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The Trees
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
There is unrest in the forest
There is trouble with the trees
For the maples want more sunligh
And the oaks ignore their pleas
The trouble with the maples
(and theyre quite convinced theyre right)
They say the oaks are just too lofty
And they grab up all the light
But the oaks cant help their feelings
If they like the way theyre made
And they wonder why the maples
Cant be happy in their shade?
There is trouble in the forest
And the creatures all have fled
As the maples scream 'oppression!'
And the oaks, just shake their heads
So the maples formed a union
And demanded equal rights
the oaks are just too greedy
We will make them give us light
Now theres no more oak oppression
For they passed a noble law
And the trees are all kept equal
By hatchet,
Axe,
And saw ...
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And many strokes, though with a little axe, hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak.
William Shakespeare in King Henry VI
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Paint body art beautiful
her majesty the hand
with nail graffiti polish
pain in henna red
paint in henna black
paint paint my heart
paint body art faithful
faithful to the strokes
paint in strokes divine
paint in strokes of red
paint in strokes of black
paint paint my heart
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dennis
Your strokes are the strokes of man and,
My archive is full of your story;
But my black box is for Dennis my friend.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God is Great
God is great
Because when you fell
Upon a cliff
You really fell
And there were no angels
Who catch you
For safety
God is great
He opens the door
To your new world
Now, you have become
One spirit with him.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's valid that the Strokes and the Pleased have been influenced by some of the same bands. But it's invalid in the sense that we listen to the Strokes and try to sounds like them. I think that they are a good band.
quote by Joanna Newsom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Lightning and Tempest
The spring-wind pass'd through the forest, and whispered low in the leaves,
And the cedar toss'd her head, and the oak stood firm in his pride ;
The spring-wind pass'd through the town, through the housetops, casements, and eaves,
And whisper'd low in the hearts of the men, and the men replied,
Singing—'Let us rejoice in the light
Of our glory, and beauty, and might ;
Let us follow our own devices, and foster our own desires.
As firm as our oaks in our pride, as our cedars fair in our sight,
We stand like the trees of the forest that brave the frosts and the fires.'
The storm went forth to the forest, the plague went forth to the town,
And the men fell down to the plague, as the trees fell down to the gale ;
And their bloom was a ghastly pallor, and their smile was a ghastly frown,
And the song of their hearts was changed to a wild, disconsolate wail,
Crying—'God ! we have sinn'd, we have sinn'd,
We are bruised, we are shorn, we are thinn'd,
Our strength is turn'd to derision, our pride laid low in the dust,
Our cedars are cleft by Thy lightnings, our oaks are strew'd by Thy wind,
And we fall on our faces seeking Thine aid, though Thy wrath is just.'
poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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RITA'S Wrath
The year 2005 was hard as Rita came pelting my home.
Striking volatile and destructive,
Including dangers after she was long gone.
Rita screamed like banshees of the evil to come.
Rita downed great Oaks for spiders to encroach.
Brown Recluses attacked eight times unknown,
Testing my faith. two days later,
Close to amputations or death.
I owe my life to GOD,
Letting the sisters saving me from death.
My faith is strong;
Knowing Luke's story of GOD'S healing grace.
Rita took my Oaks, as GOD tested my faith.
My prayers were answered as GOD gave me grace.
GOD left me here for a job not yet complete.
My things were taken; yet, I was fortified in faith.
What was taken will be give back
For those who keep GOD'S faith...
poem by Howard Kern
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Strokes Of My Pen
With the strokes of my pen
I'll write again
words that come into view.
And those that come upon my words
will know me as they do.
For my heart will speak to them
and say
you, my readers have found a way
to read the thoughts
I leave behind
and then you'll find
you know me.
You won't need to see
my presence at all.
For all my words will make the call
and bare my soul to you.
And you will know just who I am.
The strokes of my pen are the clue.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Mountaineer
ERE Beowulf's song
Was heard from the ships,
Ere Roland had set
The horn to his lips:
In Ogham strokes
A name was writ:
That name his name
Lives in yet.
The strokes on the edge
Of the stone might count
The acres he has
On this bare mount;
But he remembers
The pillar-stone,
And knows that he is
Of the seed of Eoin.
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Frozen Vapours
Heavily overcast sky
With dark clouds
Gentle piercing wind
Rattles oaks, deodhars and pines
Whispers to rodhodendrons
Bloom time not far behind
Birds to safe havens fly
With spring
Again to arrive
Oaks, deodhars and pines
And apple trees
Not far behind
Greet the frozen vapours
With a warm smile.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The number of strokes to the inch controls the pitch of the note: the more, the higher the pitch; the fewer, the lower the pitch, the size of the stroke controls the loudness... the tone quality is the most difficult element to control, it is made by the shape of the strokes.
