Uprooting Poems

SILLY BUT TRUE: A TANKAING FREE FLOW OF THE STATE OF OUR NATION

SILLY BUT TRUE:  A TANKAING FREE
FLOW OF THE STATE OF OUR NATION

Tariffing power,
With screwworm-like politics
Coopering our lives
Uprooting our lives:
Uprooting human justice,
Tree barking dread injustice:-

Military law,
Takes on nationwide control;
Policing all life:
Modern day monarchy times;
POTUS becoming king:-

Peace soon lay to rest;
The DOD, soon to be
The new DOW:
Download Other Wars coming,
As well as the new Red House:-

Yes, autocracy,
Displacing democracy,
Freely echoing
Power to do whatever
It wants to do, and will do!

Silly as it sounds,
All of this is as true as
The sun and the moon:
A true living reflection
Of the state of our nation:-

WAR'S PANDEMIA

Pandemic war plows
are now uprooting sown peace;
her fruits left to rot:-

RED POLITICAL BUGS

Red Political Bugs   

Mosquito-like bites,
Sucking blood, uprooting life:
Today’s politics:-

WAR'S OXYMORONIC JUSTIFICATION: AN AWARENESS HAIKU TRIO

WAR’S OXYMORONIC JUSTIFICATION
       (An Awareness Haiku Trio)

           They say, sowing war
           is a profound investment
           reaping fruits of peace:-

           Billions of bucks spent
           uprooting trillions of lives:
           Quadrillion bucks reaped:-

          Yes, sowing war seeds
           to reap peace, continues
           to be justified:-

IN THE GARDENING OF THE GENESIS AND REVELATION OF LIFE

For the blessed fruits of the blessed tree of life’s being,
Persecution and crucifixion have their time in life’s seasons;
Their demise coming with seasons of resurrection and ascension:-

Seasoning of life from Genesis to Revelations, has its time;
Let us ever be mindful that we’re fruits of God’s balboa tree of life,
With a quartet of years to sow and cultivate our seeds of justice:-

Thus, it’s time to get plowing and uprooting unjust seeds
Sown in the God given riverside just soil of His trees;
Indeed, as faithful garden balboa trees of God given life,
May we be in the blooming of ripe fruits His coming justice:-

May our plow sheds be ever fully stocked with tools of courage 
And faithful determination, cultivating us with God sent liberation:-
And while trials and tribulations may endure for grueling nights,
Let us be bearers of fruitful mornings;
Indeed, let us be as the fruiting sun in joyous dawning liberation,
And let bigotry be as a waning moon:-

Rooted: A Goodbye Letter to Chicago

Chicago, you rooted me down while lifting me up. Providing the nourishment I needed since I was a little stump. I’ve grown so much over the years and now ready to brave a new frontier. 
 
My root system traces back for generations. Sprouting offspring that remained planted for decades while weathering life’s gyrations. For most of my time I thought I’d stay grounded too. But the time has come to cultivate fresh soil to sow some seeds anew. 
 
The uprooting is stirring sadness deep in the dirt of my soul. Separating from my forest causing me to question if I’ll still be whole. Realizing why it’s so painful to say farewell is because the amount of strong oak trees I was surrounded by was so plentiful. 
 
The sadness is sure to come and go even after I depart, however my Chicago roots will forever remain entwined around the frame of my heart.

Save Environment: inspired by The Last Truck Ride by Ruskin Bond

Nathu a sturdy boy,
Comes to the valley to work instead of playing with a toy.
He says that for the daily essentials for his family he has to come down,
But still misses his hometown.
When he sees the uprooting of a tree,
He is in an awe that what will happen to the vegetation in his hills which are free.
When Pritam Singh was driving recklessly,
Nathu looks out of the window fearlessly.
He saw the sky above,
And the valley below.
He saw the deep valley below go by,
And watched the movement of the free sky.
During the accident he lies on the bed of thorns,
Pritam Singh goes to the hospital and meets Nathu who warns.
The true meaning of being a human is to plant on land,
And not to blast things out of the land.

Wind

Quote: And the tree said to the wind: “Leaf me alone!”  -- unknown

I am the invisible wind, always present but never seen 

I'm not just a void; I can be gentle, whispering songs through leaves 

I carry the sorrows of parted lovers across great distances 

But I'm not always gentle. raising tornadoes, leaving destruction in my wake 

In fields of gold, I move gracefully, causing waves of wheat to dance 

The fragrance of flowers is mine to carry, intoxicating all in my path 

I roar through mountains and valleys, uprooting trees and tearing off rooftops 

Often, I bring thunder and rain, casting a shadow of misery over the land 

In cities, I'm naughty, playing with umbrellas and lifting skirts with my  gusts

Unscratched Itch

Like uncared unfulfilled wishes creeping to the fore
Irresistible! Impossible, yet? Dilemmatic?
Shy about removing the robe that might reveal the core 
Could the cut be covered with the costliest cosmetic?

