Women trees
The hidden flowers of the trees
In their bud breasts
Waiting their colored blooming
In cups
On their old branches
The moss growing on the trunk
Like green thighs
On their very thin old cracked crust
With swelling whitish scattered areolae,
Buzzing bee in their tree honeycomb
Like a voice of the heart letting out its sorrow
Aerating their roots with softer mysteries
Growing up above the ground
Their knee roots allowing the inflow of life
To the fibres
Those trees
Like wooden women statues.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Related quotes
No Tree Can Stand Tall Without Roots Spread!
Every seed sends roots first,
Finding for soil and ground
where it can stand firm and tall,
stand firm and tall if roots go
deep,
Spread wide to find The sap! single cell that carry life,
Give life to cells and tissues,
Shoot, barks, branches and
leaves,
feed the leaves exposing leaves
to light, Visible tree stands on exposed
roots, not roots visible, Man made boundaries, fence and
compound,
Can't prevent or limit roots or
branches,
Sometimes absorbing soil here,
Branch will extent to neighbouring house,
How one can limit the nature,
or confine growing tree to
narrow circle drawn by man?
So is every life on Earth!
Mankind is like forest of different trees,
Yet all roots of autotrophic trees
deep in the soil,
Only parasitic have those roots,
pierce other tree's heart! Dive deep into yourself,
O man! Can you survive without
Your roots?
know how you are here,
Is it the mortal parent brought
you here, Or your fate,
Only be grateful to their love and
care forever!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Samuel Gardner
I who kept the greenhouse,
Lover of trees and flowers,
Oft in life saw this umbrageous elm,
Measuring its generous branches with my eye,
And listened to its rejoicing leaves
Lovingly patting each other
With sweet aeolian whispers.
And well they might:
For the roots had grown so wide and deep
That the soil of the hill could not withhold
Aught of its virtue, enriched by rain,
And warmed by the sun;
But yielded it all to the thrifty roots,
Through which it was drawn and whirled to the trunk,
And thence to the branches, and into the leaves,
Wherefrom the breeze took life and sang.
Now I, an under-tenant of the earth, can see
That the branches of a tree
Spread no wider than its roots.
And how shall the soul of a man
Be larger than the life he has lived?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Sonnet: Roots Matter
Look, how the cut branches and leaves get dried!
Sometimes, this happens when the Sun's too hot;
With roots intact, the trunk sprouts from its side;
The tree uprooted sure to death is fraught.
Look, how the trunk has sprouted green again!
The tree has started growing with revenge;
Almost a miracle is done by rain;
But this is how Nature tries to avenge.
Our Body, mind draw nourishment from soul;
Our soul if pure is habitat for God;
If not, the evil spirits take this role;
A sinful soul in Heaven would look odd?
Good roots matter if habits good flourish;
God's grace matters for Man's soul to nourish.
poem by John Celes
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Lino
i trust you and i repeat
the line of our heritage
from trees we come from
rooted to their roots
this time we let go off
our leaves and even some
of our twigs as we pay
tribute to the change of the
season, but soon, Lino,
and i trust you, we become
trees faithful to the sun again,
soon they shall see buds,
growing from new twigs,
roots growing deeper
probing our loneliness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roooaaaaaahh
I believe
In Our Fate
We Don't Need To Fake
It's All We Wanna Be
Watch Me Freeeaaak !!
I Say
We're Growing Every Day
Getting Stronger In Every Way
I'll Take You To A Place
Where We Shall Find Our
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Rain
Bring Me The Strength
Is Breeding Me This Way
To Get To Another Day
And All I Want To See
Set Us Free
Why
Can't You See
Can't You Feel
This Is Real
Ahhh
I Pray
We Don't Need To Change
Our Ways To Be Saved
That All We Wanna Be
Watch Us Freak
song performed by by Sepultura
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An uncreative medicine
no hope
no friend
no family
no home
no nativity
no nationality
no fame
no name
no future
no points
no market
no identity
no possessions still a tree without roots
no relationship still a tree without roots
no anarchism still a tree without roots
no hiearchy still a tree without roots
no country still a tree without roots
no colours still a tree without roots
no degrees still a tree without roots
no certificates
no imaginations
no dream
no poetry
no fiction
no story
no news
no media
no happiness still a tree without roots
no genre still a tree without roots
no labels still a tree without roots
no names still a tree without roots
THE FOURTH EYE
of
A post-conceptual poet.
4. Grow Well
The knowledge tree will need to grow
While we still have the need to know
Its roots secure to help it growing
Food it seeks our need for knowing
Thick stout trunk a brain or store
With many wonders to explore
Branches go at every angle
Many problems to untangle
A tree as this of many years
Survives by feeding from our tears
Sometimes joy at knowledge found
They fall like raindrops on the ground
Remember in the world out there
Try to learn and be aware
And if you’re able, go to college
To fertilize this tree of knowledge
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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My Sorrow
As if my sorrow knows no bound
Its roots are deep in my heart’s ground.
Its branches are high up in the sky
Its fruits are sweet no one can defy.
Its leaves are green as if it won’t die
It’s like a rain tree so it can cry.
Its flowers have very sweet fragrance
It attracts people from a distance.
Its flowers are no doubt colorful
God trims it with His gardening tool.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Sonnet – Don’t Be
Don't be the fallen leaves, so young and green;
Don't be the buds that never can flower;
Don't be the twigs that always remain lean;
Don't be the flow'rs that dropp with each shower.
Don't be the branches growing very long;
Don't be the tree that never blooms at all;
Don’t be the nests that disallow Bird-song;
Don't be the fruits that hit the Earth by Fall.
Don't be the trunk hollowed by Birds, white-Ants;
Don't be the crown that can't get Sun or Rain;
Don't be the tree that grows not straight but slants;
Don't be the roots that prop the tree in vain.
Don't be the tree that grows on marshy-land;
Just be a tree secure in Maker's Hand.
poem by John Celes
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After the Massacre
'The real point of the contemplative life has always been a deepening of faith so that our union with God is experienced.' Thomas Merton
Close to the ground
there is darkness.
Deep shadows
fill the spaces,
trunk to trunk.
They cling,
spread wide roots,
hold on,
resist
the savage pull
of night;
but higher geese
shout praise
as brightness lifts
their strong wings.
Trees nod,
and raise high branches
to faithful God,
positive flame
making bright
hidden day.
poem by Steven Federle
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Sonnet- Nature Is Wonderful
A Banyan sapling's growing on the wall;
From near the drainage-pipe, luxuriantly;
Astonishing the people near-by all;
Its trunk looks almost like a mini-tree.
Look how, the leaves appear so verdant, stiff;
The aerial roots are three metres in length;
The tree looks gorgeous as if on a cliff;
And everyday, God gives it greater strength.
Bless'd is the Bird who spat the Banyan-seed;
Thanks to the water o'er-flowing from tank;
'Tis photo-synthesis, soil-less, indeed;
It cant grow fast like ones on River-bank.
But if the roots manage to reach the ground,
The tree will live a thousand years, ‘Tis found.
poem by John Celes
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Los Flores de la Luna
No one in the world
Be quite like you
With honeysuckle eyes
Happiness and sad
Flow through my roots
Like time through sand
I have seen the
Ever blooming lotus,
To grace these lips
Life’s most humorous
Happiness and sad
Flow through my roots
Like time through sand
Above all others
You are a flower
Growing ever more
Vibrant hour by hour
Happiness and sad
Flow through my roots
Like time through sand
All flowers will fade
As beauty will too,
But a beautiful mind
Will always remain new
Happiness and sad
Flow through my roots
Like time through sand
poem by Jeffrey McCambridge
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Moonlight Sonata
The cold winter can not destroy the miraculous invincible seeds.
The germination fundamentally changes them in the earth's maternity.
It is a new life running time when the cold snow irreversible recedes,
And a new spring embraces the deep mysteries of the magical fertility.
When the seeds germinate, they always throw out a few anchor roots.
Those splintered cracks of deep roots trying to hide inside the soils.
The tall trees need deep roots and branches to bloom and to bear fruits,
While the whole land receives and nurtures the life it essentially contains.
