"taproots" poems - Hello Poetry

Because of you I'm all here Buried all the pains Dug a new chapter Imported new feelings Seeded hope Exported all the grievances Took hold of the promises Watered the heart Cementing the broken pieces together Laminated the smile And on the wall I nailed it Began a tireless journey Wishing for the best Trusting the eyes Enjoying the sweet melody A lullaby I need for a lifetime Remember those days? Acting silly and stupid The ignorance we entertained The confusion we embraced Embroidering the hatred An the mist of pain we got lost Turning our backs on each other Anger reddening our eyes Silence that became a graveyard Silence that almost murdered our hearts Intoxicating our feelings Destroying the taproots of our future I remember that days Buried now Now I smile For we hold it In our hands we are molding it Together moistening the clay That long ago cracked With no hope of being a palp again We have it We repainted the wall A new dawn of hope A beginning of a new chapter The chills of winter all gone Summer says hello With its rain we will puddle In the mud together Yes the mud of love we will ***** ourselves For we buried the past

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Oct 8, 2021

Oct 8, 2021 at 5:32 AM UTC

racheroo

BECAUSE OF YOU

Because of you I'm all here Buried all the pains Dug a new chapter Imported new feelings Seeded hope Exported all the grievances Took hold of the promises Watered the heart Cementing the broken pieces together Laminated the smile And on the wall I nailed it Began a tireless journey Wishing for the best Trusting the eyes Enjoying the sweet melody A lullaby I need for a lifetime Remember those days? Acting silly and stupid The ignorance we entertained The confusion we embraced Embroidering the hatred An the mist of pain we got lost Turning our backs on each other Anger reddening our eyes Silence that became a graveyard Silence that almost murdered our hearts Intoxicating our feelings Destroying the taproots of our future I remember that days Buried now Now I smile For we hold it In our hands we are molding it Together moistening the clay That long ago cracked With no hope of being a palp again We have it We repainted the wall A new dawn of hope A beginning of a new chapter The chills of winter all gone Summer says hello With its rain we will puddle In the mud together Yes the mud of love we will ***** ourselves For we buried the past

47

There’s a place where it’s always the daytime Where the sun never moves through the sky Though I’m sure there’s a logical reason Pray, permit me to not explain why So abundantly verdantly fruitful Is the flora that smothers the ground That the floor is a tangle of taproots And the soil can seldom be found The canopy merges and mingles As it fights with itself for the light So the trunks hold a desolate vigil In a world of perpetual night Its inhabitants skulk in the shadows With unblinking and baleful eyes Eating only what falls from the darkness Just the dead or the soon to demise

0

Apr 3, 2015

Apr 3, 2015 at 6:58 AM UTC

ben-jones

Day Begets Night

There’s a place where it’s always the daytime Where the sun never moves through the sky Though I’m sure there’s a logical reason Pray, permit me to not explain why So abundantly verdantly fruitful Is the flora that smothers the ground That the floor is a tangle of taproots And the soil can seldom be found The canopy merges and mingles As it fights with itself for the light So the trunks hold a desolate vigil In a world of perpetual night Its inhabitants skulk in the shadows With unblinking and baleful eyes Eating only what falls from the darkness Just the dead or the soon to demise

16

Wakeful zero, peerless March, longbow that bears the seasons’ arch, when mist and windstorms pelt the blank slates of cold-stupored trees. Do I wake up yet? Dare I to unfreeze? they ponder, short of language, brains abuzz in taproots, dormant xylem filling phylum with a flash of namefulness past gray despair— who grows? What draws them there, gathered before they sprouted in the epoch mire of waste that feeds them, nurture dense distraction from the trod-upon. Stay put! They rest a lot upon your back, from holding nests to lightning’s crack— yet time forgets you. Hashtagged, color-marked you’re not, a name once only March forgot now baffles subjects of a sheltered, sweaty throne. Good thing you hold your own whate’er they call you. Naming stirs you from the sleep you keep, six thousand nicknames ere you rest again. And man, forget you as he may, looks to your silent cue to stay, or migrate to some panicked place you never knew. What came before was rough— you’ll grow through people, too.

0

Nov 29, 2019

Nov 29, 2019 at 3:04 PM UTC

rausmend

When the Trees Choose Their Name

Wakeful zero, peerless March, longbow that bears the seasons’ arch, when mist and windstorms pelt the blank slates of cold-stupored trees. Do I wake up yet? Dare I to unfreeze? they ponder, short of language, brains abuzz in taproots, dormant xylem filling phylum with a flash of namefulness past gray despair— who grows? What draws them there, gathered before they sprouted in the epoch mire of waste that feeds them, nurture dense distraction from the trod-upon. Stay put! They rest a lot upon your back, from holding nests to lightning’s crack— yet time forgets you. Hashtagged, color-marked you’re not, a name once only March forgot now baffles subjects of a sheltered, sweaty throne. Good thing you hold your own whate’er they call you. Naming stirs you from the sleep you keep, six thousand nicknames ere you rest again. And man, forget you as he may, looks to your silent cue to stay, or migrate to some panicked place you never knew. What came before was rough— you’ll grow through people, too.

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