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When the olive tree blooms during April, olives are harvested with barrels, when it blossoms in June, they are harvested in handfuls.
Olive At Midnight
An olive at midnight
Green
shiny
globe
of
black
The size of a dirty workman's thumb
They (the olives) tumble towards me
Down hills and in still slick lakes of olive oil
I meet my dark shining olive
By suprise
It's midnight in the olive grove
My ciabatta catches him
spinning on the tastebuds together
My olive and I
Two star crossed lovers
One black
On green
Obscene nights of perpetual fulfillment
What a scene! my olive and me
My olive my heart
Oh my darling lovely one
Olive at midnight
At last
you have come to me
And together we will may a delightful
pair
my lips quake at the thought of you
quivering as you slither in a plate of oil
towards them
Olive at midnight
You have possessed me
I am yours
But too many press in
Only one is chosen
It is dark I cannot see you
Oh olive
Are you green?
Or black?
Does it matter I am not prejudice
My dear dear one
At midnight you thunder towards me
My heart is an earthquake
My brain a melting pot offondant cheese
I slice my ciabatta
A tiny onion a tomato pressed between
And you oh olive my love
I am done
Please leave
I am not hungry
It is past midnight
I must sleep
poem by Yvette Smith
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Dry Lands In June
Sometimes the rains do not come in June
Sometimes in June, darkness comes at noon
The earth comes very dry
And the inhabitants wonder why
The flowers begin to wither
Life becomes bitter
Lord, the scorn is so unusual
For yam and corn are no more visual
Father, raise up your mighty hand
And quench the thirst of the land
Remove any hand of iniquity
And bring back the integrity
Put a stop to whatever caused this death
So that the plants may recover their birth
We pray that we would never see such destructions
And restore June as a month of great expectations
poem by Mark Nyamekye Boadi
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Which Way Are You Goin'
Which way are you going, which side will you be on
Will you stand and watch while, all the seeds of hate are sown
Will you stand with those who say, let his will be done
One hand on the bible
One hand on the gun
One hand on the bible
One hand on the gun
Which way are you looking, is it hard to see
Do you say whats wrong for him, is not wrong for me
You walk the streets, righteousness but you refuse to understand
You say you love the baby
Then you crucify the man
You say you love the baby
Then you crucify the man
Everyday, things are changing, words once honored turned to lies
People wondering, can you blame them
Its to far to run, and to late to hide
Now you turn your back on, all the things that you used to preach
Now its let him live in freedom, if he lives like me
Well you light has changed, confusion rains, what have you become
All your olive branches turned to spears
When your flowers turned to guns
Your olive branches turned to spears
When your flowers turned to guns
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Olive Of Peace
Now sheath'd is the Sword that was wild as the blast:
The Tempest of Slaughter and Terror is past;
Old ALBION her Neighbour all smilingly hails—
For the OLIVE of PEACE blooms again in our Vales!
Beam on the day,
Thou Olive gay:
'Matchless is he
Who planted thee;
And mayst thou like him immortal be!'
Divinest of Olives, O, never was seen
A bloom so enchanting, a verdure so green!
Sweet, sweet do thy Beauties entwiningly smile
In the Vine-tree of France and the Oak of our Isle!
Beam on the day,
Thou Olive gay, &c.
Long, long did thy envied Exotic delay,
'Till the voice of HUMANITY charm'd thee away;
And here, ever here mayst thou bloom in repose,
As firm as our Oak-tree, and gay as the Rose!
Bloom on the day,
Thou Olive gay, &c.
Let ALCIDES his Poplar of Majesty prize,
And VENUS her Myrtle exalt to the skies:
FRANCE and ALBION excell all the Gods of old Greece—
For they crown their wise heads with the OLIVE of PEACE!
Bloom on the day,
Thou Olive gay, &c.
The delicate Lily may gracefully mount,
And the Pink all her charms with the Rainbow recount;
Green, green is the Olive on ALBION'S brow,
And the Lily and Pink to the Olive must bow!
Bloom on the day,
Thou Olive gay, &c.
Thou Olive divine, may Eternity's Sun
Beam warm where thy roots thro' the ages shall run;
The Dew of Affection 'light soft where they twine,
And the Love of an Universe stamp thee divine!
Bloom on the day,
Thou Olive gay:
'Matchless was he
Who planted thee;
And mayst thou like him immortal be!'
poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
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Another Way of Love
I
June was not over
Though past the full,
And the best of her roses
Had yet to blow,
When a man I know
(But shall not discover,
Since ears are dull,
And time discloses)
Turned him and said with a man's true air,
Half sighing a smile in a yawn, as 'twere,—
"If I tire of your June, will she greatly care?"
