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Nosipho Khanyile Jul 2018
our destination is the journey
edged with culture
curved with meticulous attention
infested with corruption
fumigated with potential
waiting to reveal itself to the world
taking time to perfect itself
because like fine wine
we don't age, we mature
into something so different
refreshing the norms
creating a new era of dimensions
a relentless spirit
perfectly flawed
oh blooming flower
a tree known by its fruits
a shackled continent
waiting for the chains of judgement
to break
freeing the truth
this is africa
Alysia Marie Aug 2016
Even a flower
Can grow from something
That was once burned to ash

                                       Alysia Marie 2016 ©
We all have the potential to grow from our previous self and bring light to a moment that was once dull
rofan Apr 2018
You get deeper in to my chest
Till you become the heart of me
I shall connect my roots with you
Till you run in my blood
And my blood runs through you
I shall put my fangs deeper in to you
and I shall burn you down
Till there is nothing left of you
Not even a memory
Or a tear
Or a Whisper to the ear
it is not someone but something
ohellobeautiful Sep 2018
no matter how hard
these winds blow and shake me
i stay  r o o t e d  with the Earth

storms exist to awake me
still one of my favorite poems i have ever written <3
Via Ricasoli Dec 2017
For every moment spent together
I feel our roots growing

                                  d                  a
 ­                                e                  n            i
                               e                d                  n
                             p                       m               t
                               e                         o      e
                                    r                       r
                                         T         t        e
                                       h    w  
                                       i        
                                 n   c       
                              e       k    
                           d           e  
                                            r
Electric sun twirls its lava skirt.
Slammed woks.
Peanuts, chilli, limes and oil
Feeding him its lunch.
Shelter to chilli cheeks and peppercorn faces.
The air can't move its obese body to the rivers for a dip.

Darkness is hard with sturdy edges.
Curtains made of invisible beads and threads hang over the night in silence.
They spill against the concrete under rough hooves and feet
For the night falls like tight heavy lids.
Dusk is a bruised tunnel of vision.

Candlelit giants blinking rapidly.
You don't speak
For the night is never empty
The silence never lonely
Stampede of restlessness surrounding
Grinning from squint to squint
Raising embraces and chance encounters
They scream loudly to frighten the dawn.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
Addison René Nov 2017
i just want to drink some tea
and go to sleep
i'm tired of
another week of
defeat

i don't even like tea

growing up seems
******
i feel dumb and
useless
full of ****
and excuses
life's weird
and i'm so
foolish

leave me out
to dry
i just don't feel
like trying
love me
like another lie
so you can leave me for
some other storyline


i don't even like you
Hadrian Veska Sep 2018
I hear the soft breeze in the branches
Feel the strong roots below my back
I am alone here but not for long
So patiently will I wait
Listening to the world breathe
Wandering in and out of thoughts
Both profound and superficial
Resting for the time that be
Until I am not alone
Dimitris Sarris Sep 2016
I've been here not long ago
every way lead me there after all.
Oh heaven you won't let me go
trapped in this illusion
manifesting this delusion.
I keep on climbing even if it hurts.
Why do anything to hear what you want
even if it's wrong.
It would be a lie to let myself forgiving.
Slowly growing my lost roots
beneath some broken wings
mending my wounds.
I see it you see it
we both feel it.
Don't give in pain
let it rain.
Dimitris Sarris Dec 2017
Sailed in seas which match the heavens
wispered secrets at a sunset
and followed the trumbling stars
the ship anchored to land green and reach
an unearthly melody that filled the air.
It was not the foaming waves
not the bird's sing
nore the leaves rustling.
And so the traveller wondered in confusion
until he met a stranger sitting at the foreland.
He did not ask where he is but from
where this music comes from.
The stranger turned and spoke.
"It's Dagda's harp and Apollo's canto
both in tune with Bragi's poem.
Now i travel home for you found yours
and so i return."
Mystic Ink Plus Apr 2018
We all flourish, where our roots are

Probably I’m a wild herb,
That makes a difference,
I flourish more if I am uprooted

I find life in the Air,
Less, under the Soil
As they are

I sync with the Air
If unfavorable, I never sync

Staying dormant
Ever after
Genre: Observational

Theme: Inspired from Robert Evans thought,” There are three sides of every story: your side, my side and the truth. And no one is lying.”
ohellobeautiful Oct 2018
i'm not sure
who planted this seed
inside all of our heads
whispering quietly

