Long Rooted Poems
Long Rooted Poems. Below are the most popular long Rooted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rooted poems by poem length and keyword.
Looking out my high-rise window
I can see shy Beauty
of civilly responsible
bird sheltering trees
Five of these
tunneling through man-made holes
in monotonously grey cement
step aside walks.
Lonely in my city window
I can see the desecrating drama
and trauma
inflicted on Gaia's organic integrity
Toxic shelters
treacherous streets
polluting smokestacks
Oil and gas fueled
Made In America
uncivil lack of holy natural
safe shelter.
Longing in my caged window
I can hear sirens screaming
and a car alarm
warning us it feels threatened
by incorporated investments
In pain
dispassion
pollution
anthropocentric dissolution.
On less barren days
when looking out this same window
I feel freer to learn
from trauma's malformed mystery
Looking up
at Gaia's heavenly sky
less troubled by unearthly anthro-hubris
as compared to trans-continental
pocked landscapes.
I notice how I feel
when looking outside
at the boarded-up house
across the street
As compared to
the organically organized green park
behind it
filled with sacred sheltering trees
Now quieting Earth's suffering
by singing with Her
up-reaching crowns of rooted trees
dancing to a holy breeze.
What is the taste of happiness, ask the trees rooted in tale,
And the wind brings on southern wings answers hidden in crests.
Is it sweet, like golden apples from immortal orchards,
Or bitter, like the wine from cups of kings long gone?
Its color lies hidden in the palette of shy dawns,
Or perhaps it hides in the venom of fiery, impassioned nights.
Does it shine, golden, in fragments of azure dreams,
Or is a soothing blue, reflected in the lake without its match?
A fascinating weave, on the loom of the fleeting moment,
Happiness paints itself in unsettled hues, ever-changing.
Like the dew on the soul of a flower opening at dawn,
Or the tearing pain of a leaf lost in the autumn wind?
Like the whispers of the forest, which knows the world's ancient secrets,
It speaks in the language of falling stars and moonless nights.
Happiness charges the air with the magic of an earthly echo—
A song of simplicity, rising and getting lost among the clouds.
Beyond our sphere, jade rivers murmur, bathing dozens of worlds,
Happiness flows, leaving its imprint in the heart of every speck of stardust.
We must drink it thirstily, as an elixir of eternity,
Just as leaves absorb their fate alongside the sunlight.
The taste of happiness, a corolla blooming at the end of consecrated roads,
Sprouts from depths, seeking light, shyly unfolds.
Its color is a mosaic stretched across the sky, from sunsets to dawns.
A silvery droplet in the ocean of blue—a dance of freedom.
In every story born from the hand of a dreamer,
Happiness vibrates in unison with the heart of the world, on a celestial harp.
We only understand it when silence wraps us in its heavenly cloak,
And in the sacred quiet, the taste and color of happiness are revealed.
The Masked Ghoul Mr. CinChief
Fear mongering and peddling crude dirt politics
Is his favorite tool of trade at as this moment...
The one they do call time and again Our able leader
One who hides behind vain smiles
And assurances of half ridden truths
With cleverly disguised yesterday’s lies
Carefully disguised as today’s half-truths
Has mesmerized the ignoramus masses
Into believing that he can still can deliver
Smiles and church assured appearances
Pleas are sworn then handsome handouts
With his nice looks can you fault him
Many are embittered thou they bought
Into this ninjas folly and gave him votes
Daily now is their lament and disillusionment
This had the Gen-zees pouring into the streets
To agitate against the Red Black and Green State
A country that has sold the future of its youth
To the demigods of greed and kakistocracy.. thou
The many youths believe a bright dawn beckons
With the coming of the promise of a new dawn
The rising of fresh leadership rooted in pan Africanism
With a fresh dose of non-bowed African renaissance
Revolution anthem the street resounds with the masses
This the price of revolution is in agitation
The awaited new dawn will deliver our people
Against the overwhelming feelings of hopelessness
Against a background of the portrayed greed
Against deep rooted neo colonialism in leadership
Into a pretty beckoning future of economic liberation
#Code254_AfricanReneissance
When we first met, our souls found one another
like fire discovering its purpose in the flame.
What began in uncertainty became long conversations,
shared moments, and growing affection.
Your heart arrived before mine,
while mine was still learning the rhythm of forever.
Yet the tides carried more storms than peace.
Trust was questioned, dedication was tested,
and every wave seemed to bring another argument
instead of another reason to stay.
The gentle breeze God sent to calm our spirits
often passed unnoticed,
while the ocean kept reminding us
that no ship reaches its destination
without two hands committed to the same compass.
I prayed for an everlasting covenant,
a home where love echoed louder than conflict,
where your children and mine
would stand beneath Heaven’s grace
as one family, rooted in faith and nourished by God.
But your heart searched distant shores,
believing freedom was found in traveling away,
while mine believed peace was found
in building something worth coming home to.
The patterns of yesterday still whispered around you,
while I longed to break every chain
and write a different legacy—
one of faith, forgiveness, loyalty, and love.
Still, I thank God for the season we shared.
For every sunrise over calm waters,
every breeze that carried hope,
and every lesson Heaven gently placed upon my heart.
Some journeys are not meant to reach the same shore.
Some ships drift until they quietly become
dead in the water.
And though my heart mourned what could have been,
I thank Heaven that my children never anchored themselves
to a future that was never meant to be.