II
Well, dear, in-doors with you!
True! serene deadness
Tries a man's temper.
What's in the blossom
June wears on her bosom?
Can it clear scores with you?
Sweetness and redness.
Eadem semper!
Go, let me care for it greatly or slightly!
If June mend her bower now, your hand left unsightly
By plucking the roses,—my June will do rightly.
III
And after, for pastime,
If June be refulgent
With flowers in completeness,
All petals, no prickles,
Delicious as trickles
Of wine poured at mass-time,—
And choose One indulgent
To redness and sweetness:
Or if, with experience of man and of spider,
June use my June-lightning, the strong insect-ridder,
And stop the fresh film-work,—why, June will consider.
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In The Garden Of Olives
the garden of olives is silent.
it has been silent for years.
no one wants to tell its story.
about a garden of olives and
how blood reaches there
there it is, unreached by humanity,
untouched by the fingers of civilization
certified virgin garden of olives.
three shadows on twilight.
gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I come bearing an olive branch in one hand, and the freedom fighter's gun in the other. Do not let the olive branch fall from my hand.
quote by Yasser Arafat
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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June Bug
it was june
the flowers were out
the air felt sweet
children came out to play
the smell of cotton candy
the fresh taste of cold beer
the sun warm on his cheeks
suddenly she was there
like a plant now born
smilling and reaching for his hand
he melted inside
his head swirled
he was bitten by the june bug
poem by Yvonne Selase Nyahe
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Juno Gave the Summer
A sun for hearts – tempered rhythm in her flares;
The naked tan – bikini line a cry for stares;
Gregarious green, beguiled by colours en rapport –
The park’s alive! So what’s to hanker after more?
Children scream while parents dream their fantasies,
Igniting under brilliance –
They think they share resilience to the
Ultraviolet hues;
To lie displayed au naturel
Is what they’d rather choose!
And Helios peers at lovers in their
Heady worlds: vibrant leas to
Roam in hand; calming seas –
Satin sand insensible as
Water runs her ripples cross the
Shore – so like the park, it really
Cries for very little more!
In the garden, roses clamber for attention –
Pouting blooms, wafting scent –
Our floral monarch June’s event!
And fingers green receive the praise
From toiling hard for coloured blaze.
Compelled, I walk the countenance of sunny June
As Mother Nature danced amok in her saloon
Of roaring life, that came of youth in early spring
And nurtured in maternal warmth beneath her wing.
Eyes bedewed, I mellow in a reverie
– Hope renewed –
As Juno saw to suckle me with
Quintessential summer.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
All rights reserved
See the link below for notes on this poem:
http: //succumbedtothinking.webs.com/featuredpoems.htm
June June June June June June June in summer
Summer for June summer for June summer for June in summer
June June June June June June June in summer
Summer for June summer for June summer for June in summer
June June June June June June June in summer
Summer for June summer for June summer for June in summer
June June June June June June June in summer
Summer for June summer for June summer for June in summer
Summer summer June summer June in summer summer
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Evening In June
(Van Morrison)
By the light of the moon
When the night holds the secrets
Of the sleepy lagoon
I'm contemplating moonlight
On the water
When I'm walking with you
On an evening in June
On an evening in June
It can get so sentimental
When I'm thinking of you
And I can't think of anything
Except being with you
When the summer is through
On an evening in June
On an evening in June
Well it lifts me up
When I'm talking to you
On an evening in June
When the flowers are in bloom
And the sky is so blue
Well there's so many things
Taking place
That it's hard to keep up with it all
Keep your eye on the ball
And to make the right call
When we're longing for fall
On this evening in June
[Instrumental break]
On an evening in June
Well it lifts me up
When I'm talking to you
On an evening in June
When the flowers are in bloom
And the sky is so blue
Well there's so many things taking place
That it's hard to keep up with it all
Keep your eye on the ball
And to make the right call
When we're longing for fall
On this evening in June
By the sleepy lagoon
On an evening in June
By the light of the moon
By the sleepy lagoon
On an evening in June
On an evening in June
By the sleepy lagoon
By the light of the moon
By the sleepy lagoon
On an evening in June
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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June - It's Raining...
Walking down the lone street
Romancing the June rain
I met him for the first time
Call it chance or destiny
It was raining Love
First time when we kissed
We danced in the June rain
Got lost in its rhythm
I walked down the aisle
He took my hand forever
June showered her blessings
How we loved the June rain!