”stop feeling so much"

who made the assumption
that feelings = weakness?
because those two terms
have never been seamless

to dip into your depths
with no feelings oppressed
takes the kind of courage
most fear cant be fed

weakness evolves
from putting all of
your energy into
building up
the walls
that block
the flow of life
that was meant
to move you
further into the
depths of the you
you didn’t know
you never knew

to feel
and i mean,
to really feeeel
every ounce of this
human experience
comes with a bravery
that most resist

it breaks you apart
shakes you down
uprooting all
that’s been

to guide you
from within

to let this life
overcome you
with whatever
emotions
it may,
while being
proud of it too?

now, that
is strength

that is the
weakness
pouring
out of
you

Karijinbba Jan 4
Not all tree roots
need to be long or thick
to be strong mighty ever lasting.
trancending time and space

The strongest tallest trees
have SHORT roots tightly close interconnectedly
with many tree roots
by one amazing fact

being rooted from underneath very close to one another
Huddled in short proximity
it's how the strongest tallest trees thrive stronger live longer.
across time and space
lungs on earth for humans.

Nature teaching showing why
even poets lost in solitude
are as derooted weak trees
they shrivel and die

Here at Hello Poetry
we may willfully become stronger tightly rooted together
to grow taller stronger mightier
or perish for lack of unifying interconnectedness.
huddled root to root

I perceive a disconnection on H.P, among many poets
with thick long roots yet unable to stay connected with
one another in rampard discord  
some expecting benefits without any other concern but arrogance
and selfishness

Trusting unison powerful
indestructible succeeds interconnectedness.

Why not huddle up together
closer so noone deroots us.

i hunger for your view on this.
Nature is teacher at best
intermingling tightly
so closer in proximity
likewise
poet to poetess poem to poem
so that i may follow you
confident follow me
huddled up
root to root.
~~~~~~~~
By:Karijinbba
revised: 01-07-19
Union is power
I thank everyone who reads
very few honor me with your reposts
and i feel like a star when your own awesome impecable poetry
ignite brain storm magnificence
pure mind bending magic
i am learning from your greatness and i feel honored. In fact i learn even from those who jump the gun to judgements instead of asking me questions i am very sociable.
PEACE.
MG Dec 2018
how do you explain:
i'm the one who's broken my own heart.
years of allowing negativity into my cracks,
tolerating it's bloom.
only now trying to rip out their roots.
but they have grown like weeds.
manifested in my chest, tangled throughout my ribs.
constricting.
trying to make them love me, to make them see.
now~
trying to fall back in love with myself,
is really not that easy.
it actually hurts more than loving any one else.
because you know, more than anyone, what you're capable of.
good and bad.
but please, in my upmost hour of desperation,
im begging myself
to take myself back.
she misses you.
she needs you now more than ever.
still waiting for me to come back
em Feb 2018
I had never liked my name until i heard you say it.
Watching the syllables roll off your lips while they slip into a smile is equivalent to watching our hometown pass away through an open window,
the serene sensation of the wind blowing through my hair,
and blowing away the person i used to be.
You found the words to erase the self-portrait my brush always seemed to repaint,
no matter how hard i tried to change the ending.

When i asked you what your favourite food was, you said it was just dinner-
home cooked chicken and potatoes.
You said it reminded you of the easier days when a sunburn after a day at the beach was the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

On the night that was the very beginning of the rest of our lives,
In that moonlit cabin,
I realized i would be happy passing my days just listening to you talk.
M Solav Sep 2018
Oh it's all hanging threads,
Hanging ligaments with drops of red:
Vines without poles - flesh without bones.

Events roll out in scarlatine flashes:
Eyes in crowd flap down their eyelashes
And in silence the suspense grows strong;

The bricks are set, the façade is over,
But from within, the house still lacks a structure:
One penetrates rooms without walls.

A memory from the depth is brought up,
A storyline used to link so many dispersed dots:
Leaves are flying free as the childhood tree rots...

Oh it's all hanging threads
Hanging sources, hanging roots:
Scars over the sun revolving in loops.

And the conduit narrows down,
Leaks a single bolt of light to glow:
An empty room as throne and crown

And a thorn, pain escaping death,
A frown of estrangement in the face
Of all that's known - what's most unknown.

Spectators stare deceptively
While promises of relief are spared;
They too are suspended in the air...

Oh it's all hanging threads
Hanging loose, hanging dead;
Waiting for the artisan to ease the noose.
Written in October 2017.
peaseblossoms Sep 2018
you could maybe say
that i got lucky. i have been
a daisy all my life, heart
throbbed straight down
to the nerve endings, and always
Afraid, and Always afraid. but god
did i get lucky. and god am i buzzing blinding
all over again, with something
so much bigger than myself. so i promise

I will pull myself up
fire hydrant fierce, all the new lakes
of me waiting to spout
like a geyser. I will make
my selfish steam and my prune fingers
ready when you want them --
just another strait I swear
to vault over when it all
comes down right to it, which it
Does, and It does.
Tommy Randell Dec 2014
To loosen with my bare hands
the wide air between us
in explaining something of meaning
I almost feel
I am pulling flesh
from the living and moving moments
possible here.

It is somehow breaking
the natural order of things
to use words alone
of all viable means
in setting out the wind-waves and rivulets
of ideas internally flowing -
but I must try and get something out for once.

I circle in bad phrases
prickling with the itchiness of sharing,
I send out a few vague words
horrified and perplexed
at their translation now they are *****
knowing you too listen
and they are at last unalterable.

Deep in the brain, far back
this is my bad time
but I know where the roots go
down into me
and from the storm’s heart
perpetual agitation pumps hand in hand
with calm acceptance.
The self *****, alternately
to fan and to freeze
whatever doubts or unease are burning.
Talk travels the spaces between us
through the clear air
in the kind of silence
surviving bones may know swinging in a wind.

But I know stillness can become alive
when living mouths bring their hearts to bear -
ears can well hear
what the breath has to say,
as the eye sees
the body’s smallest noises -
face to face we are a field of listening.

The warm comes without sound.
This is only the edge of a becoming.
We are not trapped in the lips -
already we lean inward
to know of each other and to give
not words for the wind
but a dance at ease with all that flows.
Alyssa Underwood Feb 2016
God draws out
the deepest, sharpest
most tormenting pain in us
brings it straight to the surface
with raw nerves and **** roots exposed
then meets us right there in that exact place
with the tender, soothing, healing balm of His love
"I love the LORD, for He heard my voice; He heard my cry for mercy. Because He turned His ear to me, I will call on Him as long as I live. The cords of death entangled me, the anguish of the grave came over me; I was overcome by distress and sorrow. Then I called on the name of the LORD: 'LORD, save me!' The LORD is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion. The LORD protects the simplehearted; when I was brought low, He saved me. Return to your rest, my soul, for the LORD has been good to you. For you, LORD, have delivered me from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before the LORD in the land of the living."  
~ Psalm 116:1-9

