"unearth" poems
Lie within chaos, and create comfort
In visions of endless love.
Riding slowly on the crest of a morning fling, and flutter,
The body stutters
Like a street dancer.
Shine in different directions
And end the yearning
For a love of creativity
By stripping off
And darting
Into a sea of uncertainty,
with a sense of
Unimaginable lust for what keeps you
Ticking like a sturdy clock.
Find the rhymes that combine
With what lies inside the mind,
To stumble upon the future pleasure,
That you unearth with delight,
As you wonder.
Inspiration is born out of desire.
Fuel to fire the birth of creation.
The mind quakes for a taste
Of the cake, that is blessed with greatness.
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 9:23 PM UTC
A*ll the praises
Sweet sugary words
need to be ignored
To unearth the truth*.
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 1:10 PM UTC
He began with all living things
On the first day of anti-creation
Killing all; be they beggars or kings
No judgment just pure negation
On the second day lights went out
There was no longer night nor day
Only darkness was present throughout
Not a shadow not a tinge of grey
All this darkness destroyed vegetation
Photosynthesis ceased to take place
Everything was beyond devastation
Gasping and lacking in grace
The fourth day destroyed solid ground
He made sure every rock all the stones
Would sink and not ever be found
No one would ever unearth old bones
On the fifth day the clouds were unmade
Rain reunited the sea with the sky
In a marvelously heavy cascade
So the second last day went by
On the last day he reversed creation
Of Heaven and Earth in one blow
It was much easier than damnation
And God sat there and enjoyed the show.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 10:27 AM UTC
I want to compel,
all the people to tell,
of their travels,
their hardships, b
and times that went well.
The love that was shared,
and hate that was bared.
Is a part of your life,
if you truly cared.
Twas fear
that berated the souls of the earth.
With pain contemplated,
the flame lost its hearth.
But when claims no one stated,
begin to unearth.
The stains we created,
start losing their worth.
For what is fear without worries to fuel it? Darkness may make it,
but governments mule it.
Realize,
this fear isn't real,
and misinformation,
is all you've been fed.
Then you'll start to ponder,
is this life even real?
Is there any legitimacy,
in all the things that they've said?
There is nothing hiding
in your closet or bed.
And there are less evil people,
than in the news that you've read.
This idea was created,
so they wouldn't be blamed.
But you won't be jaded,
you cannot not be tamed.
The people that faded,
that still are unnamed.
You fight for their memory,
cause they'd do the same.
You Stand for their ideals,
And keep them all close.
Feel all of the feels,
cheerful or morose.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 10:03 PM UTC
A widespread condition
related to nutrition
is lactose intolerance
that is in essence
the inability to digest and assimilate
the milk sugar-lactose-the substrate
that is acted upon by lactase-
the specific enzyme
over a period of time.
This may happen suddenly
and generally
at any age most unexpectedly.
Lactose intolerance
is caused by the absence
of the enzyme lactase
that breaks down lactose
to the simple sugars-
glucose and galactose.
The condition may be
secondary, congenital,
or developmental.
Secondary lactose intolerance
invariably has its occurrence
related to a gastrointestinal infection
and its disappearance
is linked to the causative factor’s correction.
This type of intolerance-
(certainly a nuisance)
is reversible
if we are a bit careful.
Congenital lactose intolerance,
an inherited form of intolerance,
is a rare genetic abnormality
that one can unearth
soon after an infant’s birth.
This need not cause any fear
as it lasts only half a year.
Developmental lactose intolerance
also known as primary intolerance
is one wherein the enzyme synthesis
is progressively less
during childhood
and this persists into adulthood.
Gita Ashok
24/10/2011, 2 pm
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 4:58 AM UTC
Terrorism has mushroomed
all across the world.
Greenery here is not less,
some terror must be unfurled.
I 've heard that some desi
terror outfit has taken birth.
More shadowy than shadow,
their secrets difficult to unearth.
Help is required from security
agencies of developed land.
There they lock up terrorists for
years without trial on remand.
They've trained dogs to smell
terrorists before they become one.
Our country is developing fast,
soon it will be second to none.
Full use of the cyberspace
this local foxy terror group makes.
In this virtual world whose
identity is real? whose fake?
This tricksy group makes
bombs sophisticated, smart.
It targets selected only,
suddenly before they can depart.
But few unintended ones died in blast,
must be suicide bombers, Indeed!
Terrorists don't understand political
equations, what is the need?
Now our Police catches
terrorists just minutes after the blast.
Their must be some-kind of relief
for citizens shocked, aghast.
My little brother eats my head,
wants to catch a tiger alive.
