The forest has an ear, the field has an eye.
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Memory Of Childhood
Memories of childhood flash in to mind
Loitering from field to field was our trend
Yet now strikes me the memory of committing theft
In Act of dodge we used to run from forest to forest
For various kinds of joys we used to go on fishing
For mother the conch - caster - lotus we used to bring
Same song is singed by mynah and bird another kind
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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The road passed through a curtain of pine forest and came out on a flat, rolling snow field. In this field the sprawled or bunched bodies of Germans lay thick, like some dark shapeless vegetable.
quote by Martha Gellhorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Optometry
If you had not been a poet,
What other field of endeavor...
Would you have chosen to pursue?
'Without a doubt,
It would have been optometry.'
Why that particular field of study?
'It seems as though everyday,
I find myself in a debate with someone...
Over that which is clearly observed.
And,
They deny seeing the obvious.'
Maybe it is not so obvious to them.
'That's why,
Optometry would have been my chosen field of study.'
It's never too late you know.
'It is for a lot of people.
Many will never see the forest for the trees.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Love Field
You lie so unfolded
In a love field
With your contempt for any modesty
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
You yield with your lips still sealed
In a love field
Lost in a sea of imaginary women
Everything youd want
From the dawn to the dimming
Breath comes sharp and heart beats faster
In a love field
Cold ground for a pillow
Under a blanket of stars
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Headlights that startled
This embrace of hours
In a love field
In a crooked house
Where things can be arranged
You think youre different from the rest
But you dont see how youve changed
Under an archway
On a road of white linen
In a love field
Feel the anxious rhythm of a functional stranger
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Shes so tense but its never mentioned
In a love field
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Bunny FOOFOO -?
Little Bunny FooFoo,
hoppin' thru the forest.
Pickin' up field mice,
and boppin' 'em on the head.
(fairy comes)
Little Bunny FooFoo,
I don't wanna see you
pickin' up field mice,
and boppin' 'em on the head.
(fairy gives him 3 chances)
(he wastes them, im guessing, cause i dont really know)
Little Bunny FooFoo,
hoppin' thru the forest.
Pickin' up field mice,
and boppin' 'em on the head.
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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Heaps Of Rubble
Heaps of rubble,
Like the high places of the forest;
But you will be weeded like a field.
He or she who say i know Him but does not keep His Laws is a lair!
And the truth is not in him or her;
But the high places of the forest will bear the witness.
Revealing,
Differently,
Distinguishes,
Sons and daughters;
Compared to chemotherapy,
But only Yahweh can foretell future events.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Season
Ruby-veins crept into the foliage.
Then the pond was calm and wide.
By the forest's edge brightly scattered
Bluish speckles and brown dust lay.
A fisherman drew in his nets.
Then dusk came over the field.
But, a yard shined still palely illuminated
And maids brought fruit and wine.
Distantly a shepherd's song died after.
Then huts stood bleak and strange.
The forest in gray shroud
Evoked sad memory.
And overnight time became quiet
And an army of ravens flew
As if in black holes in the forest and moved
Toward the town's very distant ringing.
poem by Georg Trakl
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Shiloh - A Requiem
Skimming lightly, wheeling still,
The swallows fly low
Over the field in clouded days,
The forest-field of Shiloh --
Over the field where April rain
Solaced the parched one stretched in pain
Through the pause of night
That followed the Sunday fight
Around the church of Shiloh--
The church so lone, the log-built one,
That echoed to many a parting groan
And natural prayer
Of dying foemen mingled there --
Foemen at morn, but friends at eve --
Fame or country least their care:
(What like a bullet can undeceive!)
But now they lie low,
While over them the swallows skim,
And all is hushed at Shiloh.
poem by Herman Melville
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Don't poop in a field and don't talk in a forest.
Somehow They Understood That Immediately
Well...
It is a beginning.
That,
You will have to confess.
Admit it!
At least several of them,
Have seen a forest before.
However...
Many are still questioning,
The purpose for the trees.
'Well...
It is a beginning.
At least several of them,
Have seen a forest before.'
That's exactly what I said!
'I know.
I'm stalling for time.
I am attempting to create an answer,
That will first make sense to me.'
Good luck!
I've already told them,
I was not from their neighborhood.
And somehow they understood that immediately.
I am doing all I can to remember them...
As college students.
Good luck!
I'm glad I did not request this field trip.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Green Roads
The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,
Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.
Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.
An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.
In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.
It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.