When the divine spark leaps from the divine hand to the human hand,
Making the human roots so deep as they can face the stormy time,
Moreover, taking an ultimate shape in the law of the very green land,
While life becomes a moonlight sonata, life which is always sublime.
© Marieta.Maglas 2010
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Dedication: To M. C. M. C.
THE well-
They come to it and take
Their cupful or their palmful out of it.
The well-
Stones are around it, and an elder bush
Is there; a high rowan tree; and so
The well is marked.
Who knows
Whence come the waters? Through what passages
Beneath? From what high tors
Where forests are? Forests dripping rain!
Branches pouring to the ground; trunks, barks, roots,
Letting the streamlets down: through the dark earth
The water flows, and in that secret flood
That's called a spring, that finds this little hollow.
Who knows
Whence come the waters that fill cup and palm?
Sweetheart and comrade, I give you
The waters' marches and the forest's bound,
The valley-filling cloud, the trees that set
The rains beneath their roots, out of this well.
poem by Padraic Colum
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Multiple Choice: Australia
The huge roots of the Daintree tree are known as:
1) fortress roots
2) buttress roots
3) art deco roots
4) neo-gothic roots
5) time-to-rinse roots
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Calbiga Caves
the caves of calbiga
hide the roots of trees
those that seem
to be growing strong
from above them
the summit of green leaves
and cool summer breeze
from the samar sea
the same roots
that you talk about
somewhere in vietnam
age and ages
they never tell us
the truth about themselves
we see them now
still strongly attached
living and breathing
but as usual mute
about the horrors of war
the killing of tribes
the annihilation of brothers
who came here before us?
what have they done
that you fear talking?
i know there used
to be blood running
along the rivers and
the tributaries
i know there are still
other stories to be told
but the water is now colder
and the night is near
we pack up again
and then go........
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Leaf
A single season of life
Borne of spring’s dew, released on fall’s winds
Great oak’s life running through its veins
To the forest, a gift of motion and color
Great tree, expanding out, gripping its earth
Dancing slowly in the currents of time
In an instant, illusions of stillness
Basking in brilliant sunshine
Flowing feathers in the music of the night
Silt carried by water
Returning to roots once more
Trunk, branches, ever thinner, expansive
Ever softer, edges of fragility
Branches holding mirrors for tree’s image
From the tree, our image of leaf
From the leaf, our image of tree
Leibniz' monad reflecting the whole
poem by George Kassabgi
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How The Leaves Are Blown By The Wind
did i not tell you that these leaves come from the trees?
no dispute about it
about them, they grow out from there, those twigs
of the trees of life,
they get their glow, their sheen, though they have given more honor
to the sun
rather than the roots and the phloem
the season for them to mature and fall has come
and they all wait for the wind, the great strong wind to blow them all away
to their respective destinies
some find their way to the river
some to the thick heap of other leaves destined to rot
and only if you hear them
they say they come from nowhere
not from the tree of life
not from me
the leaves, my poems, the wind my way of throwing,
the tree, myself, my roots my mind, my phloem my blood
i made them all, but now, they are on their own
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Journey Back To Ourselves
as i stare at the
rain
i remember
trees
transparent and
cold
trees without
leaves
i imagine
twigs
or roots or
trunks
they are never
there
no matter how
trees are tears
without leaves
without roots
with so much
salt in each
and then you
touch the waves
of the imaginary
sea and then
your journey back
to you begins
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The three is growing now
From another land
From another aid of a hand
Where dry seasons is like fall
Where the bushes are green and tall
The tree is growing now
Into the sea and out of the sunset
Where great tides are known to set
Where the wind blow as hard and cold
I see no rain, or loam of soil to call gold
But the tree is growing now
Fro and to the blue of the cloud
Where the storm is as loud
The heart weeps and sleeps as fair
The children are as timid as au pair
But the tree is growing now
Into the cemetery and out of the ground
Where the death is as lavish as soothing sound
The lost is moaned, and the living is brave
The woman is running to ease her grave
But the tree is growing now
From the birth of a child
Where he play his part as mild
The world was sweet as a lime
And the years, days, with all the time
But the tree is still growing now
poem by william Dadeah Jr.
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