Best Root Out Poems


Growing

Growing
                       As I catch Light
                As rays dissolve my fright
        As my soul dares the mighty height
       As I lend a heart and root out a spite
                As I ease pain into delight
                 As my soul gets refined
                        As I hold tight
                             Growing
Categories: root out, growth, heart, poetry, spiritual,
Form: Rictameter

I AM AFRICA

I am Africa, the cradle of mankind,
Where ancient footprints in the sands of time entwined,
The birthplace of humanity, divinely designed,
In my esteemed valleys, where life first aligned.

I am Africa, the cradle of civilization,
Where mighty empires rose with determination,
From the ancient Egypt's pyramids to the Great Zimbabwe walls,
From glorious Mali Empire to Kingdom of Kush, history recalls.

I am Africa, adorned with wonders untold,
From Victoria Falls, a sight to behold,
To the Serengeti, the great wildlife migration known,
The winding Nile River, nature's masterpiece shown.

I am Africa, land of majestic savannas,
Where lion roars and elephant wanders,
From Kilimanjaro's peak to the Rift Valley's floor,
Nature's grandeur timelessly spectacular, evermore.

I am Africa, rich in resources so rare,
From Congo's minerals beyond compare,
To Ghana's gold gleaming bright,
And Nigeria's oil, a source of might.

I am Africa, richly endowed with resources untold,
Diamonds, platinum, copper, and tantalum behold,
I offer fertile soils and abundant rainfall,
To sustain life's rhythm, from the great to the small.

I am Africa, proudly dark-skinned and beautiful,
Melanin-rich, skin kissed by the sun, dutiful,
From the Maasai warriors to the Zulu kings,
Cultures and values that makes a heart sings.

I am Africa, scarred by the slave trade's hand,
As ships sailed away with souls from my land,
The Atlantic's cruel passage, a harrowing tale,
Yet from that dark chapter, my resilience did prevail.

I am Africa, the sleeping lion now awake,
To reclaim my glory, no more to forsake,
I stand tall against any disdain, my destiny to behold,
Socially strong, economically stable, politically bold.

I am Africa, acknowledging and ready to confront my flaws,
To root out corruption and greed, oppressive laws,
United in accountability, good governance, equity, and might,
I march forward with determination, embracing the future's light.
Categories: root out, africa, nature, society, visionary,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Sin Avoided That Obedience Is Perfected- Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Here we have in this 119th Psalm
the psalmist speaks of avoiding sin
so that reality knows obedience fully
when the living word is meditated in

Be careful to avoid every sin filled trap
having reverence for God's holy word
achieves for believers a deep respect
any other view is totally absurd

If our works are not holy
our obedience can never be likewise
so meditate biblically and continually
to root out all sinful lies

So follow Mr Spurgeon's wisdom
avoid sin so to pefectly obey
as verse 101 would teach
and follow your God all the way


I hold back my feet from every evil way, in order to keep your word. Psalm 119 
v. 101
Categories: root out, god, sin, spiritual,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Bride Price: Gratuitous Marriage

In bridled hovel on denuded strand
Tanned damsel loiters on barter stand
Waiting for purloined fealty her title to brand
Festooned in ritual garb, decked with lavish garland
As noble peacock, her fecund colors are fanned
Waiting eligible suitors her utility, virility to scan
Her father a lofty price doth rightly command
To root out pilfering charlatan, worthless brigand
A reputable family with aspirations noble, grand
Bids for the honor of reticent, sheltered hand
Her elder for propriety doth initial offers withstand
Until the esteemed value of his ward family doth understand
A suitable piece of fertile lowland he indignantly demands
In order his tribal status and perpetuity to expand
With gratuitous stipend in token parlance panned
In customary deference, contrite bride accepts husband
Categories: root out, daughter, family, family,
Form: Rhyme

Inflection Point

Just writing on paper clip the best                                                                                                                                               my mind jumping jack said just rest                                                                                                                          but to write the word processing my thoughts                                                                                                        to paper is right angle that he has I fought                                                                                                                                                   so I write on about life span the moments                                                                                                                for the right memory stick to the components                                                                                                                 to see something radiant energy to complete                                                                                                                      this task of the heart attack the concrete                                                                                                                                       lying in the grass root out the problem at hand                                                                                                            got my rhythm back street is the band                                                                                                                                this will work boots on the ground                                                                                                                                stay the course work abounds                                                                                                                                        just to see the comic strip the necessities                                                                                                                       it may not be virtual reality is one’s abilities
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: root out, inspiration, introspection, poetry, spoken
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Pinktober 2

Me
A lump!
Why? 
How did it get there?
Please make it go away
I'm scared, I have to finish my shower so I can tell mom

Three days later I wake up groggy, vomiting, in pain, and much disoriented with one breast bigger than the other 


Mom!

Mom

They caught it in time.
The doctor found three lumps one on top of the other ready to root out
 
 
Why do you exist?

