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That Beating Of The Bush
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I have this 'thing' about honest and truth.
And those who become offended,
By declaring them too harsh to accept!
There has not been an experience I received,
I regretted with a wish to forget!
And those attempting to live their lives,
In pretense to deceive believing this is not deception...
Will always escape with excuses and alibis to make.
Charading as if...
No one recognizes,
Who is in masquerade.
And who amongst them fakes!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
An honesty and truth spoken,
From deceivers is rare.
Those who deceive perceive...
Those who are direct and honest,
Are insensitive and do not care!
With a sharing of this mentality...
To those empathetic,
In a keeping of delusions...
Spared from despair!
But I know I'm not the only one...
Who elects to see,
Dishonesty from all people get up and leave.
I can't be!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Bush Begins to Speak
They know us not in England yet, their pens are overbold;
We're seen in fancy pictures that are fifty years too old.
They think we are a careless race - a childish race, and weak;
They'll know us yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
'The leaders that will be', the men of southern destiny,
Are not all found in cities that are builded by the sea;
They learn to love Australia by many a western creek,
They'll know them yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
All ready for the struggle, and waiting for the change,
The army of our future lies encamped beyond the range;
Australia, for her patriots, will not have far to seek;
They'll know her yet in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
We'll find the peace and comfort that our fathers could not find,
Or some shall strike the good old blow that leaves a mark behind.
We'll find the Truth and Liberty our fathers came to seek,
Or let them know in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Sorrow In The Wind
(jean ritchie)
I hear the soft wind sighing
In every bush and tree
The sound of my heart crying
When you are far from me
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
You leave me in the morning
Your footsteps die away
Tho not a leaf is stirring
I hear the wind all day
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
They say when love grows older
It dies and fades away
Yet all our life together
One ever brightening day
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Theres sorrow in the wind
When were apart, my darlin
Sweet sorrow in the wind
Sweet sorrow in the wind
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wind Blows Rustling Through The Bush
The wind blows rustling through the bush
and only it and God knows where it is going,
when it disappears and nothing move in the veldt
and when it returns some grains of dust are blown away.
An ibises raises gleaming copper into the sky
while God finds some answers for His earth,
and it chatters while big wings slam against the wind,
as it flies high over a small wooded hillock.
Guinea fowl peck along in the red grass,
after the rain some small bulbs are growing,
some lovely flowers astonish the veldt
but still this world is wounded by man.
The wind blows rustling through the bush
and when it returns some grains of dust are blown away.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fly with the wind
I want to be a bird
so beautiful and free
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a swan
so graceful and pure
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a hawk
with eyes that see the soul
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be an owl
wise queen of the night
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a dove
bringing good luck to many
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a parrot
with colors and wit
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be a nightingale
with the sweetest of voices
i want to fly like the wind
I want to be a raven
Darker than a starless night
I want to fly like the wind
I want to be me
and if I'm accepted
I will fly with the wind
poem by Alexianna Brandhagen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind Horse
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, gentle Wind horse, you were the last of your kind.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you were running wild and free.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, with this freedom you did nothing but give;
When one called for help you carried them to safety,
No enemy did you have.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave your life one day
To a boy with no leg.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave him your endless love.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you now run in the Great Hunting Grounds;
Giving joy to those there, as you did here.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, your life was not the last gift
You gave the People.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you prayed for us, you wished a wish for us.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we remember you through your brother Horse.
Wi: yo: h … It is good.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we see you still.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
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Progress
THEY’VE builded wooden timber tracks,
And a trolly with screaming brakes
Noses into the secret bush,
Into the birdless brooding bush,
And the tall old gums it takes.
And down in the sunny valley,
The snorting saw screams slow;
O bush that nursed my people,
O bush that cursed my people,
That flayed and made my people,
I weep to watch you go
poem by Frank Wilmot
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Bush warbler
again the bush warbler
perhaps another stroke
of good luck coming
inspired by
Bush warbler:
shits on the rice cakes
on the porch rail.
Translated by Robert Hass
Matsuo Basho
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ill Wind
Harold arlen / ted koehler
Blow, ill wind, blow away
Let me rest today
Youre blowin me no good
No good
Go, ill wind, go away
Skies are oh so gray
Around my neighborhood
And thats no good
*
Youre only misleading
The sunshine Im needing
Aint that a shame
Its so hard to keep up
With troubles that creep up
From out of nowhere
When loves to blame
So, ill wind, blow away
Let me rest today
Youre blowin me no good
No good
(repeat from *)
Ill wind
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The way it goes. (BY A 12 YEAR OLD)
The wind in your hair,
the wind in your face, the wind in your toes,
the wind up in space.
The wind down below,
or even up higher.
as cold as ice,
or as hot as fire.
When the wind tieds down,
the grass stops moving.
The trees are still,
and grandma starts snoring.
The day comes to night,
The sun turns to moon.
Then I have to wait,
till morning to use a spoon.
Good night my child,
now, you rest up good!
for now you'll be sleeping,
aswell as the neighborhood.
So as you sleep,
I'll continue to sing.
and when the day comes
you'll get the chance,
to sing to your kids, my love.
poem by Braylyn Thomasson
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Wind Me Up
I've got something
That you ought to know
Don't even know
Whether to come or go
Up down
Head's spinning around
Wind up in
The lost and found
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up, Wind me up
Tell me why
You make it so hard
All I ask is
Finish what you start
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up, Wind me up
Wind me up that's
All you do
Wind me up and
Leave me blue
I'd like to see if
You could be
Kind enough to me
When you
Wind me up
Don't take me places
Then wanna go home
Sometimes, I think
I'm better off alone
Hey girl, you know
What you do
Color me red
Then leave me blue
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I must go to the bush again
I must go to the bush again
and for a time be free,
from the inward chill
of the big city
and the emptiness
that life among strangers brings.
