Small tree trunks can make the cart turn over.
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Head and Bottle
The downs will lose the sun, white alyssum
Lose the bees' hum;
But head and bottle tilted back in the cart
Will never part
Till I am cold as midnight and all my hours
Are beeless flowers.
He neither sees, nor hears, nor smells, nor thinks,
But only drinks,
Quiet in the yard where tree trunks do not lie
More quietly.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Chance Meetings
In the mazes of loitering people, the watchful and furtive,
The shadows of tree-trunks and shadows of leaves,
In the drowse of the sunlight, among the low voices,
I suddenly face you,
Your dark eyes return for a space from her who is with you,
They shine into mine with a sunlit desire,
They say an 'I love you, what star do you live on?'
They smile and then darken,
And silent, I answer 'You too-I have known you,-I love you!-'
And the shadows of tree-trunks and shadows of leaves
Interlace with low voices and footsteps and sunlight
To divide us forever
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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In The Jungle....two
at day-break,
elephants rub their back, on the trees,
smoothened over years.
and sandy showers, using their trunks,
making others feel small,
against their enormity.
elephants, boisterously breaking tree after tree,
plantation 's and huts,
in a frenzy for food.
look at the malaba squirrel, a busybee,
sporting a striped jacket,
hurrying and scurrying,
gathering food for sustenance.
search for food and water is everywhere.
in the jungle it is the survival f the fittest!
poem by Ritty Patnaik
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Small is indeed BIG! ! !
Small brooks together make a big RIVER.
Small giggles together make a big LAUGHTER.
Small mickles together make a big MUCKLE.
Small chuckles together make a big CACKLE.
Small steps together make STAIRCASE.
Small bubbles together make EFFERVESCENCE.
poem by Meetika Srivastava
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I'd like to get four people who do cart wheels very good, and make a cart.
quote by Mitch Hedberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was not great behind the counter. I had a week off without asking for it. Another time, we had a cart go up in flames, and we went out on another cart, which we wrecked by running it into the cart that was on fire.
Big Time
(ian hunter)
One more town on the merry-go-round
One more room with no view
One more punk eatin nothing but junk
Trin to make a phone call to you
Well maybe Ill never, get myself together
But somethings in the back of my mid
It only takes one call-you can laugh at em all
Youre never too small to hit the big time
One more slob feeling sick as a dog
After one more night on the booze
One more dive more dead that alive
Tryin to get my message through
Now, maybe Ill never get my self together
Maybe its the end of the line
But Im having a ball-bouncin off the walls
Youre never too small to hit the big time
Youre never too small, youre never too small
Youre never to small to hit the big time
They can make you crawl, they can make you fall
But youre never to small to hit the big time
Youre never too small, youre never to small
Youre never too small to hit the big time
If youre fat, if youre bald it dont matter at all
cos youre never to small-i said youre never to small
To hit the big time (yes indeed)
(the big time(- limousines)
(the big time)-you can have it all
(the big time)- I say youre never too small
One more crowd shoutin-turn it up loud
One more rose at my feet
One more ring from that cute little thing
One more reason to cheat
Well, maybe Ill never get myself together
Maybe its the end of the line...
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain Songs....
i have figured the sound
of tears
its rhythm from the moment
you turn red
and sob
and then i hear again
the songs
of rain
from that faraway
forest mountain
i, too, was all alone
figuring out myself the song of sorrow
how leaves fall
how grasses wilt
how the termites build their empire
upon the bones
of tree trunks
how the ants
eat the monkeys'
failures.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Blind Road Ahead and A Hill Too!
An old man older than me
and he pushes a cart with two water barrels
taken from the muddy river
for his small vegetable farm?
'Papa I could have push the cart
as the hill ahead.' I said.
'O my son thanks a lot, but
your dress get this dirt? '
'Never mind I just go for an interview
that's not a white-collar job,
collect the stray dogs for a rehabilitation camp
and it's actually a volunteer, not paid? '
Then the old man mutters; 'Good people get bad jobs sometimes
and bad people get handsome salaries for doing good jobs, it depends? '
And I pushed the cart till the end of the road
Then he said; 'Thank you son and good luck! '
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Odd musings of an impatient heart
A shopping cart sits alongside the road
Its taunts me as its stands there alone
Just a piece of metal to passers by
But I see that metal and swallow a sigh
And now I've had more than I can take
Its eating me up and I begin to wish
That I could leave this place for a while
Or maybe forever that would be even better
Maybe I could meet someone who is new
And his words would be only the truth
Not lies compared to the thoughts in his head
But I see this shopping cart stranded alone
Just waiting for someone to come take it home
And i wonder of all the things that could make me sad
How a lone shopping cart had the effect that it had
poem by Kamryn Chew
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When I was only three I planted a tree
When I was three I planted a tree. This was my tree and together we would always be. I gave it love and it to me, and so we were happy, me and my tree.
Then one day they came to see me and my tree. Men with no faces, and they said to me, you must go, and leave this tree.
Buy why I ask. For we've done no harm. Me and my tree, please let us be.
So they left us alone, me and my tree, but only for a while but I could not see.
Then one day they came and took me away. My tree was needed to save the day. Goods it will make it makes perfect sense. So we will take this tree, for wood we need. And so it was done, they took my tree.
And now I look around, my tree I no longer see. Taken from, this tree I planted when I was three.
poem by Brad Milner
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Sonnet: Vie Not With Others
So light is the wood of the willow-tree,
Yet, strong enough for cricket-bats to make;
So hard is the wood of the ebony,
Which heavy trunks of elephants dare take.
The bamboo-shoot, a musical reed makes,
And when ’tis green, elephants eat like cakes;
The paddy-straw is fit for just the cow;
The tallest grass to wind must always bow.
Each flower, frond, plant, tree, creatures on earth,
Has a role to play, predestined from birth;
One need not try to copy the other;
One can do just what one is meant for, brother.
There is nothing to vie with the next man;
Each one must do just whatever he can.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: All Creatures are Equal ‘fore God’s Eyes
‘What mammoth frame, ivory tusks, I’ve got! ’
‘No forest-king or beast dare challenge me! ’
‘I lift tree-trunks and battles too I’ve fought! ’
‘I stand and sleep: eat grass, green leaves only.’
The Ant that heard the Elephant’s words said:
‘Tho’ small in size, I labor hard, day/night! ’
‘I eat the biggest beast and men who’re dead! ’
‘I disappear in small cracks out of sight! ’
Each one on earth has merits/demerits;
God made all beings with purpose innate;
One can’t compare the poets that have writ,
Nor can we harbor jealousy or hate.
God expects just some things for which we’re made;
A heart’s a heart: a spade always a spade.
9-13-2002
poem by John Celes
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Neem tree
Neem treeis at the top
And this neem tree
As you see here
Infront of my house
Wellwisher of all
Those who are coming
And going here and there
Bowdown before it
As a mark of honour
At every step of life
And I like its leafs
Flowers fruits
Branchs barks
Twigs trunks.
Neem tree is at the top
At the top.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Mirage Beyond
what is in your mind?
a house to build,
a path to make
that which brings you
to a home
a clear pond
where you soon must bathe
and cool your skin
a tree full of leaves
sturdy barks and
strong trunks
a place for you to
rest
perhaps you are thinking
about death
and all of those who find
you still useful
shall knock the wood.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Seldom Asked
A horse familiar with pulling a cart,
Doesn't have to be taught...
What that experience is like.
Or is in need to have details of scenes,
Described by those riding in the cart...
As the horse pulls.
A horse familiar with pulling a cart,
Doesn't have to be taught...
What that experience is like.
A horse familiar with pulling a cart...
Is seldom asked,
About anything the horse knows and has seen...
On a path that is daily traveled.
Those in the cart,
Seldom repeat the ride.
And few, if any...
Know what it is like to pull their own weight,
And others.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Tree To Me
A Tree to Me
Once there was tree
It looks so strange to me
Wondering how it become a tree
A small sprout from a seed in my hand
Now, it's bigger than me.
Unfortunately, tree stood alone
Grows without heart and soul
No friend, no companion
But still stand strong
For you to help on
A tree is a friend to me
That set you free from calamity
From floods and erosion you are free
As you rest under the tree,
Think how lucky you are with a tree.
poem by Cristina Delos Santos
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Hiding Hollow
Weather chisels through,
Virgin hollow hiding tree trunks,
Nerves exposed.
poem by Prasad Natarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Just An Ordinary Tree
My existence
start from a little piece of seed...
First, I was bury on the ground...
Then, I showed my two cute leaves up in to world...
But it didn't end just like that...
I grow... more and more...
With love, hope and care,
I became a tree...
Tree with many leaves,
if you need some shady circumstance...
Tree with a strong wood,
if you need me to make a good wardrobe...
Tree with a tight root,
if you want to make a solid foundation...
Tree with a sincerely pray,
if you need a support...
Tree with an everlasting presence,
if you need a friend beside you forever...
Tree with a dry branch,
if you want to share your tears...
Tree with a pure dew,
if you feel thirsty...
Tree with a warm wind,
if you get cold and alone...
Tree with a full color's flowers,
if you feel your life so black and white...
Tree with many hopes,
if you lost your dreams away...
But... after all,
I'm just an ordinary Tree...
By: Tree
22 May 2007,7: 02 PM
No Difference
Small as a peanut,
Big as a giant,
We're all the same size
When we turn off the light
Rich as a sultan,
Poor as a mite,
We're all worth the same
When we turn off the light.
Red, black or orange,
Yellow or white,
We all look the same
When we turn off the light.
So maybe the way
To make everything right
Is for God to just reach out
And turn off the light!
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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