Jocularly I advised it is animal dangerous,
flesh and bone it can rive.
Instead we can catch a cat and
with continuous torture and grill
we can make it confess to be a tiger,
with third degree surely it will.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
‘Twas during inner turmoil that a certain yearning arose
Whispers of breakage reaching deeper as time goes
From the disillusionment of reality it was forged
Of seething rage the desires hunger gorged
In following certain conformities felt like being a prisoner
The will to resist the motions of many being aimed to muster
To not be like a tree that has to be cut or uprooted just to move
To be driven by reasons that to only ones viewpoint can behoove
Looking at another view of the coming uncertainty
As a pathway to many possibilities with regards to unpredictability
That stopping a tragedy is sometimes not the thing to do
Lest one forgets that the phoenix must burn down to rise anew
Or that Ragnarok is followed by a great rebirth
Who can know what revelations a raging flood might unearth?
Being lost might as well be the way to find an elusive longing
The remedy to the Anhedonia closely and ominously looming
When being chained to the rhythm just compares to an inner futile feeling
Knowing that a greater horizon is missed by the act of settling
A bet on the odds that epiphany might be found in whatever form
To behold serendipity actually being brought by the coming inner storm
In using the great idleness to plan the restoring of a balance
And to see clearly without the feeling of rushing pressure and turbulence
The path and pace may change to the deeper quest not yet ceased
In bringing forth the long sought betterment through a cataclysmic release.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 12:32 AM UTC
The carpet is frayed in the hallway
And the nails along the walls are facing upwards
As reminders that any attempt to
Unearth the secrets swept beneath them
Will result in ****** hands
And the closet door in the bathroom
Is hanging off the hinges
From the time your stepmother tried
To hide her boyfriend in there
And your father threw it open
As a reminder that closets
Are cliché places to keep skeletons
And the red smear beside the toilet
Is the result of your father's fists
Breaking blood vessels and skin
As a reminder that even ghosts
Can leave behind stains
And the glass window in the bedroom is splintered
From the time your father had a nightmare
And thought the house was on fire
As a reminder that sometimes
We burn from the inside
And there's a hole in your bedroom wall
From the time your brother put his fist through it
As a reminder that walls are the only things that stand between
Yourself and every version of yourself that
You've tried to hide within them.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
Is it my body you wish to plant
Your flag & lay claim to
Looking for buried treasure
Hoping to unearth riches
Beyond your wildest imagination
Trying to discover what men before
You have failed to possess
Rummaging through what used
To be a Holy Temple
A place of innocence
Unfortunately,those men before you
Stole every ounce of that
There is nothing left of me here...
I Am But A Hollow Shell
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 8:13 AM UTC
She loves me
She loves me not
You are the sunflower basking in the light
Whistling in the wind
Rising each day
She loves me
She loves me not
How could you pick the petals off of something so beautiful?
Unearth a living thing from the ground and slowly torture it with each pluck
She loves me
She loves me not
She loves me!
Like the sunflower loves the big sun even after it has been dug up
Even after its color has been thrown to the ground with each-
She loves me, she loves me not
You are my sunflower
I’m sorry I pick on you
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
muse
you were just a page
i kissed you with words
now you're a beautiful poem
intrinsic compliment making my fingertips blush
intriguing like a new word
she told me to make up my mind
i started thinking about her mascara
leaking under the surface of her skin
hidden under broken wings
i knew i had to unearth her soul to find the bottom of her heart
i've always wanted to ask you how does it feel living life like a canvas?
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 10:54 AM UTC
the morning sky
performs a hot dance of rain.
ever-growing lime washes away,
white and sour mistaken
by some noses as
aromatics.
a season
of ever-ending frost
absent from windows
and misty
misty
journey
through the rain
without an umbrella.
rain jilts
its luscious sun-lover
behind clouds.
it beheads drops into
the thin morning air
only to be crushed
by the sidewalk.
this excites the worms
who unearth themselves
like fishing-bait zombies.
the worms are then eaten
by the birds who brave
the rain and the slick
sidewalk, once baptized,
now eats their ****
I step in a puddle
with my rain boots.
there are holes in their
heels, and I feel
my skin start to crinkle.
I think of you
for the first time in sky water
unsubmerged
docked
landed
and lean in
to the liquid veil.
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
The formulae for well being
is found in those memories,
a preparedness to unearth
yesterday's yearbooks;
which releases those far flung controls of analogue,
resurrecting belt driven
record players
to play Starbuck and Brothers Johnson
reviving '76,
mentally speeding on pristine motorways,
buzzing by on a chevy corvette
humming to the suggestive "Afternoon Delight"
vying with your Radio's antenna.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 7:05 AM UTC
This is not about you.