I must go to the bush again
and see the baobab trees,
frame against the setting sun
and know that somehow
the Almighty One
cares about everyone and me.
I must go to the bush again
and watch the wild buck,
drink from a stream
and see the crocodiles slide
into back into the water
and find the tranquillity
that nature brings.
I must go to the bush again
and give a prayer
and to find solace there,
from a world
that’s totally out of control.
poem by Gert Strydom
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27 Years In The Bush
27 years in the bush!
I am still finding my way through to reach to the city;
And i need a teacher on this issue to guid eme through this thick bush.
Life is very hard for me alone in this bush,
But i have to hide to save my name;
For the bombs are everywhere and many of my friends are dead already,
And i need a clever teacher who knows the bush very well to lead me on.
27 years in the bush!
Life in Africa does have many colours;
But my faith will surely lead me on till i reach to the city of love,
And i have to save myself from these bombs.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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On The Night Train
Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by?
Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry;
Here a patch of glassy water; there a glimpse of mystic sky?
Have you heard the still voice calling – yet so warm, and yet so cold:
"I'm the Mother-Bush that bore you! Come to me when you are old"?
Did you see the Bush below you sweeping darkly to the Range,
All unchanged and all unchanging, yet so very old and strange!
While you thought in softened anger of the things that did estrange?
(Did you hear the Bush a-calling, when your heart was young and bold:
"I'm the Mother-bush that nursed you; Come to me when you are old"?)
In the cutting or the tunnel, out of sight of stock or shed,
Did you hear the grey Bush calling from the pine-ridge overhead:
"You have seen the seas and cities – all is cold to you, or dead –
All seems done and all seems told, but the grey-light turns to gold!
I'm the Mother-Bush that loves you – come to me now you are old"?
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Good Old Concertina
’Twas merry when the hut was full
Of jolly girls and fellows.
We danced and sang until we burst
The concertina’s bellows.
From distant Darling to the sea,
From the Downs to Riverina,
Has e’er a gum in all the west
Not heard the concertina?
’Twas peaceful round the campfire blaze,
The long white branches o’er us;
We’d play the tunes of bygone days,
To some good old bush chorus.
Old Erin’s harp may sweeter be,
The Scottish pipes blow keener;
But sing an old bush song for me
To the good old concertina.
’Twas cosy by the hut-fire bright
When the pint pot passed between us;
We drowned the voice of the stormy night
With the good old concertina’s.
Though trouble drifts along the years,
And the pangs of care grow keener,
My heart is gladdened when it hears
That good old concertina.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Wild As The Wind (feat. Trisha Yearwood)
Johnny grew up
On the dark side of the law
Livin' in the shadow
Of the light he never saw
Rosie came 'round
In the way that true love does
Just when you're lookin' elsewhere
For the thing that never was
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
So they team up
And they traveled on thier way
Lookin' for forever
For every yesterday
She brings him hope
In the way that Angels do
Takin' him to heaven
In ways he never knew
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Every so often
He gets a stray look in his eye
She knows how to hold him
Without ever askin' why
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild As The Wind
Johnny grew up
On the dark side of the law
Livin in the shadow
Of the light he never saw
Rosie came round
In the way that true love does
Just when youre lookin elsewhere
For the thing that never was
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
So they team up
And they traveled on thier way
Lookin for forever
For every yesterday
She brings him hope
In the way that angels do
Takin him to heaven
In ways he never knew
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Every so often
He gets a stray look in his eye
She knows how to hold him
Without ever askin why
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O, how sad
O, how sad!
Why of visitors
Should there be not one?
In melancholy, where I dwell
The wind comes upon the bush-clover leaves.
To Noel Who Has George Bush Senior As His Hero
He say George Bush his hero but with him I don't agree
For George Bush bombers killed thousands just to set Kuwait free
And Saddam been defeated and two Countries been destroyed
And George Bush and John Major in allied victory take pride.
Noel say that I'm for Saddam but he has got it wrong
For on side of one who kill and maim I don't feel I belong
And Hussein is a killer and all who kill are bad
And George Bush just as bad as him which makes it all more sad.
Two hundred thousand Iraqis in Kuwait desert died
And the sands of Kuwait desert the shame of George Bush hide
And the Kuwait oil wells burning and blood's been shed for oil
And Kuwait now free Country but was it all worth while? .
And the sky o'er Kuwait desert from smoke as black as coal
And George Bush, Noel Johnson's hero, you can have your hero Noel
You applaud the allied bombers and condemn the I.R.A.
But they all throw bombs on people though you don't see it that way.
He say George Bush is his hero, George Bush who felt no shame
In murdering Iraqi people just to earn himself a name,
George Bush who bombed and murdered just to prove his country great
And whose crimes and shame lay covered by the white sands of Kuwait.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Private
This ploughman dead in battle slept out of doors
Many a frozen night, and merrily
Answered staid drinkers, good bedmen, and all bores:
"At Mrs Greenland's Hawthorn Bush," said he,
"I slept." None knew which bush. Above the town,
Beyond `The Drover', a hundred spot the down
In Wiltshire. And where now at last he sleeps
More sound in France -that, too, he secret keeps.
poem by Edward Thomas
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