"uproots" poems
*Nature has engulfed the Earth with Love
The roots firmly entrenched on terra firma
Sometimes nature’s fury uproots it all
Bringing with it, devastation galore
Yet, nature heals over time, lush green with life
Kissed with Life, by the eternal rays of the Sun
Water nurtures with the juice of Love
Breathing Life onto this planet
For Nature is Life, and we keep on strangling it
As Nature’s comeuppance may uproot us all
Our fate firmly bound to Nature; do we have a choice at all?*
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
But can you love me in the deep? In the dark? In the thick of it?
Can you love me when I drink from the wrong bottle and slip through the crack in the floorboard?
Can you love me when I’m bigger than you, when my presence blazes like the sun does, when it hurts to look directly at me?
Can you love me then too?
Can you love me under the starry sky, shaved and smooth, my skin like liquid moonlight?
Can you love me when I am howling and furry, standing on my haunches, my lower lip stained with the blood of my last ****
When I call down the lightning, when the sidewalks are singed by the soles of my feet, can you still love me then?
What happens when I freeze the land, and cause the dirt to harden over all the pomegranate seeds we’ve planted?
Will you trust that Spring will return?
Will you still believe me when I tell you I will become a raging river, and spill myself upon your dreams and call them to the surface of your life?
Can you trust me, even though you cannot tame me?
Can you love me, even though I am all that you fear and admire?
Will you fear my shifting shape?
Does it frighten you, when my eyes flash like your camera does?
Do you fear they will capture your soul?
Are you afraid to step into me?
The meat-eating plants and flowers armed with poisonous darts are not in my jungle to stop you from coming. Not you.
So do not worry. They belong to me, and I have invited you here.
Stay to the path revealed in the moonlight and arrive safely to the hut of Baba Yaga: the wild old wise one… she will not lead you astray if you are pure of heart.
You cannot be with the wild one if you fear the rumbling of the ground, the roar of a cascading river, the startling clap of thunder in the sky.
If you want to be safe, go back to your tiny room — the night sky is not for you.
If you want to be torn apart, come in. Be broken open and devoured. Be set ablaze in my fire.
I will not leave you as you have come: well dressed, in finely-threaded sweaters that keep out the cold.
I will leave you naked and biting. Leave you clawing at the sheets. Leave you surrounded by owls and hawks and flowers that only bloom when no one is watching.
So, come to me, and be healed in the unbearable lightness and darkness of all that you are.
There is nothing in you that can scare me. Nothing in you I will not use to make you great.
A wild woman is not a girlfriend. She is a relationship with nature. She is the source of all your primal desires, and she is the wild whipping wind that uproots the poisonous corn stalks on your neatly tilled farm.
She will plant pear trees in the wake of your disaster.
She will see to it that you shall rise again.
She is the lover who restores you to your own wild nature.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 9:36 AM UTC
Its ready to bust out
And give some knockouts
The silence has been broken
I no longer am unspoken
With each passing breath
The darkness envelopes me
Standing by me is the Reaper
He stretch out his left hand
The Death hand
Calling upon my alter ego
The demon within
Ripping at my soul
As a tornado uproots a tree
My resistance gone unnoticed
I kept focused
Divided into two
Should I just let it loose?
The uncontrollable rage
Was seen in my face
My body trembling
Like a molecule vibrating in the air
The transformation was complete
All of life ceased...
Apr 2, 2010
Apr 2, 2010 at 6:57 AM UTC
It comes in waves
mid-step
mid-sentence
a rush
it tugs at my gut
and carries me
out to sea
uproots the anchor
of my sanity
and engulfs me
in the memories
that drench every part of me
and just like the tide that washes up, occasionally
wetting the seering sands
just as quickly as it comes,
you are gone
x
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 4:26 AM UTC
you say it's not about the ***
but the declaration does nothing
to ***** the boiling terror
to shoo away that yawning hole
digging deeper and deeper
into the root system of my ribs
tilling the lush soil that is
my traitorous stomach
and ever shrinking lungs
it uproots me
grinds the stump where I once stood
a towering oak
or was I only ever a sapling
that was snapped in half
severed the exact moment
that the floodgates opened
and the raging storms remnants
poured forth unshackled by the walls
I carefully constructed around my trembling heart
how I screamed when they fell
the resounding crash
of my fingers digging into your back
pulling you closer
and closer
I can't stop wanting you closer
to inhabit that feeling
the safety of a harbor in a storm
you somehow can protect me
from the radioactive wasteland
that I am still traversing
dodging gamma rays of manic frenzy
and alpha particles heavy with the
black hole that swears it will consume all of me
its final sacrifice demanded my life
how can I trust this?
when the reality of the matter is
you are no lead apron
absorbing the radiation for me
some kevlar vest that can ever protect me
from the bullets of vitriolic bile I hurl inward
not to mention grenades thrown my way
by wayward neural firings
which find me craving my blood
a box of razors is
a box of friends
and reality diverges into an orthogonal plane.
you could be snatched from me
you are a small worm on
the biggest hook to make the juiciest
most succulent amuse bouche
for a big world of sharks
how ******* stupid am I
to be a fisherwoman who has
fallen in love with her bait?
