Best Dig Up Poems
Haunted by the death of dreams
and slaughtering of innocence
but too afraid to dig up the bones
and examine our own mistakes,
we bury our heads instead,
blindly following greedy leaders
who give nothing but hollow words
and meaningless moments of silence.
I know I’m not the only one asking -
what more can we do?
As summer nears, sunlight stirs
in streams, surprising delicate gardens
with dreams of daffodils.
Their bright eyes, wide with secrets,
suddenly close, and their dainty petals
wither until they are no more.
Knowing these last days
of spring rain will remain,
summer retreats.
Soon, their daffodil dreams will be
just a memory.
After darkness falls, all is numb.
New roots breeding evergreen
suddenly turn dry and dull.
Promises forgotten,
potential lost to pain -
tomorrow’s tree weakening.
The shimmering green of innocence
is gone, but fiery guns are drawn.
How can we forget while whipping winds
constantly howl? How can we only cry
as hatred’s bullets continue to fly?
Smoky skies once boisterous and blue
now choke our most cherished blooms.
The silence of complacency
is evil’s sickening laughter,
Do you hear its rifle reloading faster?
My blue tears turn blood red,
anger gushes, flooding me
from sea to dimming sea
in this vast land of violence versus vulnerability.
We are no longer free to dream,
no longer free to tend to our gardens,
to breathe in and measure
each miraculous moment,
to watch our fragile flowers strengthen
and grow to beautiful heights.
With head bowed, I listen
to the silence of my tears falling
where the flowers once grew.
I can no longer hear the cries
of the fallen with petals blowing.
I only hear the howling winds
of this never-ending nightmare,
and again I ask,
what more can we do?
5/25/22
We read about the slaughter in a place far overseas,
where the multicultural blending has been there for centuries.
Where church of all denominations have been standing side by side.
Where neighbours have been neighbourly; respect seemed to abide.
Seems that politics and power can infiltrate a settled mind;
dig up and open wounds of what is yours and what is mine,
take citizens back into time and drag out all their roots …
be wary of your ogre neighbour, they have a gun that shoots.
Begin to see those simple folk who lived their simple lives,
follow restlessly and blindly as belief or race revives,
those that helped them yesterday really had a cunning plan,
all they really wanted was, to find a way to cut you down.
Throw them all out on the streets; run them out of town.
Ethnic cleanse the country to make it pure and sound.
If they refuse to leave our home and opt to make a stand -
build a force of vigilantes, to roam and cut them down.
What started as a trickle soon turns into a flood.
The cup that fills with honey can also be filled with blood.
The taste that once was bitter now is the taste that's lusted for,
when seeking out the enclaves to go killing more and more.
A house, once a home of peace stands a shattered monument,
to let the remnants hanging on know what to expect.
Heads displayed on pikes are cheered; graves hold hundreds more.
Babes are sport for bayonets; forgot is what we're fighting for.
Can't live side by side now; there's too much terror going on.
Battle lines are clearer; the sane have taken leave and gone.
Cannons roaring day and night; lines must stand holding fast.
For anyone that's over-run, that day becomes their last.
When the dust has settled and the criminals are hung,
Hate subsides back to the memory; the clean-up has begun.
Do we realize as bloodstains fade; we have a deep rooted call …
needing one spark to set us off - there could be murder in us all.
You’re in Palm Springs, not much to do
But golf and get some sun
Hop on a cart, still almost dark
Get out and have some fun
Line up your shot, you’re feeling hot
You try hard not to push
But half the time, like you were blind
It ends up in the bush
You curse and swear like no one’s there
Dig up a chunk of dirt
You hit a house, feel like a louse
Thank God no one was hurt
You hack around, rip up the ground
The hole seems ’way too small
You miss your shot and swear a lot
This is no fun at all
Every shot’s worse than the last
No matter how you try
They don’t go where you want them
It makes you wanna cry
Your buddies laugh, you stand and chaff
You ask them what’s so funny
They grin and say, “Looks like today
You owe us lots of money”
Finally when you make a shot
You think you’re getting hotter
You rip the next shot long and hard
Straight into the water
Every shot makes someone smile
Somehow it’s never you
A foursome comes up from behind
Asks if they could play through
You shank and pull you slash and slice
You finally get around
The only part that you enjoy
Is when you’re homeward bound
You practice ‘til the sun goes down
Determined not to fail
The more you try the worse it gets
You just groove your slash and flail
Today I had a real good day
I’m happy as could be
Had lots of fun, me and my Hon
Stayed home and watched TV
In a field that is claimed to be wasteland
only fed by the sun and the rain;
its dotted with a sprinkling of yellow
amongst the wild grasses again.
And the manicured lawns of the village
with the roses pruned into shape
will never be found in the wasteland
and don’t have the will to escape.
There’s a man who tenders this wasteland
and the villagers all disagreed
when he argued a case for himself
that the dandelion is not a weed.
Yes, dandelion is a humble herb
that provides us with salad and tea
it has flowers that mirror the sun
and draws in the wild honey bee.
