Dawn 4h

Shelter her
color her with life.
Grey eddies
the tainted disarray.

A sculpted jaw
protrudes above
our tented steeples
the cost of progress flails
with swollen eyes.

Trace it
the delicate bouquet
and discover
pure oxygen.

The blight has not reached her roots.

Inspired by: http://baxiaart.deviantart.com/art/Falling-622633613

Anchored in the ground
Little roots reach for nectar
That the rain brought down

Tiny drops swim through the pond
Rainbows dance across the lawn

This is the part of life
Where you put bricks on the past
so you can't look back
And whatever's underneath will die
This is the part of life
Where you're waiting for time to pass
Enough time
To layer on
Enough bricks
To smother
Enough roots
Of the part of you you don't want
I don't remember what I'm burying
But I've stopped asking myself
Because forgetting
is erasure
makes it easier to forgive
because no one ever did anything wrong
in the first place
Not even you
Laying down bricks with love
A foundation
To build the rest of your life
On bricks
Burying what?
I don't remember

DblNickel May 12

Nomadic traveler
No roots to grip
I won't be here long
because because
That's who I am:
A ship without a port
Dropping an anchor
But for a moment
because because
That's what it does:
Pata de perro
Laps water by tongue
Until the bowl is dry
because because
That's why it walks:
The tide rolls forever
Stretching for moon
Never can reach
because because
That's how I'm cursed.

“Pata de Perro” literally translates to “Dog’s paw”. As Mexican slang it is used to describe some one that is always wandering, nomadic or always busy.

Your hurricane heart blew into my life at an outrageous speed.

At the rate of 26 years per kiss, you blasted through my walls
and wiped out all previous heartaches
I'd ever sought shelter from.

Your wind uprooted all I have known as typical of boys
and planted the seeds of men
to show me that to love is to have true strength.

My shingles were weathered, claimed to be made
to withstand someone like you,
but at the first sight of you I ripped the nails out myself.

Yusof Asnan Apr 21

She was never one to grow wings and fly away,
She just can't leave her tree and be vulnerable,
She needed to be strong for herself,
Now she grow roots and became the tree itself.


The bird song begins
earlier than I am prepared
to hear it.
The sun has not
yet made his entrance
to this side of the world
but I feel it dawning inside me.
My leaves are strewn about,
having landed violently
at my feet last night.
My branches are sore,
having rocked
and groaned
all night long.
My trunk has grown weaker,
I am cracked
and missing a few layers,
but my roots,
they go deeper
than you could imagine,
and I will not falter.
I may sway,
lose my dead pieces
to the storm,
but I will not fall.

MC Hammered Mar 30

our celestial protector.
She cradles us in her branches and reaches
us towards the Sun. She fertilized us
as young seeds before the harvest. Feeding
us the fruits from her feet. We breathe in the oxygen
she filters through her brown barked body.
Suckle at her breasts for air.
Like our mother, we too are rooted
in soil, nourished, and nurtured by her
natural nutrition and her

disasters. She,
throws us from her
branches, her skies grow grey.
Grow angry and sad. She starts to
cry, growling, thrashing and thundering.
Her winds whip us, whirl us we weave back and forth,
trusting the roots she gave to hold us
down in our foundations.
But the ground beneath our soles start to
shake and rumble. Soaked soil from Mother’s cries, turn
to mud, and our world starts to wash us away.  
She drowns us. Mother Earth,
our terrestrial

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