This is not about
the transmutation
of your jail celled mind
wrapped in self-help
and cellophane.
This is not about
your new found
discovery
discovering me
and my afflictions
according to the
white man’s diction
a dictation
of my past
extracted
and examined
under the microscopic
power of time.
This is not about
your self-defined
enlightenment
when you made
a deal to unearth
the truth of HeLa
coated in dust
covered particles
of HeLa
on your nightstand
and I laid
in a grave
unmarked.
This is not about
my big lips
and thick hips
under ***** covers
running a sweat
fever on my thighs
shaking feet in stirrups
and the pain was rich
after a tight pinch
and I didn’t know
what part of me
had been snipped
to grow cold
and never die.
No, this is not about you.
This is about me.
A historic legacy
left to thrive across the time
less chains of nucleic
tidal waves
Covalent bonds
could never rival
the strides of this soul
miles beyond
the distant
COLORED ENTRANCE
something brewing
inside dividing
inexplicable replication,
readying for harvest
behind a dried tobacco field
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 3:21 AM UTC
For instance, recall daisies,
or if you have not seen one, so much the better.
Paint me a crass picture and sleep
on the shallow crevasse. Stilt through
the orchard and search there: nothing still.
Even the nothingness is form-fitting, and thus,
your vestigial image of daisies. Mold something
out of the vacuity, and there a retrograde sculpture
will wind back to clay. Cornerstones have your name,
and your name even so, has taciturnly placed stones.
Stones. These tiny bodies that lay, undemanding,
scourged by the rapid passage of a carriage.
I wait there, with them, still thinking of daisies.
I know of a child, cylindrically obtuse, in front of the mirror.
Have you seen yourself in the hazy windows
of the Metro? What do you see? I still see daisies.
Or people with heads of daisies. But remember your
forethought of daisies? They are nothing. I am a beheaded daisy
in the lackadaisical wind of Summer. There is nothing to gain
here but the sadness of cold passing. And the child that I am speaking
of, his name, Magno. Sturdy like the rucksack he’s carrying,
lovelessly trundling altogether with the pipes and the
handrails, almost signaling the alarm without warning.
This uncared-for sultry evening decides to splinter
itself against the masses. Again, the daisies appear to me,
this time, in heady form rogue with peripatetic fragrance.
Magno used to unearth daisies and give them to her
mother when he was stiflingly young – he hustled through
the carefully placed furniture. Whatever happened to him,
I know not. And just like the daisies we have come to know now,
trains that do not belong to anyone, and the daisies too, that go
unheard of and unknown to the behest of the city,
have gone into the subtle beginning of everything
that once started in itself, the form of splendor. Nothing.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 3:27 AM UTC
Thoughts are eating me alive
I feel sharp bites as they gnaw
Bleeding out pints of sense and reason
From conclusions I draw
I am glad to drift to sleep every night
Even with precious time flying by
Happy to experience any relief
No problems behind closed eyes
Conversations filling free dreams floating within
Attempting to be understood
Have no interest in indulging opinions
Hanging silent in my head, engraved in 'would'
In efforts to turn around my thinking
I stuff my mind with different distractions
Put hands to use with various tasks
Only substances bring satisfaction
I need to unearth the causes
Responsible for lack of peace
Little by little learn to be happy
Sorrows burning my brain will cease
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
THESE ARE YOUR HANDS AND THIS IS HOW YOU TELL THE FLAMES YOU'RE NOT ALL BAD.
THESE ARE YOUR THIRD DEGREE BURNS TO SAY YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH BONES MELTING IN TRUST ISSUES.
THESE ARE YOUR WRISTS, THOSE ARE YOUR KNEECAPS, THIS IS YOUR STORY.
THIS IS HOW YOU BITE YOUR TONGUE BUT STILL MANAGE TO LEAVE THE WORLD WONDERING HOW YOU COULD MATCH UP TO THUNDER'S HARMONIES,
THIS IS HOW YOU WHISPER TO MOUNTAINS AND KNOW THE PEAKS WILL HEAR YOU.
THIS IS HOW YOU TELL THE VOICES IN YOUR HEAD TO SHAKE HANDS WITHOUT STARTING AN EARTHQUAKE,
THIS IS HOW YOU TELL DEPRESSION TO LIGHTEN UP,
THIS IS HOW YOU GRAB ANXIETY BY THE SHOULDERS AND SING LULLABIES TO ITS LUNGS.
THIS IS HOW YOU WALK UP TO GOD AND RIP OPEN YOUR CHEST WITHOUT INTRODUCING YOURSELF FIRST AND ASK "WHY?"