June is back once again
Rain and romance everywhere
Alone I sit, beside his grave
Rain pouring down my eyes
poem by Deepthi Vincent
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In View of the Biblical Zoo
Over the tree line towards the valleys end
Abed Abed-Rabbo raises a hand
The farm he surveys, his father's before him
Has been past down for generations in keeping with custom
In view of the Biblical Zoo
A farm of olives trees is a refreshing contrast
Against an imposing backdropp of urban concrete
And an ever expanding city complex
But because of the need for living space
This established ecosystem is being replaced
And Abed Abed-Rabbo is now forced to abdicate
His precious Olive farm, with its one room sleeping cave
Against urban sprawl and concrete walls
Alone one man can not possibly stand
And any amount of compensation cannot match
The resulting environmental impact
Even if it appears we live comfortably
In reality it is, pseudo-security
Without air or water quality
In an ever expanding city
© Calac
Abed Abed-Rabbo – A Palestinian farmer,48, inherited his farm full of olive trees overlooking the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo from his father and his grandfather.
The property in the village of Wallajeh, is situated on the southern edge of Jerusalem.
A decision to annex his farm full of olive trees into the city has been proposed due to the demand for apartment living space
poem by Chris Lane
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One Day In June
One day in June
I slipped away
Caught by desire
Drawn to the flame
My virtues disappeared
Light on my feet
Whispers as sweet as honey
Callin' to me
One day in June
One day in June
I felt the hunger
I ate the fruit
One day in June
So don't cry for me
I had my chance
I took a risk
I asked the wind to dance
Don't try to save me
I'm already gone
Everything's over
But I'm burning on
One day in June
One day in June
I felt the hunger
I ate the fruit
One day in June
And I don't like how it feels
To tell all these little lies
Tryin' to be the one you can count on
But all it's a thin disguise
I kissed it all goodbye
One day in June
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An olive branch
Can that happen ever?
Wars are averted forever
Olive branch in one hand with message of peace
For millions of people to live at ease
Many may doubt and see it as impossible
The wars are imposed and forcible
Slight provocation can engulf entire world
No country can afford to keep the relation in cold
Has world ever witnessed winning of war without fight?
Who would judge our action and emphatically say right?
Can peace be taken as last hope to see the light?
The peace should not be lost out of sight
Yes, mere gesture or process with olive branch is imprcaticable
The impossible result is achieved through and histroy can be tracable
World with the piles of atmoic weapons can’t dare to fight
Only peace with olive branch can lead us and make it alright
There may be threat behind olive branch diplomacy
Still it has increased the peace efforts with frequency
The world doesn’t want misery in the form of another war
We have missed opportunity but still are not very far
With deterrence on one hand and olive branch on another
The blame may be passed on to others
There may still be hidden efforts to defuse
No one may want wart but refuse
Olive branch strategy is right means of persuation
The war is ruled out and is out of question
There may be complete annihilation and destruction
It can succeed with powerful message and instruction
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Sweet Month Of June Is Now Gone
The sweet month of June is now gone
Can you believe me?
In June
We sat almost everyday
During the day
In our patios
And
The bumble bees
We heard going by
And at the same time they
Had collected the nectar from the flowers
Of our gardens
poem by Aldo Kraas
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If Not For June
If not for June,
My memories of Winter in December...
With a wish to witness,
The freshness of Spring March would bring...
Would not still remain so vivid.
As if only yesterday visited.
If not for June.
If not for June,
My eyesight would not be teased...
By the freedom felt in Summer,
With hopes that linger of those things I could do,
Under clear skies showing bright Sun.
And seeing the fun shared by nearly everyone,
If not for June.
And if not for June I would not be able to reminisce,
From so many experiences I could pick.
June seems to be the month I can do this.
With a thankfulness I am still in the midst,
Of a year that appears to have just begun.
With so much left to offer before it is done.
And for me this happens only when June comes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Good Poem
a good poem is as good as it makes you feel
good,
about yourself and your world, your pains
and joys, your sorrows and pains, all mixed up
into one salad
a bowl of greens and reds
a slice of lemon, black olives,
a little pinch of salt, a garnishing
of olive oil, and some
cheese.
and of course, the purple onions
that you peel one by one
tears and the lasting smile
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If the olive trees blossom in April, you'll have enough to collect them with barrels; if they bud in May, you'll have enough to fill a small measure; but if as late as June, you'll only be collecting handfuls.
Popeye & Olive
[We could write a song together... What do you wanna write about? Whoa, very massive respone, okay, Popeye and Olive]
Popeye had a girlfriend
She was named Olive
Popeye had a girlfriend
She was named Olive
[See, they'll crowd surf to anything... a song about Popeye and Olive]
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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