.
Apparently, (as far as I've read) bamboo is a symbol of strength in China. I just feel like weakness is such a common emotion, and it takes so much to grow out of.
I hope this isn't confusing.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!!:):)
Noor Apr 2018
Farewell my lonely friend
Should I apologize?
As you welt and bend
You're dead now
Gone with my luck
burnt out

Farewell
For I did not care
But now I sense a difference
There's sadness in the air
You were alone most of the time
I'd complain to you
But never hear your desperate cries

I should have cared
But I was never even there
I'm sorry my little green friend
I'm sorry that this is how you meet your end.
Denel Kessler Oct 2016
shallow creeper
blindly seeks
subterranean passage
horizontal
push and ******
fingered shoots
in compliant ground

purple sword
arcs skyward
a deception
yet to unfurl
gold to conceal
the tangle
underneath

perennation
in unfavorable
seasons
propagates
subversive
perpetual
regeneration
Tommy W Sep 2016
A forest of green
Bamboo stalks surround us
With long thin leaves
Before they were taken by thieves

Tasty bamboo
Growing out askew
The sky is blue
It’s a wonderful view
A-choo!

(Short pause)

A-choo!
A panda has the flu
As I look in the distance
I see the end of their existence
Humans and machines
Destroying their land by any means
Their Bamboo has been taken
And replaced with smoke

This is no joke
No humans spoke
Until they finally awoke
To see the pandas are dying
In what was once their land
All by our hand

Not quite what we had planned
Maybe we should’ve thought of this beforehand
In my Creative Writing class we are supposed to describe a mind of someone, real or fake, as if it were a place. I think I did that, and added on a little bit.
Anyways I really liked how it turned out. Hope you guys do too!

Also, if you read through my poems lately they're meant to be happy then result in death. Jeez my mind must be very dark haha. I wonder what it'd be like to write a poem about my own head as a place.
JGuberman Sep 2016
The views from Qing Xiu Shan are very nice
and I am feeling better than I did this morning
the Yong River winds through green fields
the breeze fills my lungs
my thoughts rustle like bamboo leaves
a southern tranquility rises in the distance
covered by the opaque morning
this is what my mind's eye sees
as I rock my little girl to sleep
kissing the forehead
that will never be without a kiss
until my lips are still
like the peaceful day we yearn for
Qing Xiu Shan is a small mountain 5 km outside Nanning (Guangxi) China.
southern tranquility is a literal approximation of what Nanning  means in English.
Austin Martin Jan 2016
Bamboo shoots grow all two quickly only to diverge two soon.
Resilience comes not easily but is learned, whether rooted in
Earth, rock, sand we have learned to grow through our fears.
Are the hazards of growth greater than the ease of departure?
Keep this in mind, for I do two.

Us. That is something I will fight for,
Planted shallow are the roots, sanguinely sowing steadier

-AM
i
how like a napping innocent
the song was stolen away
when i my reason bribed
could not find where i belonged.
a patch is made of unrimed rime
and *** by *** it tore away
telling awhile
never will, you may.
i groped. you lingered
you waned. i waited.
when i would
to the solitude of
the rocks have gone
alas!
i found,
the singer of the song.

ii
bend bamboo
to the gusts and gails
that sweep, sweep.
swing back to whirl again
as the winds its fancy bend
so do – ne’er complain.
on windy ludes
so low you bow
after you kissed
the earth below
embrace you the sun.
sing now you violins
the rustles of enchantment
of dancing toes
it’s a mellow melody
… lingers on…

iii
useless are
the wings of birds
if the wide and brimless sky
to them are yet untold.
if none to care
and none to pine
how can a sign
of triumph bare
as birds and sky
as twains do share?

iv
full moon and empty arms
for every setting sun?
i fled thy silvern chatter
of vanished cries
and curling past.
suns have gone now.
and seeking never find.
no moon and empty arms
but when were you
not starbeam
and when not star
not beam.
if you could be
but how!
if you could see
but now!

v
came here, but,
did not tarry long.
a handful of sand
a greedy grip
a clutch, and,
through the fingers slip
till naught is left
but an empty grip.
she is come
know i
when gone.
Duke Thompson Apr 2015
HanShan said
'Just the other day
A demon became a Bodhisattva.'
Gives me hope
Now I go too
Find my mountain
Desolation Peak
Write my own poems
On bamboo
And rock
See HanShan, a Chinese poet
Dhaye Margaux May 2014
I stand with pride, I know it all
Though you can see, I bow, I fall
Whenever wind whispers my name
I bend my knees but stay the same

Whatever life would offer me
I will accept but I'm still free
I know how odd, it's like a game
I bend my knees but stay the same

The joy life brings would make me smile
Though sadness gazes for a while
When there's a will, just keep the flame
I bend my knees but stay the same

When sorrow's there to walk with me
Eyes are open to let me see
I'll still walk through yet like a lame
I bend my knees but stay the same

When sunbeam's there to scorch my skin
I wouldn't runaway or shin
I'll walk with pride but not with fame
I bend my knees but stay the same

When rain is there to stay with me
I'll never cry for I can see
It comes to heal, care for my name
I bend my knees but stay the same

That's how I live, how strong I am
Though storms may pass, though troubles come
I am still me, I'm on my frame
I bend my knees but stay the same.
Kyrielle
A Kyrielle is a French form of rhyming poetry written in quatrains (a stanza consisting of 4 lines), and each quatrain contains a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza). Each line within the poem consists of only eight syllables. There is no limit to the amount of stanzas a Kyrielle may have, but three is considered the accepted minimum.

Some popular rhyming schemes for a Kyrielle are: aabB, ccbB, ddbB, with B being the repeated line, or abaB, cbcB, dbdB.

Mixing up the rhyme scheme is possible for an unusual pattern of: axaZ, bxbZ, cxcZ, dxdZ, etc. with Z being the repeated line.

The rhyme pattern is completely up to the poet.
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