THERE'S PAPER UNDERNEATH YOUR PILLOW,
THOSE ARE THE NOTES YOU PASSED TO YOUR BEST FRIEND IN THE THIRD GRADE WHEN YOU TOLD HER ABOUT YOUR FIRST CRUSH.
THERE'S A PAPER THAT'S BEEN IN YOUR BACK POCKET FOR A YEAR AND A HALF,
THE ONE NEXT TO YOUR RECEIPT FOR A BOTTLE OF WHISKEY AND STAIN REMOVER,
THIS IS THE NOTE SHE WROTE YOU A WEEK BEFORE HER FUNERAL.
THIS IS HOW YOU WASH YOUR JEANS WITH TWO CUPS OF 'TODAY I FORGOT TO REMEMBER TO FORGET'.
THIS IS HOW YOU COPE.
THIS IS HOW YOU LAY ON MUD STAINED CARPETING AND AND STARE AT YOUR BROKEN DOOR,
THIS IS HOW YOU CONVERT TO HARDWOOD FLOORS AND STRONGER DOOR HINGES.
THIS IS HOW YOU WIN A WAR WITH ONE BODY ON A BATTLEFIELD,
THIS IS HOW YOU SHOW A BLIND MAN THAT YOU CAN PAINT A GOD **** MASTERPIECE.
THIS IS HOW YOU REACH HEAVEN WITHOUT DYING, THIS IS HOW YOU KNOW HELL WITHOUT LIVING THROUGH IT.
THIS IS HOW YOU UNDERSTAND THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE, BY CROSSING PATHS WITH THE GUY THAT MADE YOU HATE WET PAVEMENT AND THE SMELL AFTER IT RAINS,
THIS IS HOW YOU HELD HIS HAND THE SAME WAY YOU HOLD A KNIFE, THIS IS HOW YOU LEARN FORGIVENESS.
THIS IS HOW YOU SMOKE WITH THREE LUNGS AND LOVE WITH ONE.
THIS IS HOW YOU STUFF THE PERSON YOU WANT TO BE IN A FORTUNE COOKIE AND LEARN PATIENCE.
THIS IS HOW YOU TELL PEOPLE YOU'RE NOTHING LIKE YOUR MOTHER. THIS IS HOW YOU SAY YOU HAVE YOUR EYES, NOT HERS BECAUSE THIS IS HOW YOU UNCLENCH YOUR HUSBANDS FISTS.
THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE SOMEONE THAT NEVER KNEW HOW TO BE ALONE, THIS IS HOW YOU WORRY.
THIS IS HOW YOU CONFIDE IN A HOSPITAL BED TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LET GO.
THIS IS HOW YOU LET THE NURSE WITH SHAKY HANDS TEACH YOU HOW TO TRACE THE STRAIGHT LINE ON YOUR HEART MONITOR AND BE OKAY AFTERWARDS. THIS IS HOW YOU LIVE AND ACCEPT DEATH.
THIS IS HOW YOU UNEARTH YOURSELF,
THIS IS HOW YOU STOP EXISTING,
THIS IS HOW YOU STOP FOCUSING ON LIVING AND BREATHE FOR YOURSELF.
THIS IS HOW YOU STOP THINKING AND FEEL.
THIS IS HOW YOU SPEND A LIFETIME TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT 'THIS' IS.
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
Give me your jewels you've hidden so well,
Contained and buried deeply in your heart.
Unearth and place 'em inside my pail
So I may take 'em and remove the shards.
I will polish 'em, before I tell
If your jewels, your love, is what I have sought.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
slants of sun
move time across the room
feels nurture feels dwelling
when the sun departs
time moves with an otherly manner
feels bury feels unearth feeds reflection
Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 3:02 PM UTC
###
today
I went to the beach in search of epiphany.
I was hoping to find her among the clouds,
witnessing her morph into an ivory shape that would
probe my unconscious into fashioning
some big epiphany
out of her silver linings,
relentless against the beating winds.
or perhaps
unearth him beneath the patterns of cracks in rocks; and
he would weave a veiny trial to
lead my psyche into navigating
the big epiphany
after testing his infallible focus,
relentless against the beating waves.
instead
I felt the sea spray tease my toes
the maritime breeze whip my face
the scraggly sand stab my heels
the roaring waves crash against the jagged cliff
I did not find epiphany.
all I found
was that again
I felt small.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
Movie credits descend and sink
to the bottom of the tv screen;
Admire the time travel of a blink,
repositioned on the bed, not keen
Expired pills; motivating my pulse
Hands shifting; trying to keep up
and end this life which by day gets worse
Free this defunct soul and succumb
And in that moment,
the silent tear that doesn't cease formation;
i have surrendered, time is in halt
The sadness salt, in a state of reconstitution,
But death wasn't part of the victory
She was another night of bedridden dreary
Pre-measured mentality
part anxiety
part agony;
retaining me as an emissary
to unearth my mystery
where do my nightmares trail?
who fogs my thoughts at night?
who tallies off my breaths?