quote by Norman McLaren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Colours Fly & Catherine Wheel
''belle
Never turn your back
Great times attack
Inexpensive thrills
And I said belle
Of all the friends who care
Some should be seen
But never heard
Colours fly and catherine wheels
Poor girls cry
In the beauty of both worlds
Catch a boy fell falling
Fall in love fell falling
Catch a boy fell falling
Fall in love fell falling
Catch a boy fell falling
Out of the sky
''belle
When the pulses rise
Love will tranquilize
Just before it kills
And I said belle
You turn them on
With your reflection
I know so well
Colours fly and catherine wheels
Poor girls cry
In the beauty of both worlds
Catch a boy fell falling
Fall in love fell falling
Catch a boy fell falling
Fall in love fell falling
Catch a boy fell falling
Out of the sky
Catch a boy fell falling
Fall in love fell falling
Catch a boy fell falling
Fall in love fell falling
Catch a boy fell falling
Out of the sky
Out of the sky
Colours fly and catherine wheels
Some girl cry
Over her boyfriend
When colours fly and catherine wheels
So when the colours fly
And when the catherine wheels...
Words & music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Forget who is your Father
God is Great
He created you and me so ladies and gentleman
he is the only person to praise and pray
Cause some of us we pray Alan people you pray him
who is him God is the one who created us
so guys help me to Thank him every time i'm sick i call him cause
he is the hiller the killer of diseases in the world
Help me to sing.
How great is our God sing with me how great is our God
all we sing is how great is our God age to age praise his
Great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great great great great great
GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD..
Thank you Help me pliz.
poem by Ruvimbo Daisy Matsika
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Among The Orchards
Already in the dew-wrapped vineyards dry
Dense weights of heat press down. The large bright drops
Shrink in the leaves. From dark acacia tops
The nuthatch flings his short reiterate cry;
And ever as the sun mounts hot and high
Thin voices crowd the grass. In soft long strokes
The wind goes murmuring through the mountain oaks.
Faint wefts creep out along the blue and die.
I hear far in among the motionless trees--
Shadows that sleep upon the shaven sod--
The thud of dropping apples. Reach on reach
Stretch plots of perfumed orchard, where the bees
Murmur among the full-fringed golden-rod,
Or cling half-drunken to the rotting peach.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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November Night
Across the wet november night
The church is bright with candlelight
And waiting evensong, (2x)
A single bell with plaintive strokes
Pleads louder than the stirring oaks
The leafless lanes along. (2x)
It calls the choirboys from their tea
And villagers, the two or three,
Damp down the kitchen fire (2x)
Let out the cat, and up the lane
Go paddling through the gentle rain
Of misty oxfordshire (2x)
On country morning sharp and clear
The penitent in faith draw near
And kneeling here below (2x)
Partake the heavenly banquet spread
Of sacramental wine and bread
And jesus presence know (2x)
And must that plaintive bell in vain
Plead loud along the dripping lane?
And must the building fall? (2x)
Not while we love the church and live
And of our charity will give
Our much, our more, our all (2x)
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Barks of Trees are best gathered in the Spring, if it be of great Trees, as Oaks or the like, because then they come easiest off, and so you may dry them if you please, but indeed your best way is to gather all Barks only for present use.
quote by Nicholas Culpeper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song of the Oak
The Druids waved their golden knives
And danced around the Oak
When they had sacrificed a man;
But though the learned search and scan
No single modern person can
Entirely see the joke.
But though they cut the throats of men
They cut not down the tree,
And from the blood the saplings spring
Of oak-woods yet to be.
But Ivywood, Lord Ivywood,
He rots the tree as ivy would,
He clings and crawls as ivy would
About the sacred tree.
King Charles he fled from Worcester fight
And hid him in the Oak;
In convent schools no man of tact
Would trace and praise his every act,
Or argue that he was in fact
A strict and sainted bloke.
But not by him the sacred woods
Have lost their fancies free,
And though he was extremely big
He did not break the tree.
But Ivywood, Lord Ivywood,
He breaks the tree as ivy would,
And eats the woods as ivy would
Between us and the sea.
Great Collingwood walked down the glade
And flung the acorns free,
That oaks might still be in the grove
As oaken as the beams above,
When the great Lover sailors love
Was kissed by Death at aea.
But though for him the oak-trees fell
To build the oaken ships,
The woodman worshipped what he smote
And honoured even the chips.
But Ivywood, Lord Ivywood,
He hates the tree as ivy would,
As the dragon of the ivy would
That has us in his grips.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Every Day People
Sometimes I'm right then I can be wrong
My own beliefs are in my songs
A butcher, a banker, Jack Irons on drums
Makes no difference what group I'm in
I am everyday people
Then it's the blue ones who can't accept
The green ones for living with
The black ones tryin' to be a skinny one
Different strokes for different folks
And so on and so on and scooby dooby dooby
Ooh sha sha
We gotta live together
I am no better and neither are you
We're all the same whatever we do
You love me you hate me
You know me and then
Still can't figure out the scene I'm in
I am everyday people
Then it's the new man
That doesn't like the short man
For being such a rich one
That will not help the poor one
Different strokes for different folks
And so on and so on scooby dooby dooby
Ooh sha sha
We got to live together
There is a yellow one that won't
Accept the black one
That won't accept the red one
That won't accept the white one
Different strokes for different folks
And so on and so on and
Scooby dooby dooby
Ooh sha sha
I am everyday people
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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