Mars 1d

Lately the world is different
Everyday I am changing
But here I sit
How I always sit

How on Earth to be confident
When your mind is changing
I am shaken
Emotion stirred
So here I sit
How I always sit

With no hope but to awaken
And filter out the absurd

Truth leaks from your fingertips
Shadows spewing from your cracked lips
I hold out my hands to catch it all
Let it go, darling, let it fall

Roots of nightmares reach down deep
Show through your thickest layers,
Make your knees go weak
I open up my arms to catch you,
Guard you from the dark around you
I sing into your soul,
Let it bleed

Let it heal,
Let it bleed,
Let it crumble
At your feet
Let it go,
Let it breathe
Until you feel

She stands tall.
Shaken by the regime - all the way to a fall.
Still standing firm in her roots,
striving against the cabinet in suite.

She stands tall.
Her roots being hacked at and poisoned,
yet she does not fall.

She does not fall.
Insults hit her heart,
yet she does not begin to stall,
but her heart begins to fall.

She does not fall.
Now she stands taller
like an elegant self-conscious queen,
but with the heart of a mother that no one has ever seen.

Slowly breaking,
She falls.

The abuse has become too much.
Just to name a cause;
It was you with your helpful, root unearthing touch.

RIP Mama Afrika.

Emily Austin Sep 11

Old Memories are nestled safe in the Womb of our Heritage
Growing Roots in their Nurturing vessel
Until their Birth wherein they are forgotten.
They take their Vacation in our younger children, Brothers, Sisters
Who we have Provided the Memories of our long ago Childhood
Of the Toys, the Rivalries, the Responsibilities, the doting boys, and playground cliques
Their Adorable, albeit Tiny distracted heads may forget the days of our lives, but the passion they heard in our voices will never leave them.
Just as my mothers never left mine
Tell your stories. Tell them quick, before your memories are born from you and are forgotten from this world
They are irreplaceable, precious times that no one else can ever experience themselves and they must live on as precious stories.
Kept forever within the family walls of love and care

This poem came from a prompt which told me to use a list of words to write a poem. For the most part these words are capitalized.

I feel I am unable to speak
Having planted flowers in my mouth
Their roots reach down my throat
Finding the pot of soil in my heart
Joining hands they intertwine
Forming clouds of sweetest, purest tears
Raining endlessly into my hollow stomach
My little soul down there holds an umbrella
Hibernating for the longest winter

Sara Jones Aug 20

Maybe one day soon,
I will cut my wrists wide open,
And find flowers growing in my veins.
Taking root deep within my heart,
Branching outward, trying to gouge out my eyes,
Curling around my eardrums,
Around my spine.
Blossoming in my temples,
And in my fingers.
Stems wrapping around my throat,
Making it hard to breathe.

With fuzzy vision, choking breathes, trembling hands,
Maybe i can manage to cut them out.
Carve up my hands until i can reach inside and rip them out.
Dig into my chest and tear them from the roots.
Maybe i can stop the pulsating, as the flowers try to make me beautiful
Try and make me like them
Try and kill me
Like we try to kill them

Dawn W Jul 21

My ancestors
the pencils
in my hands
I am drawing
them now,
the lines
in my face
I sketch
them out
every day.


Paul Jones Dec 2015

The branches quiver,     clinging to cold roots.
Strength surfaces from     the sinuous deep.

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