So yes, those pills;
those expired ******* pills
did not give me the answer
Instead, i woke up to another whisper
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 1:47 PM UTC
It’s strange, there was no pain.
The atom moves too fast for that.
It left my shadow on that wall,
There’s nothing else intact.
It’s strange to die so quickly
I had no time for fear.
Swept up, as in a rapture
Less than a leaf, more than a tear.
My conscious self dissolving
Like a sugar dropped in tea.
No body left to bury
You incinerated me.
Elsewhere in the city
They’ll unearth a murdered clock-
It’s hands forever frozen
on the moment I was not.
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 8:01 PM UTC
I loved you strong, with all the recklessness I possessed,
Yearned to share with you all I had to confess.
Believed it would be palliated in your pristine hands,
Watched it slip through your fingers like worthless sands.
Enamoured and imprudent, I jumped right in,
Unaware your depths were too shallow to swim.
Naïveté; my judgement had faltered,
All of my worth lay bare, and you resigned, unaltered.
Gave everything I knew with nothing left in reserve
Long forgotten it was me I should serve.
It was a hope laced channel for all the healing I desired
but you were inept at radiating the compassion required.
No understanding for this fragile task in proposition,
A rare gift to be cherished that you gave no recognition.
And there was too much exposed for you to forsake,
Too much that wasn’t earned; my calamitous mistake.
For these blood stained bones you lacked the tools to unearth,
You were never the answer to my rebirth.
Gravely inexperienced for this feat,
Your heart was too sheltered
and your mind too weak.
I gave you completely this intimate token,
But you failed to see how I was broken.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
You are the echo
On the other side
Of the room
In my heart
You are the beat
That drums within
Every brand new
Day I start
You are the rise
You are the fall
Of every sun
And every moon
Every moment
That I turn around in
If I want to give up
You tell me,
"Not yet,
It's too soon..."
You are the hope
In which I live and dream
The silver clouds and
Colored schemes
I am grateful for my arms
To embrace the love
I've found
In you
I am grateful for my words
To speak the truth
Of how you make
Me feel
I am grateful for my nerves
That send the signals
To let me know
You are here
I am healed
I am grateful for my eyes
For without them
I would have
No sight
Hold me now
In this moment I have found
I am on a journey
To your house of
Living light
I am empowering
My deepest nature
You are the word that
Enlightens my
Destiny
You are the echo
That resonates
Within me
Unearth this infinite
Measure from within
That I can sense
You are the ultimate
Eternal presence
Wake me up
No, let me sleep
You are the holy place
Inside that I never
Want to leave
There are two wolves
Deep within my heart
A wolf of love
And a wolf of hate
I feed the wolf
That resonates
With your love
For your love
Is my love
And my love
Is your
Love
Brilliant, shining
Gorgeous love
Penetrating
From above
I allow this place
To hold me at
All times
I allow your
Breath of love
To rise
Inside
Me like
A dove
My lungs are filled
With truth
My lungs are filled
With you
A breath of wings
Fly like prayers
That say thank you
To your incredible
Warmth as you
Swarm around me
You are there
With a vibration
I can't see
But I can recognize
As your fire
Melts away all pain
Before my
Eyes
You are the echo
On the other side
Of the room
In my heart
You are the beat
That drums within
Every brand new
Day I start
My echo
My sacred journey
My love-connection
The ultimate direction
My favorite footprint
Unsurpassable
Presence of
Protection
I am open to your love
And the boundaries that
Separate me from
The rest of the world
Fall away as I
Evolve
You enlighten
You revolve
You are
A bright blue
Reflection
A sun-filled
Soft Blanket
Of affection
I journey to
Your life house
You are my
Dreamcatcher
My new way of being
You are
The beautiful echo
I'm living and
Breathing
© tHE tERRY tREE
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
Can we have a little cheeriness.
Please.
Rosy cheeks and smiles.
Get those clouds of misery and blow them all away.
Let's throw away all the bad things, lock them in a box.
Maybe ,even lose the key.
Bury all the bad things in an undisclosed location.
Never unearth them.
Leave them shut away.
Let the happy lovely feelings come on out to play.
(C) Livvi
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC