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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
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  
                                 n   c       
                              e       k    
                           d           e  
It’s  so hard to pull  out  a  memory by the  roots

they often break off  like dandelions beneath the ground,

becoming  perennial as sunlight,  deeply  entrenched

in our substance; the marrow of truth down in the bones

surely impossible to disentangle without a trace
Time is the progenitor of  deeply  burrowing  truths

sown from even smallest sprouted seeds of being

Drilling down through the bedrock core fractals

becoming indigenous as the blood in the veins

Deep-rooted artifact reminders, lamenting oft strives to forget

trying a lifetime to unremember ―  shed the masking skin

**** out the source of the unanswerable questions;

to  uproot  the metastatic  roots  of an enduring  ache
written by:   harlon rivers ... February 2018
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
Hadrian Veska Sep 11
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
harlon rivers Feb 28
Feigning love grows malignant within

Lethal roots don’t always ache

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.
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