That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,
For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see
The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.
poem by Edward Thomas
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The magic forest
At the Bois de Boulogne lies magic
Magic that cannot be evitable
Magic that lures people into the evergreen forest
In the forest, soft earth is like a comfy bed
Meadows of grass are green sheets for the bed
If you happen to lie down on the bed
The sunlight hugs your body gently like a mother
Your eyes are heavy weights, unable to keep your eyes open
You fall into the sweetest dream as time goes by…
Night walked into the forest as day walked out of the forest
The pale moon is like a glass eye of a witch staring at you
The dark magic falls into the forest
Lusty monsters fill the magic forest
And the magic forest falls asleep…
Concrete Forest
Gang banging
Street banging
Concrete Forest—
People dying
Children crying
Bullets flying
No remorse for the fallen—
Crack smoking
Prostitute selling
Cops stinging
Benefactors of trouble times—
Blood
Guts—inside body parts
Cultivate the Concrete Forest—
I see a mother kneeling
A priest praying
A child victimize—a father convicted
All within the Concrete Forest—
Sirens blowing
Lights flashing
Someone else dying
In the Concrete Forest—
Mercy on us
Compassion for us
Deliver us
From the Concrete Forest—
Restore our hope
Destroy the trepidation
Breathe life back into Concrete Forest—
It is time to go
My time is gone
My nightmares—relinquished
Within the Concrete Forest—
No more worrisome days
No more stressful nights
Freedom has come to me
In the Concrete Forest—
My freedom is now
Your comes later
But, not in this Concrete Forest—
Written by
Gregory E Upshaw
poem by Gregory Upshaw
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Divided Sky
Ahhh!
Divided sky, the wind blows high
[The divided sky chant is part of an ancient ritual dating back to the
pre-Wilson years of She purity in Gamehendge. After listening to the
sacred sounds for a sloping lawn, three chosen subjects eat a special
root collected at the base of the enormous mountain that rises in the
center of the forest. The root is believed to contain the spirit of
Icculus, who lives at the top of the mountain. After eating the root,
they venture into a vast field at sundown. The field is deep green,
and stretches as far as the eye can see in all directions. In the
center of the field stands an enormous black rhombus. They climb the
rhombus and begin to sing, paying homage to the gods of the night
sky
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Divided Sky
Ahhh!
Divided sky, the wind blows high
[the divided sky chant is part of an ancient ritual dating back to the
Pre-wilson years of she purity in gamehendge. after listening to the
Sacred sounds for a sloping lawn, three chosen subjects eat a special
Root collected at the base of the enormous mountain that rises in the
Center of the forest. the root is believed to contain the spirit of
Icculus, who lives at the top of the mountain. after eating the root,
They venture into a vast field at sundown. the field is deep green,
And stretches as far as the eye can see in all directions. in the
Center of the field stands an enormous black rhombus. they climb the
Rhombus and begin to sing, paying homage to the gods of the night
Sky.]
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Forest
By the sacred grove, where the waters flow
We will come and go, in the forest
In the summer rain, we will meet again
We will learn the code of the ancient ones
In the forest
By the waterfall, I will hold you in my arms
We will meet again by the leafy glade
In the shade of the forest
With your long robes on, we will surely roam
By the ancient roads, I will take you home
To the forest
In the forest, in the forest
In the forest, in the forest
With your long robes on, we will surely roam
By the ancient roads, I will take you home again
To the forest
Satisfy the soul baby
Birds sing all day long of the mother lode
We can let it roll, in the forest
With your long robes on
I know where youre coming from
By the big oak tree youve gotta come and go with me
In the forest, in the forest
In the forest, in the forest
By the waterfall
I will hold you in my arms, and we will meet again
By the leafy shade, in the, in the forest
Satisfy the soul
Birds sing all day long of the mother lode
We can surely let it roll, in the forest
With your long robes on
I know where youre coming from
We will surely roam, down by the ancient roads
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspired by Issa - your rice field, my rice field
your rice field, my rice field
the road between that leads
to our dreams in tokyo
your rice field, my rice field
the road between that leads
to our sons in tokyo
inspired
your rice field
my rice field
the same green
-Issa,1815
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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For survivability
Hunters have no concern
For the forest they hunt from.
Farmers have much concern
For the field they plough in.
Treat the society as farm land.
21.05.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I Go To The Field And To The Sky
I GO TO THE FIELD AND THE SKY
1)
I go to the field and the sky
I see the flowers
I no longer want to die.
2)
I go to the field and the sky
I see the flowers
I do not want to die.
3)
I go to the field and the sky
I see the yellow flowers
I love to be alive.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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