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Odd Odyssey Poet May 2022
Mmmm....

The oak is strong; as it must be from cutting words,
Tough skin and brave,
Calm handed and determined,
Bright smile and focused,
Wise eyes and ownership; life does require this.

You are strong—but not like gods,
You are strong—but not like machines,
You are strong—but not like currencies,
You are stronger when you choose to...

Grow in the winds, rooted in time,
And fruitful of a cooling love under shade.

I am a Great oak.
neth jones May 2022
scurry
out of its' tree
a squirrel in the rain
runs low                      
                  just like a rat
cuts across the concrete
manic for something
out of its tree
scurry
Robert Ronnow May 2022
Late April and only
coltsfoot—Tussilago farfara—breaking leaf litter.
Our daffodils, peonies and crocuses
are also making signs.

April is the cruelest month, I forget why.
A sweet slow Spring
no sudden changes
each leg and leaf unfolds deliberately. You can't miss it.

New York City's spring rushes like a yellow cab
into summer. One day leaves are wet,
next they’re leather. I prefer this slow dance,
birds mating on the sky, peepers evolving into frogs.

Repairs take weeks or months. Septic,
garage door, cracked windshield, clean windows,
build bridge, buy land, rake leaves off erosion control,
cut wood, prune lilac, paint lawn chairs.

More carefully inspect, identify, the insect
of the week, a fly with an ant’s body
that skirts the grass and falls in drinks.
Look more closely! It will be gone in a few days!

Then it will be the time of moths or fireflies,
mosquitoes and wasps. Mud road,
red-winged blackbird. The slashing stream
topples old trees. My legs hurt.
LC Apr 2022
I jump into a handstand,
flipping my world onto its head.
the tree dangles from the earth
like my feet in the air.
my hands seize the grass
as I attempt to hold on.
so I reunite with the ground,
and my hands release their burdens.
Escapril Day 29! Prompt: inversion.
This was an interesting prompt! I would love to see how you all interpret this poem and prompt. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.
SøułSurvivør Apr 2022
On the hill Golgotha
there, planted, was a tree,
Soaking up a Man's life blood
The blood that made us free.

It was planted by the Man
In the hill, a wooden stake
He had to drag it halfway up
His life it would then take.

A horror to be witnessed
By a roaring crowd
Round "The Skull" they cursed the man
Their hatred was his shroud.

But the man said nothing
Though everything He heard.
He heard all the cursing
But he said not a word.

He laid down his arms and legs
Quietly on the cross
He fully knew all pain He'd feel
Aware of the full cost.

A crown of thorns upon His head
Blood and sweat were in His eyes
He drank vinegar and gall
While he heard the cursing cries.

There were two other men on trees
Who went to die up there
One met the Man in Paradise
The other met despair.

The Man beat Satan on that day
Beat him at his game!
He tore the Veil twixt us and God
Jesus was His name.

Christ died that you and I might live
Yes, He died for you and me!
He laid down his life that day
On "The Skull" and the tree.


SoulSurvivor
Write of Passage
2022
Lou Alpha Apr 2022
It rained outside,
Me sheltered beneath a bridge.
I took a look around
And saw a tree up on a ridge.
It stood solely, solemn there,
The tree itself already downed;
Cut and brought away,
At this thought I frowned.
I let my eyes go on
And raised them to the sky.
Gray and dark and cold
Looked at those clouds high.
With tranquilizing drips
Fell the heavy rain
As if it would weep
For that poor tree‘s pain.
There were many of us
Who sheltered ourselves there.
The trunk all exposed outside,
I thought it wasn‘t fair.
It was a freezing day
But I was, as always, not cold.
I stood there, listening,
To a bird that sung so deeply woed.
It was narrow there,
But if I had been alone,
I would have stayed for an eternity
Thinking of my beloved ones.
This tree yonder, I thought,
It must have hosted once birds that used to sing.
Now it‘s gone, and the birds will be, one day, too.
And that, I thought, is a sad thing.
Wrote this one for a task in our English lessons.
I rather liked it, so I decided to publish it here.
LC Apr 2022
her heart soars straight over cloud nine
when she holds the number seven to her chest.
her fingers are adorned by five golden rings
and she trusts in the holy trinity.
she follows the partridge to the pear tree,
and her eyes bore into mine,
expecting me to follow her every step,
but I can only stand and watch.
Escapril Day 11! Prompt: an odd number of...
Here is how I incorporated the prompt into my poem. I hope you enjoy it!
Panda Boy Mar 2022
There’s this holly tree
That can imitate
Its shape to
That of a Christmas tree,
And every time I can’t help but state
‘Doesn’t that tree look like it wants to be
A Christmas tree?’
And all year round,
My co-workers laugh politely.
annh Jun 2019
Our initials chiselled,
With a crown cork bottle cap,
Into the trunk of our favourite tree,
Will the world wonder in time to come,
Whatever happened to you and me?
Steve Page Feb 2022
Planting -
a memory retention
an attempt at reparation
a small mitigation
an intrinsic notion of good
a wooden blessing
a happy healing
- a tree
Rift off the words of John Connell, speaking on radio 4's A Point of View 20.2.22
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