Growing Trees is a poem about making roots
in our own garden and extending branches towards
the world outside.
It's about taking care and caring, about the gardeners
that we all are.
Marie Wintzer
Don't second-guess
growing trees
write off
the unanswerable questions
plant every seed
springing forth -
a compatible labyrinth
welcome to the secret world
Cheryl Penn
Fresh from the oven, the collaborative poem Growing Trees, Vol.4 in Books of Ether, is now available for free download at Scribd. Here are a few lines from the poem, and for the full text please visit: https://www.scribd.com/doc/258595673/Growing-Trees
They said to him you don’t take
care of yourself in the midst of
of you/words/paint/roots
your memory may be wiped
but your hat was on
I could not see your eyes
inRows upon Rows
care of yourself in the midst of
mimosa madness
we shall have to get
someone fake to take careof you/words/paint/roots
your memory may be wiped
but your hat was on
I could not see your eyes
inRows upon Rows
of Phylogenic Trees.
You had a dream
Sit down, I will tell you
running backwards
with your hair
in your face
in a parallel world
where even Time cannot fly.
That's nice, but
can we make a living
with those shrubs
or are they only going to grow
roots-into-blind-pipes?
You know their mirrors
aren't that acute anymore
Are you sewed-up?
Sit down, I will tell you
running backwards
with your hair
in your face
in a parallel world
where even Time cannot fly.
That's nice, but
can we make a living
with those shrubs
or are they only going to grow
roots-into-blind-pipes?
You know their mirrors
aren't that acute anymore
Are you sewed-up?
collecting shattered glass roots
hitting dust from bookseagles on wooden cupboards
mirrored in dirty bowls
everything is off
when we dream backwards
in a discarded house.
Hey Dad
it’s Madison (from a parallel world
Sans trees)
how are you
fine, you
know
finea connectionlost.
hitting dust from bookseagles on wooden cupboards
mirrored in dirty bowls
everything is off
when we dream backwards
in a discarded house.
Hey Dad
it’s Madison (from a parallel world
Sans trees)
how are you
fine, you
know
finea connectionlost.
Maybe you should seethe Taxman on the Hill(he irons his electricity bills
but they don't love him back).
He too
lost connection
lost his mind on the Light Rail
lost his wedding ring in the mailbox
lost a decade of photographs
lost all craving for junk food
lost the remote while TV was watching him
It won't be long until
Dust relapses into Libraries
but they don't love him back).
He too
lost connection
lost his mind on the Light Rail
lost his wedding ring in the mailbox
lost a decade of photographs
lost all craving for junk food
lost the remote while TV was watching him
It won't be long until
Dust relapses into Libraries
