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Hammad Oct 20
The Fall is upon us
My Dear!
It's when the birds leave
for their new home...
So you may flee
as well
and I will watch you leaving
like a stubborn tree.
❝ i am a dead tree
   that kids fill with carvings of 'i hate yous'

   sticky webs of old lies and deception
   clings around my withered branches
   that sit dead and blind my sight

   my roots are watered
   by polluted streams while
   acid rain runs through my veins
   like a fracking well with oily leaks  
   that causes me to choke
   and cough up bad blood

   angry winds pass though me
   and i stand engulfed with stillness
   for i am afraid the slightest of movement
   may cause me my demise

   i remember the days
   when i was but a young tree

   i provided home for the birds
   and shade for the people
   to protect them from the sun's raging heat
   but now i am useless
   and hated
   and left alone

   but lo and behold
   i see my farmer striding towards me
   with an axe in his hands to chop me down

   he delivered blows to my body
   that led me into bits and pieces
   to be thrown in the fire

   i smiled and thought;
   at least i was still of use for warmth
   during the cruelty of cold days

   but as i fell from once my might
   i had glimpsed on a little green
   a sapling growing from the earth
   reaching upon the skies

   in this i had learned
   life and death go hand in hand
   that from ashes unto ashes
   and to dust we must return

   but alas it is not the end
   as for the end signals a new beginning
   and as so does chances of a new life ❞
I sat under a tree,
it felt like sunshine,
it felt like smiles from him.
I sat under that tree every day in the summer,
come fall it didn't feel the same,
come winter it was cut down,
and come spring I planted a new one.
I feel like if I were to pick out life choices, it would be me, as the little bookish girl.

Beside me stood a young oak.
Although I'm looking at him,
he swirled his branches
and his body cracked
to encourage me to enjoy the leaves falling
that would drop out —
in the midday of October.

I picked the book,
thoroughly flipping the pages
while I lick my lips
tuck my hair out;
peered on the white sandy sky.
Lit up the spark in my heaving chest —
in beneath those pages.

I wonder, though,
is life all inside the book?
While I flip through the portal,
why do I keep on walking
the same road
if an anonymous poet
wrote in his book
that a man shall not follow
one's path?
But their beliefs and energy
that goes beyond
and falls in deep?

Then a dead crow suddenly
rocked its way through me
while its side bitten and decaying,
the distinction I have with its life,
brought me back to these pages —
and words scrambled;
alive and beautiful.

I feel like if I were to pick out life choices, it would be me, as the little bookish girl.

At midday in October, once, there was a girl. Her hair swayed and leaves rushing to get her attention — the little bookish girl was alive again for a while.
We've all been dreaming to feel and live like this. Now, read that book and wander. Wander through those portals and write.
Laokos Oct 12
just thinking back
my twenties and cracking
smile for every tree I hollowed
to make room for a new universe.

in my thirties, I laugh at windows
on top of Mercury's head as
           Venus covers her mouth and hides again.

The lemon tree
Only upward it knew
Hung yellow flavours
Savoury sour its fruits
On twigs and branches
And thorns too
With a zing and zest for life
Blessed, it grew
Inspired by a lemon tree
Noura Oct 3
Imagine they cut off your limbs
Hand and legs, all gone
But you’re a starfish
So it’s alright, they’ll grow back.
No wait, you’re a tree.
Once they cut you,
You lose a piece of yourself.
Those broken remains,
They use them
They use you, to build houses,
To build a warm space,
To protect them from the harsh storm.
If you were a starfish though,
Your limbs will start to grow
Slowly, but surely. And suddenly,
You’ll be your old self again,
Nothing more, nothing less.
A star in the sea
Or a tree in the wild,
Which would you be?
Adi N Oct 2
What you exhale, we inhale,
a transaction that costs nothing
but one that keeps us living.

We have been busy exploiting,
So keep forgetting
that life cannot exist without you.

This forgetfulness could end us,
but you will rise from the ashes again
to nurture life in the future.
Its time now or else it will be too late for humans. Each and everyone must show their gratitude to the natural world and live in harmony with it.
A tired leaf
hanging above the grass,
enjoyed a final sway.
And falling down
onto the ground,
he softly whispered "Hey",

"So long my friends.
  I've loved you each.
This life was strange and kind"

And with the wind
his leafy friends
waved him solemnly,
As the end of the scene, finished the play, I went up to the tree and quietly said
Me- "I'm sorry for your loss"
Tree-"Don't worry" "It's fine"
Sadness only takes place in a place called your mind.
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