Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
And when I was asked
What mother smells like?

Mud
Nothing else
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Rooting
O, Little Root of a Dream
by Paul Celan
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O, little root of a dream
you enmire me here;
I’m undermined by blood―
made invisible,
death's possession.

Touch the curve of my face,
that there may yet be an earthly language of ardor,
that someone else’s eyes
may somehow still see me,
though I’m blind,

here where you
deny me voice.

Paul Celan (1920-1970) was a Romanian Jew who wrote poems in German. He survived the Holocaust, despite the loss of his mother and father, to become one of the major German-language poets of the post–World War II era. His parents' deaths and the horrors of the Holocaust have been called the "defining forces" in Celan's poetry.

Keywords/Tags: Paul Celan, Holocaust poems, Holocaust poetry, Shoah, German, translation, root, dream, blood, death, face, eyes, blind, sight, seeing, vision, voice, voiceless, silent, silenced, ardor, love, passion, desire, Germany, abandoned, racism, antisemitism, injustice, brutality, genocide, ethnic cleansing, World War II, world conflicts
Mark Feb 3
There is a storm coming,
And no; you can't run or hide.

You'd better tether
Your soul to your bones,
Like sea-battered sails
Flapping against a
Wind-splintered mast.

They say failing to prepare
Is preparing to fail.
It's true here,
For in inertia lies
The seeds of fear.
That much is clear.

So, be ready.
When the storm comes,
Plant yourself:
As deep as an ancient root,
******* sustenance
From the darkest depths, and
As strong as the oldest mountain,
A sentinel watching the world,
Smiling in its own quiet way.

Time itself will come visit you,
But hopefully not too often.
When it does just smile at it, too,
And I promise it will smile back
Now and again, from time to time.
Nikkita Jan 25
From ground
Silent and bound
To heaven
Wishful and haven

Cradle of everything
That's left to think
Unscathed by time
Still reeks of thyme

There the gods reside
To be saved from thunder
There the gods abide
To be saved from plunder

Catching life
Of lonely beings
One big hive
Full of meanings
aj kamari Jan 4
will your heart belong to me..
or shall I always long for it?

will fate push us together-
as some predestined prophecy-
or will it repulse us far apart-
as some gruesome curse from nature?

will you leave like a blade caught in the wind,
or will you stay planted like a root in my love?

will you look me in the eye and say those three words-
holding me close so I hear your heart and smell your hair-
or will you turn and hide your beautiful eyes from mine?

will you stay for me..
or will you leave for you..?
I don't think I could fathom the feeling of being left once again.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2019
Thursday, October 27, 2016
2:21 PM

Are they one thing like
We have one right hand?
Trow now how
Could this dude/guy/man/fellow/fella/idiot/creep/*******/son
Of assorted things, I've been called them all,
How can he dispute the scholar who declares patience
And
Perseverance
To be perfectly
Inter change able?
Ye,
Yet get this
Right,
Patience and perseverance are two
Separate ideas/realities/states/things.
One takes effort.
One takes grace.
That scholar perseveres.
I wait.
A seed, I sowed in me, a while back, which fell  and grew in stony ground...
Robby Nov 2019
Am I a bad guy if I break the rules
I don’t like being told what not to do
Let me learn … let me experience

Your laws are meaningless to me
I will find the loopholes
I will exploit the flaws in your logic

I can’t make myself not
It’s my compulsion
My need to wear the black hat

I will sneak in and see your secrets
Your protections can’t stop me
I will root you if I desire
Writing is my therapy but nerdy computer stuff pays my bills. This is my effort to put the two together.
Next page