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Poetic T Aug 2020
I gave my hand, leaving it hanging
                   there like a bare branch
of unfulfilled swaying.


You just looked down at
it as if  I were dead wood.
                I was felled by your
ignorance, they say trees
make no noise when they fall.

I'd taken out the hillside of respect
for you when mine fell to my side.

          Offered a branch
and you
       felled it for your ignorance.

Never again shall I offer you an
    extension, you'll fall alone
            in the woods of regret
no branches to lean upon...
Poetic T Aug 2020
Someone said I was a seed that
                         would grow deep.
But you pulled me before I had


the chance to grow between the
                      fallen brothers that
                             were taller.

But you quarantined me in this
                            this place.

Potted, you told me that I'd grow
                   further than the family

I'd left behind.


   It was a moment
                of concern that I'd never

reach the lengths of my brothers
         and sisters. yet you put me
   higher than they'd ever reach...  

They fell beneath me,
  

                   But no ,matter who falls


were the same branch and we will
                                      always reach further

than my silence as we'll always be



                            reaching further than

than the hate that tries to keep us

       lower than the furthest branch
that we can grow  from the desert of your
            infertile earth.
Knut Kalmund Jul 2020
there she hangs
my most appealing branch
bonding with a full-grown oak tree
what a fine firm fit

she enjoyed splendid foothold
one could say
according to her blooming children
far from decay

and her healthy membrane
enveloping the sturdy stem
that no wind can shake
silently screaming

pick me, pick me!
fine
I will pick you
as long as you promise me
one last time
that you will stay
firm
never let go
so I can
fit
like my head in god's bulge

as I hoist myself onto oblivion’s clasp
into the deadliest of heavens
I’m tired
untie
when you find me
untie
Bhill Jun 2020
it's been so long since....
oh, how I long for the those days
swinging in the tree
hanging upside down on that big branch
waiting for the sun to go down so hide and go seek was more challenging
skateboarding with friends and riding our bikes for hours and hours
marbles were the rage and the Boulders were worth some attention
falling down and scraping our knees, shaking it off till we got home
spinning around so fast and furious that you got too dizzy and fell down
oh how I long for those days....
has it really been so looooooong?

Brian Hill - 2020 # 149
How long for you?
In the mellowest light of lilac hours
Dewed branches glimmer in lifefull spectre,
Nurture the sight and feed the body
Rose - clinking hushes the early morning's
Insect hustle and shuts down the micro - worlds
It is time for us to repose
Nature wreaths the mind in million lighted
Colours of youth - lasting spring, like web
It spreads through us till we are but foam of images.
JA Perkins Apr 2020
It seems there's no hope as
a dark sky overshadows the
sway of Willow branches.

The leaves shake with confusion,
but the roots hold their ground.

A warm, grey sky gently weeps
for the fate of the Willow..
And who am I but a Willow's branch?

At the mercy of wind and rain,
I was swayed, yet fastened by truth;
bending in the bloom of youth,
beaten by a grey sky's cry,
then strengthened by it's lullaby.

Who am I but merely a branch?

I am only a part of a whole.
Without roots, I'd wither and die.
Without the trunk, I'd have no place.
Nor could I grow by the light of grace..
Without rain, I am but a dry soul
rotting in the decay of arrogance.

I bow to the ground gracefully;
lest I stiffen against the powerful winds of change.

Who am I but a Willow's branch?
All the more beautiful in sadness.
Torn from the life of Your Body, I
would wither just beneath that
which brings life to my wilted leaves.
Ally Sep 2019
Your mischievous gaze
your dark brown eyes, not as shiny as they should be
tell a very sad tale
straight from your heart

I offered you an
Olive branch...

Being with your broken
soul, whilst trying
to repair my own
was just hurting us more
M Solav Jul 2019
I am a beat, I am a clock,
I am a rhythm of some sort;
I’m a carrier on a mission;
The byproduct of an invention;
A battery that is being charged
And depleted low and large.

I am a ball, I am a cell,
I am the will of higher selves;
I’m a layer of the kernel,
Flying on seat "57L";
I’m a letter that was sent to mail,
Set outbound when rings the bell.

I am a curve, I am twirl,
I am sustained motion still unfurled;
I’m necessity in the system;
Of absorption I am the emblem;
I’m a branch of fractal downward;
Of struggles past I ain't no award.

I am a beast, I am a fork,
I am a breach through inert soil;
I’m a head of the hydra snake;
Consolation in all of mistakes;
I’m the blood of the wounded;
The brain of memories faded.

I am a blink, I am a cause,
I am the storm after the pause;
I’m the pity of the angered;
Whose duties have been tempered.

I am ludicrous, I am lukewarm,
I am commitment amidst cold wars;
I’m the frontier around the form
And the earth that drowns the worm;
Of victory I am some defeat,
Accomplishment left incomplete.

I am a sin, yes I am sought,
I am a child yet to be mourned;
I’m resistance to the inevitable,
Recurrence of the unstable;
I’m the distance of departures,
The first minutes of final hours.

I am a beat, I am a clock,
I am a rhythm of some sort;
I’m a carrier on a mission,
The byproduct of an invention;
A battery that is being charged
And depleted low and large.
Written in June 2019 - on a plane.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
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