~~~
Keiya Tasire Jan 11
No matter what country
No matter what race.
No matter what religion
No matter what ****** orientation.
No matter what peoples we identify with.
We are all born of the elements of the same earth.
We breathe the same air.
We all are warmed by the same sun.
We stand in awe of the same moon.
We each look up into the night sky from the land of earth.
Within each of our DNA
We hold the same markers as all of humanity.
With our roots reaching back
To the same ancestral first man
To the same ancestral first woman
To ever walk up on our beloved Earth Mother
Under sky of our Beloved Father.
Remembering a very, very old story
About the Dance of Creation.
In this dance Yah was alone.
Yah desired to share love
Yah desired to have joy.
Within a dream to share joy
Yah looked within and fell in love
with the two eyes looking back.
Yah stepping in the within
Eye to eye and arm in arm
In a whirl they turned and danced
Spinning in love with ecstasy and joy.
Two together within the embrace of love.
So so speaks the ancient story
Of the creation of the Spirits of Man.
Long before we were each
Born of the elements of the same earth.
No matter what peoples we identify with.
No matter what ****** orientation
No matter what religion
No matter what race.
No matter what universe, galaxy,
Solar system, planet, continent or place we hail from
We are all related in Love.
Dedicated to a warrior, Mo Byrne.
Lara Ozdemir Dec 2018
Breathing by breath
Each time around
Moving inward
So does the sounds
Of the voices
Taking a stand
From within my head
Saying: rise from Your bed
Grow instead
I wrote this in dedication to saying no to the demons inside.
Shadow Dragon Nov 2018
Your fingertips planted trees on me.
You left a forrest
full of life.
But with no rain
there was no healthy leafs.
So the forrest crumbled.
And I cut the tress down
for I did not wish
to have a memory of you
on my body.
Yet, roots of the forrest
remained deep beneath my skin.
And I will now forever,
if I wish or not,
have memories of your fingerprints.
BlueBird Nov 2018
All of my words are foggy and I can't seem to find the right combination, to build the truth I keep digging for. Only broken bridges come out of this mouth. They lead you over waterfalls and into dense forests, filled with trees my past has grown for me. Trees that have rooted themselves deep inside of me. Ive become so enmeshed, I cant tell where the roots end and my limbs begin.
Vanessa Gatley Nov 2018
Trunks
Rot
Escaping everything seen
Roots
Reach
Out
Overturn
Surface
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