We must plant the sea and herd its animals using the sea as farmers instead of hunters. That is what civilization is all about - farming replacing hunting.
quote by Jacques Yves Cousteau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Wild F*#$ing Manners
hunting a tiger
big sharp teeth
man-eater
these hunters
big egos, big guns
hunting for survival
need fur and meat to survive
hunting wild game
wild f*#$ing manners
saw lioness and her cubs
on f*#$ing youtube
wild animals is to game theory
as man is to war
primitive yet perfect in movements
stop hunting these majestic creatures
they echo the intelligence we lack
in a far away land called our sub-conscience
only to find our only way to organized life
we're just animals on a hunting ground
poem by Inner Projection
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Family Bible & The Farmers Almanac
(lee thomas miller/bob regan)
My fathers father was the wisest man I ever knew
Sixty years of education
Seven years of school
Farming kept his body strong
At night the only books he owned
Kepted his mind sharp as a tack
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
When to plant
When to havest
How you weed just what you sow
When to look for rain and who to turn to when it dont
There was a plan for defrost
Salvation for the lost
Words to live and die by front to back
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
One came from his mother
Handed down the day she died
The co-op sent the other
Every year at christmastime
He knew the seasons to the day
Knew paul and peter by first name
He could answer any question he was asked
With the family Bible and the farmers almanac
When to plant
When to havest
How you weed just what you sow
When to look for rain and who to turn to when it dont
There was a plan for defrost
Salvation for the lost
Words to live and die by front to back
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
He knew the way to get
Through this life to the next
While others spoke of faith
He found the facts
In the family Bible and the farmers almanac
The family Bible and the farmers almanac
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Who Rejects Christ
There's farmers and there's farmers,
There's many a field and field,
But none of the farmers round about
Can haul such harvest-wagons out
As I from an acre's yield.
There's plenty and plenty of farmers
That leave the ground by the fence,
Thinking it's nice if a patch of roses
Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses
With nice little wild-rose scents.
I'm not like other farmers,
I make my farming pay;
I never go in for sentiment,
And seeing that roses yield no rent
I cut the stuff away.
A very good thing for farmers
If they would learn my way;
For crops are all that a good field grows,
And nothing is worse than a sniff of rose
In the good strong smell of hay.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's That Time Of Year Again
It's that time of year again
When the leaves are on the ground
Swirling like little tornadoes
With out even making a sound
The friends come calling
From the distant past
We all seem to be aging
And it seems way too fast
The grass and weeds are dying
Soon they will all be brown
And before you even know it
Snow will be covering the ground
Farmers are harvesting the crops
And cleaning up their fields
Then soon enough they'll know
How much they have yeild
Hunters are hitting the bush
Hunting for that wild game
Some are looking for fresh meat
While others are hunting for fame
The wild turkey had better stay hid
Because Thanksgiving will soon be here
And as we think of our four-fathers
We'll toast them with a new cheer
written 11/13/2012 by Norman Hale Jr.
poem by Norman Hale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deer Hunting Time Is Here Again
Deer hunting time is here again
And many hunters take to the woods
After months of planning with family and friends
They gather in common brotherhood
It's a freedom that fills the soul of a man
With the peace of God's nature all around
Lessons that have been taught since time began
And lifelong memories and friendships are found
Hunting is taught by tradition still yet
Knowledge passed on from man to man
And you'll learn things that you'll never forget
And respect nature more, our wildlife, and our land
So all you hunters enjoy this time
May you be skilled and have lots of luck
May God bless you as you hunt today
And may you bag that ten point buck! !
Dedicated to my Father who enjoyed hunting with family and friends all of his life. He died of a heart attack on the opening day, while hunting with my brothers and uncles. He could not have asked for a better way to go, doing what he loved most!
poem by Kathleen West
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pig Farming
Pig Farming
British farmers treat their pigs better
than their European counterparts,
straw strewn floors to walk on and
toys (usually footballs) to kick around
in the pen while they wait…
Alas, like their European brethrens
they will be slaughtered roasted, boiled
or smoked, usually when very young;
straw and toys are for you and I so we
can say we’re kind to animals we eat.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Forest Greeting
GOOD hunting! — aye, good hunting,
Wherever the forests call;
But ever a heart beats hot with fear,
And what of the birds that fall?
Good hunting! — aye, good hunting,
Wherever the north winds blow;
But what of the stag that calls for his mate?
And what of the wounded doe?
Good hunting! — aye, good hunting,
And ah! we are bold and strong;
But our triumph call through the forest hall
Is a brother's funeral song.
For we are brothers ever,
Panther and bird and bear;
Man and the weakest that fear his face,
Born to the nest or lair.
Yes, brothers, and who shall judge us?
Hunters and game are we;
But who gave the right for me to smite?
Who boasts when he smiteth me?
Good hunting! — aye, good hunting,
And dim is the forest track;
But the sportsman Death comes striding on:
Brothers, the way is black.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hunters Of Men
HAVE ye heard of our hunting, o'er mountain and glen,
Through cane-brake and forest, — the hunting of men?
The lords of our land to this hunting have gone,
As the fox-hunter follows the sound of the horn;
Hark! the cheer and the hallo! the crack of the whip,
And the yell of the hound as he fastens his grip!
All blithe are our hunters, and noble their match,
Though hundreds are caught, there are millions to catch.
So speed to their hunting, o'er mountain and glen,
Through cane-brake and forest, — the hunting of men!
Gay luck to our hunters! how nobly they ride
In the glow of their zeal, and the strength of their pride!
The priest with his cassock flung back on the wind,
Just screening the politic statesman behind;
The saint and the sinner, with cursing and prayer,
The drunk and the sober, ride merrily there.
And woman, kind woman, wife, widow, and maid,
For the good of the hunted, is lending her aid:
Her foot's in the stirrup, her hand on the rein,
How blithely she rides to the hunting of men!
Oh, goodly and grand is our hunting to see,
In this 'land of the brave and this home of the free.'
Priest, warrior, and statesman, from Georgia to Maine,
All mounting the saddle, all grasping the rein;
Right merrily hunting the black man, whose sin
Is the curl of his hair and the hue of his skin!
Woe, now, to the hunted who turns him at bay!
Will our hunters be turned from their purpose and prey?
Will their hearts fail within them? their nerves tremble, when
All roughly they ride to the hunting of men?
Ho! alms for our hunters! all weary and faint,
Wax the curse of the sinner and prayer of the saint.
The horn is wound faintly, the echoes are still,
Over cane-brake and river, and forest and hill.
Haste, alms for our hunters! the hunted once more
Have turned from their flight with their backs to the shore:
What right have they here in the home of the white,
Shadowed o'er by our banner of Freedom and Right?
Ho! alms for the hunters! or never again
Will they ride in their pomp to the hunting of men!
Alms, alms for our hunters! why will ye delay,
When their pride and their glory are melting away?
The parson has turned; for, on charge of his own,
Who goeth a warfare, or hunting, alone?
The politic statesman looks back with a sigh,
There is doubt in his heart, there is fear in his eye.
Oh, haste, lest that doubting and fear shall prevail,
And the head of his steed take the place of the tail.
Oh, haste, ere he leave us! for who will ride then,
For pleasure or gain, to the hunting of men?
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Its A Jungle Out There
(pilger, polen, moloney)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
I hear you call it civilization
Its a jungle out there
Its a jungle out there
Unending nights of temptation
Its a jungle out there
But you just dont care
Each night you dress up to kill them
Down at the watering hole
You stalk your prey with high fashion
With self control, you play the roll
The lonely and the lonely heart hunters
The neon love life, oh it cuts like a knife
I hear you call it civilization
Its a jungle out there
Its a jungle out there
The sounds and shadows surround you
Youre swinging vine to vine
Below the nightmare it gathers
Its like a jungle, at feeding time
Clawing through the crowd each night
Oh you set your trap so carefully, a trophy for your wall
Someone has you in their sights
You are both the hunters and the prey, no winners at all
I hear you call it civilization
Its ajungle out there
Its a jungle out there
Unending nights of temptation
Its ajungle out there
But you just dont care
Unending nights of temptation
Its a jungle out there
Its a jungle out there
Civilization! oh!
Its ajungle out there
You call it civilization
Its a jungle out there
Its a jungle out there
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Animals
I know what I need I need you
I cant see nothin else all I can see is you
I dont care what they say about my state of mind
I know whats good for me and you are just my kind
We are animals we are animals we are animals we are animals
I know what I want I want you
Shed your cloths forget your codes
You know this is nothing new
I smell your scent I taste your sweat
I feel this passion too
Lets trust our senses not our minds
Lets break all the rules
We are animals we are animals
We are animals we are animals
We are animals
We are animals
Come with me run with me leave this world behind
Come to me come with me I know that we will find
We are animals we are animals
We are animals we are animals
We are animals
We are animals
(m.charlton)
Copyright 1989 elgin music
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farming as we do it is hunting, and in the sea we act like barbarians.
quote by Jacques Yves Cousteau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hunting Season Is Open
Gun hunting season opens tomorrow morning
my husband is gathering his hunting gear around.
He'll be getting up really early in the morning
way before the break of dawn.
He's trying his special orange hunting cap on
so that he's not mistaken for a deer.
Us wives always worry about that you know
it is one of a hunter's wifes greatest fears.
The weather is suppose to be very cold and rainy
my husband says that is the best weather for hunting in.
Because the deer are on the move much more
then when it's warmer like some recent days have been.
I will say a prayer to our Lord above
asking that He protect all hunters, on this opening day.
And that they all come back with that Buck or Doe their after
and no bullets from their guns shot go astray.
poem by Linda Winchell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What do we plant when we plant a tree?
What do we get when we plant the tree?
We plant the ship which will cross the sea;
We plant the pencils to scribble our notes,
We plant the ballots to cast our votes;
We plant the paper in which we read,
The news that o'er wooden poles we speed,
We plant the piles to erect our docks;
We plant the rayon for shirts and socks.
What do we plant when we plant a tree?
We plant the houses for you and me;
We plant the rafters, the shingles, the floors,
We plant the studding, the lath, the doors,
The beams and siding, all the parts that be;
We plant the house when we plant the tree,
We plant the barrel, the box, the crate;
In which to ship all sorts of freight.
What do we plant when we plant a tree?
A thousand things that we daily see,
We plant the spire that out-towers the crag,
We plant the staff for our country's flag;
We plant the shade from the hot sun free,
We plant all these when we plant the tree.
poem by Henry Abbey
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Plant More Trees
Plant more trees
As it looks green
And save the homes of the animals please.
Plant more trees
As it looks green
To keep the humans safe
From pollution and disease.
Plant more trees
As it looks green
To keep the cities beautiful and clean.
And throw the garbage into a dustbin.
Stop cutting trees
And plant more trees
For a long live of you and me!
poem by Srijita Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Farming with live animals is a 7 day a week, legal form of slavery.
quote by George Segal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The farmers in Kansas are sorely in need of a credit system meeting their special requirements, that they may more readily obtain money on short or long time for their farming operations, or that they may become owners of farms.
quote by Arthur Capper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Boomer Ruined Our Hunting Trips
For years we have gone hunting.
I've loved sitting next to him in his deer blind
or sitting quietly in my own.
Now that Boomer came into our lives
I see all living animals as having feelings
and I can't stand the thought of hunting.
Boomer is our bassett hound.
He thinks he is human.
I sometimes think so too.
The way he has shown me
that he feels things like we do
has changed me forever.
Now, all I can think of is that
if a dog can feel emotions like we do...
can a deer?
Are they afraid?
Do they know why we are sitting there?
Do they hate me?
I have to explain this to my husband
and pray he understands why
our hunting days together are over.
Did His hand plant every scrub, flower, plant and tree
and did He let the wild animals here roam free?
Everywhere, on every meadow and on all hills
there are industries, huge satanic mills.
What has become of humanity?
quote by by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When tillage begins, other arts follow. The farmers, therefore, are the founders of human civilization.
quote by Daniel Webster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wonder Where My Lions Are?
I wonder where my lions are?
I wonder where my lions are?
I wonder where my lions are?
They are safe running in heaven in that beautiful park that God own in Heaven together with the other animals
Also in heaven they are protected by God
Because God doesn't allow any hunters in heaven
Like here on the earth
But there is no animal cruelty in heaven
But the place that have animal cruelty is on the earth
The people that lives in heaven are more educated than on the earth
The people in heaven respect the animals in heaven
The people on earth don't respect the animals on the earth
The people in heaven have a lot of love for the animals
The people on the earth don't seem to have any love for the animals
Even when I sleep I dream of heaven and I see the lions and other Animals
Living free in the park
And I must say that the park in heaven that God made is beautiful
But at the same time I thank God for giving the animals a beautiful Home
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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