When plants are missed in the harvest
or left for a season to grow
there is cotton like seed parachutes
drifting off as if dandelion snow.
If a parachute lands in a garden
and finally sprouts from its seed
not a villager can be convinced
that the dandelion is not a weed.
Yes, dandelion is a humble herb
that provides us with salad and tea
it has flowers that mirror the sun
and draws in the wild honey bee.
Being rich in mineral content
essential oils, and vitamins too
dandelion is kind to our bodies
a healer growing free to pursue.
As I reap my crop in the wasteland,
and only dig up what I do need
I’m happy I don’t need convincing
that the dandelion is not a weed.
Amid the chaos
Amid the storm
The dark clouds were adorned
By a dome of seven shades
And a silence prevailed
A stillness was proclaimed
The leaves, the petals stood amazed
While the birds flew in haste
As the sun shone on the cage
Where a tiger was in rage
Roaring, and Sighing while still in chains
Long forgotten was the valley and these lands
A storm arose in the flowing cascade
Making the dried leaves red by blood from a crusade
To dig up the key from the swamp
In hope that a devine hand will descend to help
And the chains will be broken
And the tiger will soon be running in the wild
Ferocious... notorious... with an incredible zeal
On the cliffs, in the meadows and deep in the woods
#ecofeminism
~Paghunda Zahid
(29th August, 2021)
My mother starts moaning, with another one due.
She won't live to see, as she struggles to wheeze.
I never knew famine would produce skies so blue.
But no need for toilets, I forget how to squeeze.
Searing sun inflates skulls into baroque balloons.
One whining dog, dying , from a surfeit of fleas.
I squint as my sister beats a roach with a spoon.
She's holding out hope, with a morsel to tease.
My eyes can still water from the feces and trash,
tossed up by vultures to release fresh disease.
I dig up what moist dirt I can pound into mash.
An old man collapses, not a single one grieves.
What passes for corpses- baking black as they pop.
Now the flies feel the heat and retreat to the trees.
My brother keeps wailing and I wish he would stop.
My breathing grows shallow in the oven fed breeze.
If it helps each of you,
I am down on my knees.
I beg you.
Hand me one piece of bread.
Would you, please?
When I smiled at you,
I worshiped you,
You responded with the same,
Because you knew…
Silently, I loved you softly,
But! I didn’t seize you once,
Love bounced reversely,
Tears shouted, entreating you.
Heart appealed to bear its beats,
Expected to reach thy spirit,
Guessed! Couldn’t draw to thy eyes,
Got you once, you left me once.
Trapped in spider-webs around,
Tried to drip out each emotion,
I felt for you.
Why was it too late?
Swear! I urged to god:
Was It right to act?
Brain and heart worked oppositely,
Unable to conclude it all
The one I admired was a fake.
Guts crushed into millions,
I consoled myself:
Someday, your essence will come.
I don’t wait for thy sign now,
To dig up thy sensations everyday
Get away from my mirror.
Let the doors of heart be closed!!!
I cried today.
Not because I missed you,
But I realized:
I am going to be alright without you…
A sweet heartbreaking poem:
Dedicated to whom who lost their world in love…
But don’t ever be disheartened because world is too vast.
By: Shrishty Shrivastava
“X” std
Why should the woods be caged
In order to look alike?
Multi-colored umbrellas
In the wild
Jailed in a hat
Mold makers with style
Colors, feathers, and sounds
Stomping off your mind
Vibrations dig up a smile
That cracks all the way
Up to your melting eyes
Emulators of light
Outsider tones
Flooding your speech
One slaughtered sheep
Absorbed by the void
Returns as gray, rolling spheres
With no value at all
Fish turn unable to drop
Their folded paper stones
Sand walkers of our world
Canned mushrooms lay ahead
They all look the same
Sons of a geometric shape
Nothingness growing up
Directly from your head
Falling around your neck
Stands locked, so it waits
For you to smash the jar
Revival of the white flash
Ideas should not fit in a hat....
The heavens roared with thunder
as lightning filled the skies
was this God getting angry
or Natures big surprise.
Is Mother Nature telling us
the best way that she can
to stop the interference
and abuse she gets from man.
We marvel at her beauty
each time we look around
then dig up all her treasures
from their natural burial ground.
We forget that Nature gives us
all that keeps us living
we take it all and still want more
but never think of giving.
We build across the countryside
progressing every day
but Mother Nature can't progress
for man is in the way.
Ah, Paris, is still calling me, as a romantic lover that has been the
background of my dreams. Though life passes by like a falling star
the hopeful trip still flows through my bloodstream. I’ve put off
hearing ‘Comment-allez vous’, which is an old reminder of what
someday I must do. Sometimes my thought’s wander to the
banks of the Seine yet I’ve never been except in pictures back
then. Will it ever happen? I long to stroll down the Champ
De Elysee for a whole day during the lovely month of May.