Disgruntled, like a lion brooding over a lost prey
This itch turns into karma leading to endless rebirth 
It becomes the root of my yokes on which I have no say
Expect I dare to scratch till stern stillness surrounds the girth.

Uprooting the weeds, forever, might be the best solution 
Could we pluck out the plants because they trouble a little?
Rubbing with a hard surface might be a substitution.
Though commonality amidst these acts is mere brittle 

If thirst, physical or spiritual, is timely quenched 
The fulfillment of the heart will never be wrenched.

Prison Song

Love lives on the other side
It may as well abide
On another planet,
These chains on my heart
And my spirit behind bars,
I am far from touch
Exiled from ecstasy,
As if I grow roots here
And as merciless time moves
They grow deeper
To any removal
I died with the uprooting.

Typhoon

G or T Personification Poetry Contest   Sponsored by: Joseph May
Written: August 22, 2023
______________________________________________________________

Deep in the typhoon of my maelstrom of anger.
I swirl in vile lunacy with a loud, sonorous clangor.
A reckless and unbridled pandemonium dance.
With wrath that growls such a hurricane's trance.

I recognize my sin and am beyond redemption.
Crawling over the foam, we still spurn the elation.
I am shameless—in uprooting majestic trees.
Crying with laughter as they fall to their knees.

My rage is unrestrained—my yell is obnoxious.
My unfurling may be spiteful to lead you nauseous.
I exact my vengeance on the meek and the humble.
Their dwellings cower—as I endeavor to crumble.

Shrapnel from broken glass flies everywhere.
Bringing delight to the masses with despair
Who dares to probe—my most shielded core?
They are doomed, in my eyes, to eternal sore.

I'm Typhoon—my heart's dark gulf is inert—a storm.
I don't care sense or pain—I wreck—I'm void of form.
While I'm unwinding—I won't bother with your fears.
My cyclonic anger leaves chaos, rampage, and tears.

Poetry Empire

*THE ELO’S POETRY EMPIRE* 

The Elo's Poetry Empire, with power so great,
Uprooting the weeds that were once so sedate.
Their words like a plow, tearing through the ground,
Their rhymes like a rain, making the wit abound.

Their verse, like a fire, igniting the mind,
Bringing new life to ideas once confined.
Their tales, like a breeze, lifting up the soul,
Making us feel, making us whole.

With each line they write, they bring growth and might,
To a world in need of some poetic light.
Their empire rising, spreading far and wide,
Bringing inspiration to those it might abide.

So let's raise a glass to this poetry crew,
Their Empire, so strong, a sight to view.
Their words, like a seed, sowing hope in the earth,
Their poetry, a gift, a celebration of worth.

So here's to The Elo's Poetry Empire,
Their influence spreading, a never-ending fire.
Their words, a beacon, in a world so dark,
A bright shining light, a poetic mark.

By Otieno Elvis Gikoi
THE ELO’S POETRY

Hiding Philadelphia

"Hiding Philadelphia"

The ground has cracked open 
like an egg, 
the shell scattered 
all about 
the yolk of life
sucked into the rubble 
where a child is born 
and carried out 
like a prayer 
an offering
to the silence
of mothers 
lost in the 
sentences
of the seven
churches
consorting
with angels and 
their lampstands
held in the right hand 
of a dead man walking
7 stars for branding
plucked from beanstalk
sits the enduring belief
ready or not, for planting, 
to harvest the uprooting faith
covered in its
blanket of darkness,
dreaming deep
in dust and ash
embryonic, 
a still birth
brought back to life;
the well hidden,
hiding Philadelphia,
reaching upwards
towards the light

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

Torrential Rain

Hubble bubble toil and trouble
I have water on the brain
The continuous flooding
It is driving us all insane
Rivers are overflowing
So are dams and creeks
Farmers are not sowing
And losing their cattle and sheep,
Streets have turned into rivers
Caused by torrential rain
The stress causes shivers
As it starts to pour again
Trees are uprooting
And crashing, causing harm
Dingy and boats are scooting
To stranded homes and farms
Vehicles and cars are left on the road,
Waiting for the rain to stop,
So they can be towed
To dry land, when they can find a spot,
Houses no longer liveable
It is unforgivable
Nature in the raw
What has this happened for?
Can somebody explain?
It has caused too much consternation,
Financial worries, ills and pain.

Baby Groot Faces Mountain Troll

He came down from the mountain to find a wife.
He looked under toadstools, pulling them up by the root.
Go get somebody who can stop him, we screamed with strife.
Someone came running back with baby Groot.

What good is he? We asked. How can he stop this troll?
The troll tore down a stone wall, uprooting worm and mole.
Baby Groot spoke to the mountain troll in a language he knew.
Troll sprouted some vines, and they began to grow anew.

Pretty soon he was standing as an oak with very pretty leaves.
How did you do that? We asked Baby Groot, who gave a little sneeze.
I told him if he became an oak, I would find him a wife.
Baby Groot kept looking for one, until the end of his life.

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