Short Branching Poems

tree of life
branching out and up
to the stars



posted on September 2, 2018...

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Bandages
Mask life's
Branching wounds...
Roots take hold
Sprouting red/blue
Veins in aloof eyes....

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Wispy clouds the last few days
Have spread thier tendrils high. 
With branching curves
And arching fingers
Caressed within the blue....

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Slender branching twig
Swaying on summer morning--
Stick insect waiting.


Written 9/4/2017 for Chris D. Aechtner's Premiere haiku contest II...

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Spring’s budding, branching arbors,
saplings to sappy seniors,
are all stalwarts with ringed hearts
and life giving leaves.


(inspired by Francine Roberts' contest) 5/24/11...

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Winding twisting spines
Wild hair
Frozen in time
Wrapped around like vines
Of red, and yellow there
Frozen in time
With branching spurting lines
That shed when there is ware
Frozen in time...

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Limbs of trees branching 

separate yet together

lives entwined by birth

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written 2-13-2016
Entwined Contest by Broken Wings
Fifth Place...

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Synchronicity
Of medium and message
Living through technology
Technology diffusing us

Nature does the same
Branching of the human mind
All signs converge between inner space
Below the surface
New worlds are churning...

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The bark of my knowing
is rotting away
With grain left exposing
what memory betrays
Those things I pushed outward
 root deeply within
As the oldest of wood
—makes the best violin

(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)...

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A more naked light filters through
branching nervous systems.
A fade and shade
seeps into dendritic pathways
shedding forever
falling leaves,
recollections of so many
dissolving
autumnal moments....

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the woods 
were made for the branching dreams 
of hunters...
the brooks 
for the trickling songs 
of fishermen... 
the mountains 
for the highest visions 
of climbers...
and the sea 
for the whispering secrets 
of sailors......

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love is.. a flood of seeds reaching upward to breath branching off see my heart start 
before torn apart takes hold..love is dreams left on pillows brought back to live 
hero's never say never doesn't exist when reaching to the sun for a kiss...

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love is.. a flood of seeds reaching upward to breath branching off see my heart start 
before torn apart takes hold..love is dreams left on pillows brought back to live 
hero's never say never doesn't exsist when reaching to the sun for a kiss...

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SPREAD LOVE (three haiku)

spread love    come on!    try!
be you like some growing tree
branching to the sky


no expectation
no!    love is a child of mind
no condemnation


love    not just giving
oh no!    to receive as well
you must be willing...

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It is the constant present
That we come to resent
The way time gains whats sent,

Sending the traveler backwards
Not into the mountains but towards
Valley's slung low as branching wards,

Cirrus clouds spread like handwriting
Facing the reader with their writing
Lest the journeyer stops to write....

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Bulbs

bulging,

bloating - burst,

braving brumal

bite ...



Bloom

brings buds

branching bold,

blessed by blossoms,

bright.




Written and submitted on March 13, 2019
For the "Light Up The Page 2" Poetry Contest
Joseph May, Sponsor.

(Syllables counted at HowManySyllables.com)...

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invasion
descendants deposed
cunning cuckoo

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

(c) John C Michaels, February 2017

I've posted two Haiku variants on the same theme: one is the traditional 5-7-5 form ("Cuckoo - A") and the other is me branching out to try a more contemporary style ("Cuckoo - B").  I hope you like them both....

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Leaving, moving on
Takes a heart filled with courage
Remembering love

Uprooted plants wilt
Searching for warm sunlight and
Raindrops to refresh

New roots are sprouting
Branching in all directions
Life begins anew

Forming bright colors
Shaping new inspirations
New chapters to read

Possibility
Invited by the changers
Risking the future...

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Uninvited guest;
progeniture subverted;
instinct or ill-will...?

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

(c) John C Michaels, February 2017

I've posted two Haiku variants on the same theme: one is the traditional 5-7-5 form ("Cuckoo - A") and the other is me branching out to try a more contemporary style ("Cuckoo - B").  I hope you like them both....

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Shadows sweep along 
the street, branching off 
in all directions,
radiating outward.

Heat ripples steamy air
as a woman pushes 
a silent baby in a carriage
up the way.

A plane in the distance 
stretches itself across
the accommodating azure sky,
sound of the engine a drone.

A breeze whispers 
capriciously,
teasing trees, 
teasing skin.

This moment, 
as is every,
is eternal....

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Lifesong
 
This is my song.
 It strums the notes
 that are rooted
 within my being
 These cords
 filled with love
 surround me
 carried on wings
 to the heavens
 swirling about
 to engulf
 those around me

 The melody
 plays soft
 in the valley low
 and echo loudly
 the joys
 of mountains climbed
 Overflowing
 my song
 springs forth
 branching out
 its welcome
 to those I adore....

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wings unfurled in protection
eroded from surrounding rudiments
along a beacon of illumination

visage composed and serene
branching arms cradling cleaving souls
afraid to fade into eternal rest

gifts born from remembrance
weeping, wilting, worn
beneath a wandering ivy-covered guide

quiescent consignor of peace
beyond the cessation of life
- suspended in advocation...

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Fey King knelt to me.
Hearts engraved with oak leaves
Songs of fires and green rosaries
Bands of merchants plying their wares
Queens ascending toward mountains glen
Scenes of battle and quests of yore
Live contention favors from source
Cosmic gardens Love branching forth
Trees connecting roots deep in the earth
Stars descending fall from the sky
Open secret I never die.
...

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As flowers wilt within the earth of indifference 
It becomes the choice of the owner, the viewer, to heal
Flow upon the petals with water of inspiration
Surround the stem with the embrace of hope
Prune the dying limbs with care to offer new life
Branching forever the possibilities of growth
Stand back, look again upon the flowers 
Revealing to them that they are forever beautiful...

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It cocks an eye at me.
I recall, as a boy, I stood
by a window looking at a sparrow
just like this one.
Every feather could be the same,
even the mien and stance
of the bird – the same.
I had never thought of myself
as a tree,
yet all my life
I’ve been branching away
from first roots.
Now I’m gnarled, not the same,
and still changing, 
but not this sparrow,
not any sparrow....

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