And when I gaze upon the Arc De Triomphe, I won’t state
‘humph’, rather it will be my own triumph. I’d love to
sit for hours, and be transformed by the power of the
Eiffel Tower. There will be plenty of time to visit the
Louvre and Notre Dame which are two good reasons
why I came. I’ll also see the castle Versailles before
I die; only as long as I give a try. And when hunger
sets in I’ll order café au lait in a sidewalk café on
the Champ De Elysee, and maybe I’ll say, merci.
A baguette with some brie will go wonderfully
With this bucket list spree in good old Paris.
Paris has always been the X on my treasure
map, though wrinkled and worn going way
back, I had sworn to dig up my dream, ah
some day, some day. Au revoir mon ami.
Le Bucket List by David Fisher for Bucket List Contest
I remember the first time I saw you
You were a bundle of cuteness
With your huge ears
And unstoppable wagging tail
My heart choose you at first sight
You choose us too
When you snuggled in my arms
And gave a content sigh
Placing your head on my shoulder
You went to sleep in my arms
Safe, loved and trusting
You completed our lives
You became family
But time is merciless
And the years started to weight on your shoulders
You couldn't run so fast anymore
Nor play with your favorite toys
You didn't had the energy to dig up crabs on the beach
Nor run chasing birds
Until the day we noticed you couldn't jump on the sofa
Until the day we noticed that you were tired
Now we're left with the hardest decision
To let you rest your tired little body
To let you go to the Rainbow bridge...
To say goodbye...
We did our best for you
You were loved for the whole time you stayed with us
You had a happy, loved and long life.
Now you can rest my love...
We'll hold you until your last breath
Our faces will be the last thing you'll see before you sleep for the last time.
And when you wake up in the other side,
You'll find yourself surrounded by angels
Your body young and strong again
Able to run, and jump and bark...
So be patient love, and wait for us
Wait with the angels
We'll Keep you in our hearts
Until the day that we can meet again
I love you now, tomorrow and for eternity...
In memory of my beloved XUXÚ
06/09/1999 - 19/11/2016
If you decide to
dig up your lush green grass to
Plant on my side, you~
Are more than welcome;
Otherwise keep to your side
And stop complaining.~
Always remember
when it rains, it pours down on
All God's creation.
Pace, G
INK-U-SCRIPT
08-21-2012
I will build my house in the corner field,
And the woodline will be my border.
To my axe and hammer the trees will yield
As I put logs and planks in order.
I will build my chimney with the stones
That I dig up from the earth.
I will stack them high with grunts and groans,
And lay them side by side for my hearth.
I will till the ground and plant the seeds
That are tomatoes, beans and corn.
I will fish from the pond where smallmouth feed
And pick fresh berries in the morn.
I will count the stars in the summer sky
And store wood for future burning.
I will watch in wonder as deer stroll by,
And take heed of the leaves’ soft turning.
I will gather in the autumn grains
That will see me through ‘til spring.
I will huddle behind my frosted panes
And wait for robins again to sing.
Each night I’ll pray before taking rest
And give thanks for all of my labor,
For my reward is my request –
To have God as my closest neighbor.
It’s 5 am, we sneak out of the house
My brother and I, as quiet as a mouse
To his red bike, where I sit on the cross bar
Trusting my brother, we won’t go too far.
Put the worm on the hook, wrap it round well
Or it will wiggle off, and the fish it will tell
Watch the float as it bobs, and pull it in gent-ly
That how my brother taught fishing to me.
Always sneaking out, fishing in the dark
Racing on his red bike, we thought it a lark.
He made me dig up the worms, for the fishing bait
But I wouldn’t squeal, no, that was never my fate
Holding both fishing rods, I hung on real tight
He promised he would teach me to use it just right.
In the river we found we loved to fish best
Often paddling in water right up to our chest.
My brother, he stopped taking me fishing with him
I always caught the fish; he said it was a sin.
Then came the day girls were more interesting than fish
Our fishing days were over, it was never my wish.
So anyone with a rod that they will let me use
I’ll sit on your crossbar, or saddle if you choose
Teach me to fish and to cast it with skill
And I’ll get your worms up, I promise I will.
© ~GG~ 14/11/2012
Contest Entry:
My nanna
Looking at my nanna sitting in her chair
Tweezers in her hand plucking her chin of hairs
Putting on her rouge and lipstick a bit over the edge
Shouting at her friend are you ready over the spring hedge
Off to town they go
Paying all their bills
Once a month she leaves her house and that is all my friends
My nanna the women that saved my soul, the woman I loved so dear
The meals laid upon the table heaven forbid if you were not there
And in the morn of Sundays come you would here her sound
Get out of bed its five in the morn your sheets I need to wash and air
My eyes full of ducks poop yawning form my mouth
Hurry nanna its freezing cold, hurry warm the house
On Sunday night its bath time and our hair must be dried
Don’t want you catching cold so she rubbed it till it shined
And if we got in trouble and we hurt our nana’s needs
On the lawn we would have to sit and dig up all the weeds
But all good things must leave this earth and nanna had to go
I miss her smile and warmth and touch but this I do know
She will always be with me and never leave my side
And it’s thanks to my nanna that I have survived