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
She is a man,in the blood stream,
gushing within her veins.
He acts her woman, willingly,
and he likes it every bit.
Together they create by chance,
a tumultuous ****** history,
never before seen, perhaps.
This subversion remains a secret,
with a meaning, on which
they never ever bothered.
A mighty cyclone, she transforms
that uproots structures monumental
if she really wants to trample everything.
He is a prankster wind,that love
billowing saplings; ripe rice as well.
Hovering on air, over land and water,
tumbling together, exploring depths,
they create mysterious wind patterns,
that add to the folk lore and myth.
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
i’ll fall in love so many times
my heart’s bound to get broken
this was just the first time, my dear
that words not meant were spoken
i said that you were worth it
but now i’m not so sure
it’s hard to imagine myself
being so naive and immature
to think that all the pain i felt
and all the tears i cried
would somehow be rewarded
by the things you tried to hide
my mother spoke to me today
her voice straining with concern
and once i was able to comprehend
i felt my stomach churn
“i just want to strangle him,” she said
“he comes into your life,
and uproots you, takes you away from us
cuts you off just like a knife
from your friends and family and God, and for what?
so he can break your heart,
and go flouncing off to college
and enjoy his fresh new start?
just how does he sleep at night
knowing that my little girl’s
whole life has been turned upside down
and she’s angry at the world?”
i held my mama’s hand
and told her what was on my mind
“i know i didn’t listen.
i know that i was blind.
i couldn’t see that what i needed
was just the very thing
i turned my back on that april night
when he and i began our fling.
what i desired was just affection
to feel valued, to feel loved
to begin to feel self worth,
and not the lack thereof.”
so Chris, if you are reading this,
know that i will be okay
but don’t think that i’ve forgotten you
although i know you’d like it that way
you’ll always be there in my head
even when i finally
meet someone who gives a ****
and wants to be with me
i know that you know how it feels
to be head over heels in love
with someone who in every sense
is absolutely incapable of
loving you back in the same way
no matter how much you try to show
that they mean everything to you
that you just cannot let go
but dear, the sad truth is
it was my mistake as well
to think that my life could turn out
something like a fairy tale
with you at least, because you see
my prince will one day come
he loves me more than words can say
and at night when he gets home
i’ll come running into his open arms
and without fear or guilt or pain
i’ll tell him that i love him
knowing that he feels the same.
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 12:36 AM UTC
Words that penetrate
The illusionary world of time
Creating a whirlwind
Feelings within the words
Creates an upheaval
Time itself cannot stand still
Words have the power
To travel beyond the known
Spiraling around the core
Of the world of consciousness
Bringing the unknown
Out of the shields of anonymity
For all to savor
Poet has the power to create
From nothing, starts the saga
Reaching a crescendo
Poetry uproots the sedentary minds
To a new realm of understanding
Words that are immortal
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC
I’ve learned
Life is grey, not black and white
We dream in color, but we end up in that
84 by 28 patch of dirt in the worm-holed ground
Dreaming of the dull vague color of our lives
I’ve learned
that if a tornado swirls through your little hometown
and uproots your house through that baby blue sky
you put on that little black dress the next day
and put on your shiniest smile
like you’re the leading star in Broadway’s premier show
I’ve learned
people always leave
even if you stay on the cold floor and beg
until your tired knees are
Black and blue from the stained hardwood floor
I’ve learned
that the sad feeling never departs
you’re stuck in the impossible labyrinth
Tripping on unyielding stones that leave
Lines of scarlet like height marks on a door
I can say that I have learned so much
Have I really learned anything at all?
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
A raucous tone of an oldie worm gear
Sound's like a screech that torn ears
Toothed wheel and it revolving spiral, bear
The oodles of blood as the oil of fear.
The products are orderly transmitted diseases
Wrench is limited avast for every pigment of it
And to rely on its asylum, to ceases
are not enough, to cover the dirt or to omit.
Let's stave the stave of reddish fuels!
If life is a wheel and we are its axles,
Our will be done, drawn of our risksha
And let this machine covert chutzpah.
Working of two wheel with sloping square edge,
Is the next wheel with trickery on the ledge.
Our wheel has a will of its spare-part, none Midas touch
But still, this wheel will chase the chaste egg to hutch.
Be the egg of tomorrow, who's snob the chatterbox.
Uproots our machine's cheapskate who's blood are their tax.
Their waste turns to wax from the slave of fox.
