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Amy H Jul 2016
this limb I’m on
may snap
and from here the ground looks mean.
I didn’t climb here
by myself you know.
but I’m anxious to come down.
if I jump will you duck
or catch me when I fall?
your arms decide my fate.
so how will this go?
my heart has gone ahead.
will you please catch the rest?
these limbs don't bend
to comfort me
but yours could.
the one in power always stands on the ground
Nelize Jun 2016
when they see this steadfast tree
rising up with strength and spree
trees that see this then realize
but choose to hush and wave their lies
with moving arms and gossip leaves
they choose to blind themselves with ease
but I, this steadfast tree, can not defy
the Blessing descending from the Sky
to honor loneliness and pain
and reward the life I gain
through perseverance and visions
purpose driven through regions.
The Olive tree is a remarkable symbol within the Bible. I made a painting and was inspired to write about it as well. How our lives and the perseverance we have will reward us and honor God one day!
Almiel Jun 2016
Life
Is a tree
Is a bird
Life
Is a flow, circulation of air
To be free
To be more
A bit more beyond what we can bear

Life
Is divine
Is a gift
Life
Is a punishment for an unknown sin
We drift blind
Through the rifts
Through the not enough breaths we took in
Janoortje Jun 2016
she sits behind the tv
watching in the living room
surrounded by her family
with empty eyes
the only things she says
are empty lies:
“I'm okay, I'm alright,
don't worry 'bout me”
she was in her own fight
and as a reality show plays
in her mind she thinks
of all the different ways
and with the morning light
she takes a chair and a rope
having chosen on one of them
to the tree in the garden
to make a final flight.
Colm Jun 2016
Lonesome tree,
Left to stand in a field of green.

You are as free as free can be, at least as much as a tree can be.

You’re the sole survivor of a proud oak line,
And the tallest timber I’ve ever seen in this area of the countryside.

Only you have lived long enough to see the red sunrise.
The lidless moon and the eye of the storm sent by the sea.

It baffles me, that you a tree, would watch over a farmer and his family.
Your rightful and natural enemy, who pushes the plow beneath your feet.

Surrounded by a society which cuts down all of your company,
Just to build and sow with lesser seeds.  

And yet you, the mightiest of trees, refuse to pack up root and leave?
Refuse to let yourself be twisted by the progress of humanity.

Why are you doing this?

I guess no greater love exists,
Than to share your shade with your enemies.

Thank you for this, oh lonesome tree,
You are a symbol of life to me.
Visit me on Poetfreak to see the actual tree that inspired this poem.
K Balachandran Jun 2016
An original creation, that's what  you are
in vibrant colors nature carefully assembled,
as you sashayed through your time,till here
now all across the front page one can see you
arousing  pleasure that moves me deeply,
done in bold sweeps of a brush immersed in joy
making onlookers stand agape, thrilled
mumbling inanities as none has the grasp
of the quicksilver aesthetics that rules you.

And I, obscure , at the best like a crop circle
done in the secret hours after midnight,
or a cryptic mural on a dull wall, long past it's prime
doodled by an interplanetary traveler gone astray,
a drawing in grey fading slowly in to oblivion,
yet to be deciphered is the benediction,
it carries from light years far away,
it will be gone soon as the light from galaxies far
want to make it their own, little by little each night
Am I not transient  and  to be forgotten soon?

But you are steadfast and adamant
very rooted in your reasoning
sprung from a center devine, we both
claim together.
                         "Am I not a woman and lover first?"
Your eyes, gleam, exuding  a timelessness that speaks to me.
"I would only dream of lying naked under your
sweet heaving heaviness, to receive the nectar,
the transient ecstasy that gifts me the precious seed
that'd grow to heights immortal,on the bank of the milky way"
Pauline Morris Jun 2016
Poem of a wonderful place where many books was read.                      





                            The
                        Mas­sive
                  Hundred year
              Old tree shaded all
         That came to sit and rest
   It had five hundred limbs and
Leaves to many to count, at the top
                        Lived a
                        Monkey
                        Girl her
                        Hair all
                        Full of
                        Curls!!
jamie Jun 2016
rain drops on green plant leaves
cloudy grey skies
thunder  and lightning
all happening around you
while you sleep under
your pillow fort

sun shining through trees
that are high above you and me
a bee buzzing around
looking for nectar in flowers
of pinks and purples

a small sail boat
drifting away in the deep blue sea
fishes swim by
unaware of the humans above
on dry land

silent walks alone in the woods
just you, me, and nature
birds soar and  land in a nest
feeding it's young

holding your hand
kissing your lips
hugging your torso
smiling and laughing together
and maybe some other things too

life can go by quickly
so take time to admire
those whom you love
sights that make you want to explore
and just experience things
you haven't before
I wrote this because sometimes you just need to remember the things in life that make you happy and are the reasons you're here and living.
irinia Jun 2016
"my heart, all of me, this tree
turning its leaves
one by one in the wind

fluttering rustling with the call
of your closed lips

mere light can move it
a touch of light
can make it sing

the shell of our lives capturing
the tatters of a song
: a torn veil, the unraveled loincloth
of a wandering god

these sharp caressing tatters
tongues
of a song"

Ioana Ieromin, from *The Lens of a Flame
Jessi Fusilier Jun 2016
I will grow
When inside of me there is a storm that knows no bounds. The winds of my soul and the rains of my mind mending in the face of tragedy
I will grow
When my skin is like dirt and my eyes the color of soot. Every inch of me is crawling with the desire to be pure
I will grow
When the flowers inside my lungs have rotted, their petals crumbling into my airway and begging to be coughed out
I will grow
When the soles of my feet have turned to stones and they drag across the pavement, creating sparks the color of my demons
I will grow
When my blood is the color of water yet my heart continues to beat the same rhythm it always has
I will grow
When I lose my spine at the thought of reality and take every chance to sit in solitude, avoiding the familiar
I will grow
My roots reach down to the core, rich in minerals and scalding hot
So that my leaves can reach to depths inside me I could only reach alone
and forever I will grow
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