I address you with concern because I'm irate
All you do is create distress
I understand that you do not discriminate
You attack and destroy my body tissue

I stepped into the ring with you
And blocked all your punches
Now I need to get my rest to feel my best
To germinate, developed, and bloom like a beautiful rose that I am
I've lost a breast because you exist
I'm going to fight and beat you to the very end
I will never lose hope
I will celebrate each day

9/13/2015

I was 17, naive, and very frightened when I discovered a lump in my left breast.
I was very fortunate that they did not remove the breast if the cancer hadn't spread.
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: root out, cancer, sick,
Form: Free verse


An Exceeding Great Army

AN EXCEEDING GREAT ARMY

Because of the missing sword
A soldier falls,
And another,
And another,
And another…

When was their birth?
What hastens their death?
Christ paid the debt
He fought with that sword
Till all forces bow…

But for this missing sword
A soldier crumbles,
And another,
And another,
And another…

They are well dressed:
In military attire
But are armed with brass weapons:
With spears and rifles!
Where is the amour, the shield,
the breastplate, the helmet and the sword?

Yet, for the want of that sword
A soldier falters,
And another,
And another,
And another…

On mountain tops,
Hills and valleys:
Day and night;
Toiling, preparing and waiting
To combat the enemy,
But never search for the missing weapon.

Still, for the want of that sword
A soldier dies,
And another,
And another,
And another…

Their camp is ravaged
Each soldier for his dear life;
The night of horror came
The dawn of victory followed
Each soldier remembers the missing weapon
From their hidey-hole, loudly they scream,
“The sword! The sword!! The sword!!!”

Will the sword ever be found?
No army is declared the Champion
Without going through a battle;
No victory is secured
With the parade of cheap weapons;

Then a soldier returns
And another,
And another,
And another...

And... the SWORD was found
Removed from its sheath; and sharpened
To fight the good fight
And take their rightful place

Then a soldier fights,
And another,
And another,
And another…

Now... the SWORD was found
The army of God has risen
With bleeding skin
And broken bones.
Like the dried bones, they are awake:
Covered with the sinews of faith,
And filled with the breath of fire
To thresh mountains
And dominate their enemies.

Then a soldier lives,
And another,
And another,
And another...

The camp is restored
The enemy is destroyed
An exceeding great army has risen
To root out and to pull down
To destroy and to throw down
To build and to plant…


Then a soldier rejoices,
And another,
And another,
And another...
Categories: root out, adventure, faith, missing, missing,
Form: Narrative

Last Puddle

last puddle dried out 

oil still to find .. more valuable 

now root out the soil 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

once a poet , always a poet .. your words won't flow through the pen 
this is just an extension of our mind .. real poetry is to find in the heart & the mind .. thats 
where te mental ink flows
Categories: root out,
Form: Haiku

From the Overlook

a Spanish sonnet

Passion thrives on forgiveness, oh my sweet.
Your scorn will reason well to wonder why 
I attempt a smile even though your eyes   
refuse to cherish blooms laid at your feet. 
We need to take stock of trust when we meet;  
weeds of abomination  poke and pry.
From the overlook, my soul heaves a sigh,
you uproot our relationship with deceit. 

Your lie lacked confirmation from the start - 
why you would mock or kid, I do not know. 
Struggle rose within this admiring heart;   
impatience flames and yet I rise with hoe
of love to root out what your two lips thwart.
Each day, sees me at work melting your snow.


I think patience works well to promote passion in love relationships.
Notice the words in italics in the second stanza, flowers bloom there.
Categories: root out, forgiveness, passion, romance,
Form: Sonnet

The Young Turks

I'm inspired by their bravery
To root out the truth and lies
To help the ignorant people
Tear the wool off of their eyes

I admire their fearlessness
To fight the blatant perversity
Of our corporate owned government
Despite all the adversity

They hold people accountable
They challenge the propriety
Of the sell-out politicians 
In our so-called moral society

They expose all the corruption
The fear mongering media conceals
By empowering us with the facts
And not the propaganda wheels

Some think that they're too liberal
Some think they're overzealous
These "some" are "the establishment"
And I think they're just jealous!

By Marilyn Hernandez

Dedicated to Ana Kasparian, Cenk Uygur, and everyone behind the amazing TYT Network, the only news I trust!
Categories: root out, america, dedication, political, society,
Form: Rhyme

Sweat From the Young

This once soft hands sows the seed
in soil and sun on farm fields we deed,
lads like me sweat hard and we are a creed
each has a story that makes heart bleed.

away from study and play we work to feed
poverty stricken my toil is a dire need,
when all our deed yields to succeed
it fills the coffers of my landlord’s  greed.

Is there a pesticide to kill the poverty weed
a spray to root out the lack till we are freed,
this once soft hands and heart makes this plead.