May the winds of God’s grace carry us both
to the shores we were truly created to find,
where love is no longer questioned,
faith is no longer divided,
and peace finally becomes the tide that never leaves.
"Betrayal begins with trust" - Quote by Phish
Here's the story of a married couple...
They had the world on a string,
The blueprint to erect
A lasting foundation of togetherness.
They forged a covenant...
To comfortably repose forever
On the bed of dreams
The love they shared was
As solid as granite, as was
Their unwavering faith in one another.
Their relationship flourished.
It was firmly rooted to the ground
Like an Egyptian pyramid.
A sinewy bond that could never be
Severed, or so it seemed.
At the first sign of trouble,
A third party waiting in the wings
Wiggles herself through a crack
Between the two lovers;
Two becomes a crowd,
Betrayal gradually erodes trust.
A once steadfast union
Crumbles like Jenga blocks.
Their love withers on the vine;
Infidelity, the coup de grace.
Writing Challenge - B Quotes - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Date written: 05/22/2023
"Simhaladvipa or simply Simhala is the name of an island (dvipa) according to the Kathasaritsagara, chapter 56. Accordingly, “... there he [Candrasvamin] heard that the merchant Kanakavarman had gone from that island to an island named Karpura. In the same way he visited in turn the islands of Karpura, Suvarna and Simhala with merchants, hut he did not find the merchant whom he was in search of”.
The Kathasaritsagara (‘ocean of streams of story’), mentioning Simhaladvipa, is a famous Sanskrit epic story revolving around prince Naravahanadatta and his quest to become the emperor of the vidyadharas (celestial beings). The work is said to have been an adaptation of Gunadhya’s Brhatkatha consisting of 100,000 verses, which in turn is part of a larger work containing 700,000 verses."
Seren and Deep.
Simhaladvipa
Lamka Sri island so deep
the Seren and dip
the green mountain and,
deep-rooted, Adam and Eve
bright red ruby sparks
There is a legend of a cowboy down in Texas
To whom they give the sobriquet of Pecos Bill.
It's said he rooted and he tooted
As across the plains he scooted,
Stetsoned, jeaned, bowlegged, and booted,
Pursuing cows and wooing gals
As was his skill.
The story goes one day while Bill was out romancing,
A cyclone came and rudely whisked the gal away.
He hopped atop the thing to ride it,
Quickly lassoed and hogtied it,
Then none the worse for wear and tear and rough foreplay,
Out stepped the gal,
And Pecos Bill had saved the day.
Now, legends often tend to get a bit inflated,
And this one here is no exception to the rule.
Some say it's too exaggerated,
I say it's well imaginated.
Like alimony oilmen often pay their exes,
Things are always so much bigger down in Texas.
Of course, it's hogwash, rubbish, bunk,
And yet how often have I thunk
That the tale of Pecos Bill is kinda cool.
Eye in the sky screams "dreams are not reality;" yet it flies impossibly on whirling bionic wings. "the force is a fantasy," laughs the big screen; yet it motions this ironically through ionic streams. "No power in an evergreen," shrills the factory; cutting from the same cloth that had allowed us to breathe. "That vision? A symptom of insanity;" suggests the PHD, and recommends fixing something so deeply rooted by consuming this repeatedly; denying this notion is the very definition of what you suppose we carry. "But don't you want to bee with everybody?" Whisper the walls and empty streets. Could it be that everything is simultaneously, as stone lock and river key? Would it seem that all we need to coax the dread of uncertainty, is to each weave threads of teachings, unique? Bound with an understanding sure as gravity, until we are warm in the cold of infinity, in a quilt of minds set free.
Fragile flakes weave a soft duvet of snow
supplanting Fall colors with Winter white.
And blustery breezes begin to blow:
as a sullied sun slowly slips from sight
to the honks of migrating geese in flight.
Winter wails, amidst a flurry of flakes;
Her crystalline aura, composed of ice.
And She starts to freeze the rivers and lakes;
holding life ransom, in cold's crushing vise:
while awaiting Spring's warmth to meet her price.
Fall colors get whitewashed across the land,
Autumn lies buried beneath drifts of snow.
And the naked trees, stripped of their leaves, stand
barren, rooted to where nothing can grow:
even though it used to, not long ago.
A cold chill rides atop a frigid breeze:
all the songbirds have long since flown away.
And the temperature drops by degrees,
till it is too cold to go out to play:
and children are stranded indoors all day.
"listen..."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Film9G_4_U8&feature=player_embedded
.
Darling
my notes again
left scattered
upon the wind
with your name
on every one
became waving
streams of sun
shining dreams
my heart undone
and i watched…
while your name
became
flowers growing
under the moon
springing forth
into midnight dew
shimmers of gold
silver and blue
Natures bow
before the rain
it took just one
glance to know
and a fire became
from a waters flow
a sense with ease
creating breeze
dripping life
onto rooted trees
the embers
began to fall…....
a storm grew
a pulse became
the sound of true
and stars danced
within planets too
a timely romance
creations brew
Nature knows
from where it comes
i watched as I
became your name
and then my eyes
became the rain
upon a soft grass
on a golden shore
innocent creatures
creation adores
and I was bound
by your vow
you became the sea
and not quite awake
i came to be
somehow
the gentle form
of energy
that rocks with you.
;)
foundations
are grounding
your name became
everything
a hot cherry dropped
onto cool solutions
and a steam rose
burning hot
as Love
Form: