The olive grove of your grandfather, the cherry trees of your father, and your grape vines.
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Lamentable
Lamentable
Behind my cottage there was an olive grove
someone came knocked down the trees for
a better view, but it wasn’t true they built
four thousand dwellings instead and called
it a security zone. And then they built a wall
so I can’t see my lost olive grove.
The world agree with me this is all wrong,
but tells me I, for the sake of peace, must
understand and give way. I have understood
for sixty years and given way so many times,
and I know now I made a mistake to let their
cattle graze on our common land
poem by Oskar Hansen

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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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Show Me (Cherry Baby)
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry
I found you wanting
Like everyone
Always trying
Happy lying
cos Im no stranger
To the ways of the world
I felt like crying
I felt like dying
We took a coffee
You took it so strong
Shaded from the neon
I could still see your eyes
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Found in the gutter
With a knife in her back
Letter said sorry
Please dont worry
She had a lover
With danger in his eyes
I tried to tell her
But she had the wildest heart
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
song performed by by INXS

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Show Me
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry
I found you wanting
Like everyone
Always trying
Happy lying
'Cos I'm no stranger
To the ways of the world
I felt like crying
I felt like dying
We took a coffee
You took it so strong
Shaded from the neon
I could still see your eyes
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Found in the gutter
With a knife in her back
Letter said sorry
Please don't worry
She had a lover
With danger in his eyes
I tried to tell her
But she had the wildest heart
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Oh cherry baby
Oh cherry
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
Show me, show me
Show me how
song performed by by INXS

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cherry, Cherry Coupe
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
The wildest short around is my cherry, cherry coupe
Its the sharpest thing in town and the envy of my group
Its one of its kind and it really looks good
Chopped nose and deck with louvers on the hood
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
Chrome reversed rims with whitewall slicks
And it turns a quarter mile in one oh six
Door handles are off but you know Ill never miss em
They open when I want with the cellunoid system
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
My coupes tuck and roll underneath the hood
And the rugs, seats, and panels now are looking good
When I go looking for something to do
Shes got enough room now to barely seat two
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(my cherry coupe beats em up coming off the line)
Go cherry, cherry coupe now
(and she really gets sparks when she starts to whine)
song performed by by Beach Boys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cherry
your name is cherry
so I planted a cherry.
everyday
I watered the cherry
and the cherry grew big.
now I harvest the cherry
but you've gone far away.
oh, cherry
here's my cherry
but where are you now
.....cherry.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano

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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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The Old Family Picture
In the old
black-and-white
family picture,
I see
great grandfather
dead drunk
with his hat
slightly skewed.
In the same old
black-and-white
family picture,
I see
grandfather
as drunk as
his father is
with his hat
also slightly skewed.
Father fools
great grandfather
and grandfather
with his rice-washed-water
as the good old home-made
Makoli.
They all believe him.
1996
poem by Sangnam Nam

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Water into wine
Once upon a time,
Jesus, who called himself the true vine,
turned water into wine
in an act of love.
All over the world, right now,
a million grape vines
are performing the same miracle
slowly; silently; aided by the sun;
their roots, like farmers, coal or diamond miners,
searching in the earth
for the most precious;
it doesn’t hit the headlines
but who dares say
a patient, silent, unsung love
is any less a miracle?
Who dares say that grape vines
do not seek and love
their beautiful perfection?
miracles, an act of love;
love, that miracle unearned –
what may we do to earn, to drink,
that wine of Love, but love?
*
[with a bow to Hafiz]
poem by Michael Shepherd

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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cherry, Cherry
Cherry, cherry
Rozanda was her real name
But cherry was her chosen one
Everybody said that shed soon be dead
But cherry replied at least I had some fun (oh yes)
Her eyes were like a pool of 24 karat diamonds
I was the last in a long line of foolish men who dived in
Chorus:
Cherry, cherry
I think about u every rising sun
Whoa cherry, cherry
Wherever u are, I hope ure havin fun (oh yes)
Tuesday was my big game
North vs. central in basketball
Underneath their long coats
Cherry and the girls wore camisoles
Every time north would run the hoop
Cherry would flash em and they would fall
But not as hard as I fell
When cherry gave me her number and told me 2 call (u should call me)
Using all the money her boyfriend wilbur gave her, shed buy
Anything I wanted, thats why my babys so fly
Chorus
(do do do do do)
Me and cherry got married
And tried our best 2 keep it on the down low, the down low
I was combing her hair
The day that wilbur called and cussed her on the phone
He beat her up real bad and figured I was gonna leave her
Instead I bought a 45 and set out 2 relieve her (take him out)
If he was taken out then he could never harm another
No sooner than I got there, I was met by cherrys mother cryin
Cherry, cherry
Every night I ask the lord why? oh why?
Cherry, cherry
Another victim of a suicide (why oh why? )
Why?
Cherry, cherry
I think about u every rising sun
Whoa cherry, cherry
Wherever u are, I hope ure havin fun
I hope ure having fun, baby
Cherry, cherry
Id give anything 2 kiss u
Cherry, cherry
I guess I just miss u
Cherry
song performed by by Prince

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Playing At Bob Cherry
Playing at bob cherry
Tom and Nell and Hugh:
Cherry bob! cherry bob!
There's a bob for you.
Tom bobs a cherry
For gaping snapping Hugh,
While curly-pated Nelly
Snaps at it too.
Look, look, look -
Oh what a sight to see!
The wind is playing cherry bob
With the cherry tree.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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The Summer Yard
Twelve trees out back our forest deep
a place to fantasize,
and Tarzan’s jungle it became
Beneath those summer skies,
where I was Jane. We’d swing from trees
on knotted rope grape vines,
and roar our warbling jungle calls
within the yard’s confines,
Or putt putt golf course using bricks
and orange juice cans, we built
our nine holed run with obstacles
there in the root bound silt
and charged our friends five pennies each
to play the shaded course
with plastic clubs and Wiffle balls
from five and dime resource.
We built a town of boards and bricks
our domain we’d convert
traversing with our match box cars
those streets we carved from dirt
A holly tree was my retreat
From teasing brothers fled
I’d dream there in my smooth barked lair
and often times I read
Of Cherry Ames or Vickie Barr
to their worlds I’d retire
and ponder possibilities
of futures to aspire
This was our kingdom and we reigned
Neath sassafras and elm
Three city kids each summer ruled
This shady perfect realm
poem by B.V. Dahlen

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Our Domain
Twelve trees out back....our forest thick,
a place to fantasize,
and Tarzan’s jungle it became
beneath those summer skies,
where I was Jane. We’d swing from trees
on knotted rope grape vines,
and roar our warbling jungle calls
within the yard’s confines,
or putt putt golf course. Using bricks
and orange juice cans, we built
our nine holed run with obstacles
there in the root bound silt,
and charged our friends five pennies each
to play the shaded course
with plastic clubs and Wiffle balls
from five and dime resource.
We built a town of boards and bricks.
Our domain we’d convert,
traversing with our match box cars
those streets we carved from dirt.
A holly tree was my retreat
from teasing brothers fled.
I’d dream there in my smooth barked lair
and often times I read
of Cherry Ames or Vickie Barr.
To their worlds I’d retire
and ponder possibilities
of futures to aspire.
This was our kingdom and we reigned
'neath sassafras and elm.
Three city kids each summer ruled
this shady perfect realm
poem by B.V. Dahlen

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Bird Sanctuary
Between the cliff-rise and the beach
A slip of emerald I own;
With fig and olive, almond, peach,
cherry and plum-tree overgrown;
Glad-watered by a crystal spring
That carols through the silver night,
And populous with birds who sing
Gay madrigals for my delight.
Some merchants fain would buy my land
To build a stately pleasure dome.
Poor fools! they cannot understand
how pricelessly it is my home!
So luminous with living wings,
So musical with feathered joy . . .
Not for all pleasure fortune brings,
Would I such ecstasy destroy.
A thousand birds are in my grove,
Melodious from morn to night;
My fruit trees are their treasure trove,
Their happiness is my delight.
And through the sweet and shining days
They know their lover and their friend;
So I will shield in peace and praise
My innocents unto the end.
poem by Robert William Service

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The Cherry Trees
in that shinjuku lane
an old sakura tree
stands in my mind
grandma with her
bare hair
inspired by
The Cherry Trees
The cherry trees bend over and are shedding,
On the old road where all that passed are dead,
Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding
This early May morn when there is none to wed.
Edward Thomas
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Ode To The Cherry Blossom
I have grown up with this tree,
as my father had grown with it,
and his father before him.
The cherry blossom tree where I was first exposed to the beauty of nature,
where my baby seat was set upon the picnic blanket in the grass,
and I could watch the petals fall and dance around me and my family.
and they would land in my seat,
and I would play with them.
The cherry blossom tree,
with its long branches,
where I first learned to climb,
and where I got my first broken bone,
after I slipped while pretending to be a monkey.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we had our first play date together.
We ran around and played two person tag,
and two person hide and seek,
and two person leap frog.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we had our first date,
where I picked a blossom and put it in your hair,
and called you my hime,
my princess.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we took shelter from the pouring rain,
and I gave you my jacket to put over your head,
and we ran home to take a bath in our clothes,
Because they couldn’t have gotten wetter anyway.
The cherry blossom tree,
under which we said our vows,
and got married,
and you cried,
and said you felt beautiful,
and I kissed you,
and said you looked beautiful,
and we ran through the blossom petals.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we took our two daughters,
and watched them pick flowers,
and give them to you.
The cherry blossom tree,
where our daughters took their loves,
and probably got caught in the rain,
just as we did.
The cherry blossom tree,
which we would watch from the near by bench,
watch children who were not ours play there,
watch couples who were not us date there.
The cherry blossom tree,
where I go to remember you,
where I sometimes cry for you,
where our daughters cry for you.
I grew up with that cherry blossom tree,
and now as I wait to rejoin you,
my love,
I watch others grow with it too.
poem by Evan Puglisi

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Aftermath
'The Tree Still Stands! '
Exclaimed the boy clasping his hands
To his Father who was walking the rear,
And to his Grandfather who was nowhere near.
For happy was He.
For standing there so straight and tall
Was the tree whose limbs He crawled
And the branches from which He played,
And the root where His head once laid.
And the many leaves.
Now the Father whom hearing His Son
Came to his side in a moment run
Then He stopped; for the tree He saw
Then the Father just stood in awe,
And uttered; 'my old friend'.
For standing there was His friend
From which before His youth was spent
By climbing and playing games,
And hiding under, from the cold and rain.
And the wind.
Then the Grandfather came strolling up
And He paused, in a moment hush
To reflect to a different year
When He was a Child, and He cried a tear.
And He clasped His hands.
For he was then again a Child
And then again He cried and smiled,
For He remembered His Father and He,
And how together they planted a tree.
And it still stands.
'Thank GOD the tree still stands! '
Cried the Grandfather clasping His hands.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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Male parental hierarchy.
My parents are two, grandparents four
And great grandparents, eight and so on.
I am known by my father, his father,
And his father and so on by male side.
My mother, her mother and father, their
Mother and father and so on are ignored.
My fathers’ mother and grandfather’s
Mother and so on go to oblivion.
I am known by my father, his father
And his father and so on as a family.
All women from whom I have drawn
Their genes have been shut out.
Parental hierarchy is represented
By male, women dislodged at every stage.
25.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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The Life of a Grape
On the vine, the green fruit ripens,
Becoming fresh and well-rounded,
And such is the life of a grape.
In the sun, its sweet skin softens
On the branch where it's been bounded,
And such is the life of a grape.
The others grow fairly often.
Eventu'lly, it's surrounded,
And such is the life of a grape.
Then one day, away from the flocks,
It's plucked, dried, put into a box,
And such is the life of grape.
poem by Tim Stensloff

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