It can take away everything outside of our flocks
Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 7:21 PM UTC
the proof of the soul is evident with a continuation of the Einstein particle, from theory into practice - the proof is short-lived, the indestructible attache of man lingers on, his the soul, democratically a medium of revision and certainty - improved instruments of investigation, the purity of reasoning later meddling with the senses of other's being given certainty: σ (total) - ¼ = σ (¾, i.e. remnant and electron cloud symbiosis of partaking in Gemini simultaneous coordination) - the thunder and lightning, a 747 and the delay vacuum cleaner "echo" - on a less grander scale plumber's apprenticeships - perhaps less grand, but therefore all the more necessary, zenith of self-worth, rather than god-worth, audacity on the dance-floor and no prim-cut hopes kneeling in a church for added fancy to desire clemency.
i do believe the Hindu polytheistic theory of reincarnation exists -
but in no way related to the resurrection of σ -
a totality of a person - whatever given characteristics in total,
i mean replicating mannerisms
as a form of adaptability will only make
a clone a clone on paper (in theory),
but the original experienced whatever
environment was to be experienced -
to have a true clone would also mean
replicating the environment,
and that's impossible - in science as in
nature we're susceptible to ungovernable
forces - a tornado uproots a mid-western
house and juggles it about like a boxer -
a tsunami and the sun with its 5,000 starving
Sudanese children - whatever -
but reincarnation does exist in a different
psychological medium, in the id - the shortened
version / unit of ideas - it it it or that that that -
ideas are resurrected or reincarnated (passed on)
all the time - i can understand a Hindu
in only this reality - not in the reality of an
entirety of the individual and the environment
for the individual's individuation -
an idea can be resurrected - there's always
continuity in philosophy, whereas history sees
disconnected events due to it's prime tool as a hope
for averting them (hindsight), philosophy in historical
terms is always a seance of connectivity - lubrication,
evolution, adding to, saving up, discharge, mid-life crisis.
i can't understand the Hindu concept of reincarnation
when it comes to people - each adapted and each
an ongoing process - ideas can be reincarnated -
by egos? not really.
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 8:19 PM UTC
Pedigree of you with me
A brand new line of mad offspring
IQ, EQ , A slant to spring and bust the mold like anything
But not less before it came the shade
A far off spite ta invoke rage
Belittled a napoleonic wave
Our mustard seed, you're genophage
Sooth wist present by parantage
Uproots her list of heretics
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
hold onto something
that unfolds mysteries
hold onto something
that uproots reality
stop, breathe, think ..
of mystical empathies.
hold onto thoughts
they enlighten words to existence
abundantly essential to a
garden of imagination and free
hold onto dreams
their vision is as clear
as identity’s knowledge
to sublime grace and eternity
hold onto peace
an upliftment of joy and humility
a radiating field of harmony
hold onto your hands
they carry the midst of pain
the indulgement of passion
the sensation of pleasure ..
they remain known
to a nation of nurture and feeling
they remain crooked
from a lost love’s limitations
they remain still.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
I look into the sunset
My eyes become blinded by the light
I know this to be true every time
But sometimes I hope it not to be as bright
Everyday her light beams
She uproots me from the ground
She fills my head full of dreams
Performing to the beat of my sound
Clouds masking her iridescent qualities
I felt I shouldn’t point out her flaws
She smolders down faux love
And then quickly withdraws
It’s just a cloudy day I say
She’ll back again soon
But again, perpetually, I’m left in the dirt
Screaming at the moon
Apr 8, 2021
Apr 8, 2021 at 10:32 AM UTC
All is fair in love and war
Was full of it
Because how can something that burns so quickly and leaves charred corpses in it's wake be fair
How can something that uproots the lives of many while leaving the lives of those adjacent fine
It is wholly unfair fall victim merely for being in the wrong place or time
Battlefields consume souls
No matter their varied geography
The path is always the same
Destruction can not be avoided nor cheated
Like Sister Death, both lie in wait
Lurking and prowling to devour the unfortunate ones
Praying for fairness that doesn't exist
Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 3:24 AM UTC
conversations with paul are a one
way street, an play in a single act
between himself and a shadow (me):
in which Actor tells Actress he loves
her and then watches as her feet burn
holes into the stage and sink beneath
the floorboards, while he dons purple
prose and begins to blame your fire
for the forests he's burned with
his hot breaths and angry manuscripts
and the guilt he peddles is contagious
it wets through your layers to dillute
your kindness, your sorries, your innate
empathy for people in pain and when
he's not here, he's whetting his words
and staking them in your soft soil
in the middle of the night while
you lay unaware but dream
that a thief sweeps through
your garden and uproots
the best and most purposeful
foilage, unguarded even by
the moonlight because
such a thing could not
disguise a lack of a
a person.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
Crackling windows and
shattered power lines
low and grumbling.