9-April-2016
Contest: Images that make you think
Picture - 1
Sponsored by: Silent One
Categories: root out, child abuse,
Form: Monorhyme

The Beau's Tale

Love is some thing i entreat 
Of which without it my eyes are in  the murk of picket -eye lids,
 It is a Croft on which our spirits  first grub
To then be able sour among the  lunar stars.
Some call it cloud nine but i choose to call it divine,
Never likened to the camels of the caravan as
 Gradually their necks tarry on the dwindled dust
Till their mouths become a canister  of drivel:
Malign,prate and gab.

Fair it is but not as fair as fickle:
Oh yes, leaves turn brown in winter
And Dross gives way for the sinter!.
“All must go in whimsical bearing”
Thats what the clock sings

Brighter is its glass as it is brittle:
To which  on wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry:
astounding work of art polished in tears.

He who cares to listen to a messy secret  should 
Strike the egg  first against the wall !

Two loves i bear,of comfort and despair,
My better angel a man right and fair,
My worse spirit a womans coloured ill.
 
she is my rainbow overhead my sea,
Seven  colours painted in the skies
 but three shall always sting my eyes  
as they are green,red and blue.

As i saunter through  grasslands and natures green 
I reminisce on how i sang to the trees and shrub
Of her i call my queen.
Yet her iris remains green  to a phantom  
to which she does espy  as a simulacrum of her  very being.

Red is what oozes from the Dart 
when she hits the  bulls-eyes of my heart ,
she burned with love  as straw with red fire flamed
but burned out as straw out burned.

Blue is the dark cloudy weather
Where fallen  beau Gazes  placid to the sea
Faraway  the single stag,banished to a lonely crag
To watch birds fly in and out of man:

Mariage is  rarely bliss
Wherein a lovers kiss either be felt
Or break the loved ones neck.
Though the face  at which i glare in the mirror  be cruel,
For year after year it nauseates  an ageing suitor,
It has sufficient mass to be altogether there
Never likened to an indeterminate gruel 
Randomly placed here and there.
Categories: root out, friendship, hope, love, work,
Form:

Smoke Clouds

My master's shaft of light is forbidding;
Still, I have enough sense left to keep hidden.

If he cannot find me, he will not hurt me;
my silence, a bold plea for safety.

Beneath the dank hay, prayer makes perfect sense -
what he does not know, my only defense.

His flashlight flickers while making its arc
trying to root out the truth in the dark;

The battery dies; my brain gives birth to flight;
the barn door clicks shut, a plan starts to ignite.

The lock holds his hope for my safekeeping
when he returns, I will not be sleeping.

Knowing not to wait for his light's return,
I kindle the hayloft to cause a slow burn.

Hoping the dampness slows down a fast start,
this new shaft of light warms my anxious heart.

Sure of his soon return with dog and with cane
I wait my escape from flogging's sharp pain.

Hearing both my foes and the handle’s quick jolt,
as they head for the blaze, it's my chance to bolt.

Latching the barn door, ere I make my flight,
dark clouds cover the moon, shielding its light.

Headed to unknown beginnings, I now succumb
Everything's behind me, everything's become.


Author’s Notes:  last line is a reference to Tap Turns on the Water by CCS (Alexis Korner, John Cameron)


February 13, 2013
Categories: root out, dark, graduation, life, light,
Form: Couplet

Cogent Clues and Critical Cues

Fire in my belly
Confidence in my mind
I confront challenges that I tackle daily
In a determined and concerted onslaught to find

Solutions I appreciate
Among several alternatives I explore
To root out hypocrites who ingratiate
Themselves to exploit my generosity more

Than moderation permits
In civilized society
Where a sleight of hand meets
With disapproval where humility

Scores priceless points
When set against a background
Of complex cultures at joints
Where juxtapositions of modernity and tradition abound

In their understanding
Of cohabitation, reflection, reconciliation and restoration 
To avoid garrulous grandstanding
In circumstances, settings and scenarios of remonstration and frustration 

When a meeting of moderate minds
Accommodating dissenting views
Of credible kinds
Thrives to disseminate among stakeholders cogent cues and critical clues.
Categories: root out, poems,
Form: Free verse

Let Us Life Be Colourful

Let us make the life colourful
piercing the gloom of heart and soul so's turn into bright
disrupting the sprees of bigotry ; stopping fight
which acts as sharp knife.
By spreading the morality of 
life.
Let them come where the stream of love 
has been flowing, end of all grief and pain
The air where the free will flow
and the humanity they will 
gain; 
I am bold enough to take a promise
to make the world wonderful and 
root out corruption and
brutality.
I will create such a world
where the monsters will not strive
each and all will be happy
dominated by compassion 
sympathetic enough to 
live. 
Peace and tranquility will flow 
in each and every field 
with the melodious tune of 
shepherd fife	
The end of the hatred and the jealousy
by my power and 
whip.
Categories: root out, anger,
Form: Verse
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