A tree spreads its wings
and uproots itself from the soil.
Downtrodden shacks stand tired
at half staff, barely paying attention.
***** roads
dirt roads
trodden
untrodden
my humble abodes
They've hammered
a rusty nail into
the northern star
and hung an advertisement there -
It's the brightest shiner in the sky
Weeping willow weepin'
Done crying, now a sleeping fellow
frozen fingers ask for change
Never really Done crying
done trying
Never really Done
A house
split down the middle
rusty rouge and a battered blue
A solemn lady
saunters with a stop sign
Pine tree pines to the left
Pensive pencil pours
pickled thoughts to paper
Pied piper pries
sleepy eyelids
pulls sick stories
pulsating pupils
monstrously
melodious musings
making meal of my darkness
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
The Crash On Me
It's time To sway
I Will Never Forgive
That World made By Lie
The Only Reason Why You leave
Nothing Left To Say
Nothing Left To Give
Every part of me Fades Away
To be The Rest Of that Wreckage
Lonely behind The Door
The Time When I was Sure
You lay me On The floor
To Scream Please No More
Nothing left to see
You keep it as locking key
Close my eyes to be free
bite my heart such the bee
that's what you want to be
Taking the whole me
As You Uproots A tree
And Drop It From The brae
Lonely behind The Door
The Time When I was Sure
You lay me On The floor
To Scream Please No More
The Wave rolling and crashing
And The hands Was in chain
Drops Me Down With Hard bashing
Tied to me tight, tie me up again
Do You Know How's That Feeling
The Only Thing You'll Never Gain
Through window I Keep Watching
To Realize How Stupid I Been
For Every Moment I was making
you Fake Reactions Into My Brain
Lonely behind The Door
The Time When I was Sure
You lay me On The floor
To Scream Please No More
Author / Aladdin Aures Hamdi
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 6:00 PM UTC
And as once again it is time to go,
my uproots now wrap about your waist,
don't chase me, sweet-
I take you with me
I think you know.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
My beautiful rose
My beautiful rose
As beautiful as the day is long,
No one knows why she blooms.
She blooms through the storm
whether the vase is ceramic or poreclin,
My beautiful rose.
She is most beautiful because she isn't an ordinary rose.
She finds the sun in any weather.
She says more than what a dozen roses can say.
My beautiful rose.
Beautiful as the day is long.
By chance if you find my beautiful rose.
Speak to her in a language she understands.
A language only the heart understands.
She uproots her self and spreads her heart.
Finding the sun in any weather.
No one knows why she blooms
But by chance you see my beautiful rose
You'd soon understand.
Why she blooms the way she does
Spreading her joy.
The way she blooms
If by chance you find my beautiful rose.
You'd know exactly why she is my beautiful rose
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 1:27 PM UTC
Disgusting,
tongue stuck out,
nose closed;
she always hated it,
and no matter what
we’d press and press,
forcing her to stomach
things she never wanted,
smelling that sourness,
those vinegar troubles
and tangy juice
covered in coercion;
we’d ask her time and time again
and never once did we respect her wishes.
*Why must I consume?
is it not enough to exist,
is that not enough consumption?
How greedy it is
to expect me to take
more than I desire,
to force me to eat another
out of house and home.
That’s kind,
so very kind,
a sickly kind,
the sort of “kindness”
that destroys marriages,
uproots families and destroys psyches.
I’m not like that,
I don’t want to be controlled.*
But we kept on shoveling
these aged, old traditions,
those nasty pickled ideas,
those greedy, grubby hands
of control over her,
and she could never let herself forgive.
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 5:00 PM UTC
*Ringing sound of silence
whispers
a deluge of nostalgia
uproots
the ground beneath my feet
flies
the unsettling thoughts of abandonment
unravel
the twisted knots of ambition
drown
... in the ringing sound of silence.*
Jul 28, 2024
Jul 28, 2024 at 1:21 AM UTC
Glimpses of the bygone days,
as the bygoners are now gone;
feeds up the memory lane,
where the future once did dawn.
For, life and living are both meaningless,
with the lives i lived with gone;
for guns n roses (together) ne’er prevails,
a blind eye of the human race.
Shadows of those caravan camps,
Haunt those blood red lands;
red roses crown the graves,
lost are those men as slaves.
Aimed for peace,
Aimed for love;
war killed thine aim.
Roses over graves,
Roses for love;
both are not the same.
With whom to share the victory marks?
friends, family, (too)many gone;
for guns and roses can ne’er cross roads,
as one uproots and the other sows.
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 3:09 PM UTC
I feel the night fading away
Will you be carried away
In the winds that blow fiercely
Swept away to unknown lands
Shall I stay swaying
Swaying to a gentle breeze that never uproots me
Will you be carried away
By my loving words
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 10:21 PM UTC