
Each has his own tree of ancestors, but at the top of all sits Probably Arboreal.
quote by Robert Louis Stevenson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leaves Turning Grey
Like a carcass lays, an ancient tree,
he tried to pray, through celestial seas,
but his spirit flew just like a bee.
Everyday he gazed at crying clouds,
the wind through his branches was so loud.
He looked for listening ears
as he stood in a sea of tears.
O tree, do you still wade?
Why have you lost your will to change?
O tree, leaves turning grey,
your roots have lost their range.
But how can one ask for help,
when you're not helping yourself?
And so this tree founded on sand,
with the wind tumbled to land.
He's an arboreal fool,
in a world that pulls
his heart and blood apart.
O tree, you've lost your blood,
your dead branches lay in the mud.
O tree, leaves turning grey,
your roots in such ground won't stay.
poem by Soren Valentine

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In Karma The Price We Must Pay
Birds and arboreal animals need every bush and tree
When their homes are destroyed by humans they must fight for a new territory
And if in securing new homes they are unsuccessful they become homeless and slowly die
I speak a fact of Nature and Nature does not lie.
The wildlife where trees are removed must search for homes elsewhere
Others they must try for to dispossess one reason wild creatures are becoming rare
Is that their habitat is being destroyed due to human financial greed
That the root cause of species extinction leads to human kind is so sad to say indeed.
Humans wage war on their own kind and war on Nature as well
How this will affect future generations of humans only time alone will tell
That what we do to Nature to our own selves we do is true
Since from her we will receive the Karma the Karma we are due.
Birds and arboreal animals need trees to live on and when their trees are cut away
They will have to fight for homes elsewhere since where they are they cannot stay
What goes around always comes around as some do like to say
And for our abuse of Nature in Karma the price we must pay.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Stunted
An untreelike tree,
witches caught turning their safe-cracker hands.
Cripped by disregard, not an arboreal miracle,
a faded portrait parsimonious with leaves.
Ready to recant its hope of Summer,
a quiet surrender down to witless roots.
poem by Leslie Philibert

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Like a Tree That Sits
Like a tree that sits...
To be observed and taken for granted.
I am here.
Not to intellectualize my emotions.
But to feel them as experienced.
Not to convince!
But to know that they exist.
Whether you see them exposed bared.
Or not!
Or whether I keep them within.
They do not stop.
I live to feel every one of them!
And changing my outer appearance...
Does not excuse the fact,
They are intact.
To be shown.
Beneath an exterior...
One soul only at a time condones.
And inside me this is known.
Like a tree that sits,
Rooted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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My Tasks Are Deeper Than That
It is not from a core,
Heated with an ego...
I wish adored.
My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.
It is not for adulation,
I crave to taste.
Or applause to acknowledge,
I have talents gifted...
From an unseen higher place.
My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.
It's a fact I respect my ancestors tracks.
I feel their spirits around and in me.
As if from one tree...
I am a limb with them attached.
I am here to succeed.
Not to accept defeat.
Or feed frustrations,
That stagnate my reach.
My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.
Impatient with waste.
And with those who procrastinate.
No excuses do I make...
With those who fake life.
And seek ways to escape.
I am here to succeed.
Not to accept defeat.
Or feed frustrations,
That stagnate my reach.
And no emotional limitations,
Will interfere with my deeds...
In a preventive escalation.
That within me,
Gets no empathy.
I'm not here to sob and weep,
To have insecurities of others...
Stop this stride in a movement I keep.
I am here to succeed.
Not to accept defeat.
Or feed frustrations,
That stagnate my reach.
And it is not from a core,
Heated with an ego...
I wish adored.
My tasks are deeper than that.
My approach to life,
Keeps my ancestors intact.
It is a fact I respect my ancestors tracks.
I feel their spirits around and in me.
As if from one tree...
I am a limb with them attached.
And these deeds from me I promise to deliver!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Under The Ivy Bush
Under the ivy bush
One sits sighing,
And under the willow tree
One sits crying: -
Under the ivy bush
Cease from your sighing,
But under the willow-tree
Lie down a-dying.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Tis Me!
The tree on the left is made of bicycles.
The one next to it is red!
The one in the center is yellow
And the blue tree sits on the right end.
Unless you are standing behind them.
Then the blue tree is on the left.
Next comes the yellow then red tree,
And the bicycle tree comes next!
But if you watch from a merry go round
While it’s spinning in circles you’ll see,
Just a dizzying blur of colors,
Which one now is first, mercy me?
Who has such time that it does take
To sit and write the nonsense we read?
I bet whoever it is he’s retired,
And he looks an awful lot just like me!
poem by Robert Edgar Burns

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Our Tree
When spring comes round, our apple tree
Is very full of flowers,
And when a bird sits on a branch
The petals fall in showers.
When summer comes, our apple tree
Is very full of green,
And everywhere you look in it
There is a leafy screen.
When autumn comes, our apple tree
Is full of things to eat.
The apples hang from every branch
To tumble at our feet.
When winter comes, our apple tree
Is full of snow and ice
And rabbits come to visit it...
We think our tree is nice.
poem by Marchette Chute

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To forget one's ancestors is to be a brook without a source, a tree without a root.
Some people are your relatives but others are your ancestors, and you choose the ones you want to have as ancestors. You create yourself out of those values.
quote by Ralph Ellison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Men can know more than their ancestors did if they start with a knowledge of what their ancestors had already learned....That is why a society can be progressive only if it conserves its traditions.
quote by Walter Lippmann

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Not Finished
A perfect night
the stars are sparkling bright
staring into the sky,
the little house in the creek
sits nestled under the tall mossy tree
the house aged by nature...beautiful
as the rain starts to pour
the tall mossy tree protects the house and its front door
the mossy tree bears the weight of the sky
as the house is kept dry
more clouds swarm in recklessly
lightning cracks as it sets fire to the tall mossy tree
the tree stands strong....
but i doesn't know if it can last long
as the rain runs down the tree's trunk and roots
like tears
poem by Wandering Scarlet

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Today You Guys Are Just Going To Have To Wait
At times I feel,
I provoke the ghosts...
Of my ancestors.
Especially when I know,
I am not at my best!
And rest I'd rather get.
Than to impress with those gifts,
From which I did get,
As a result of my ancestors blood and sweat.
Never did I wish,
To sit...
In the taking for granted,
Of those I represent and miss.
But I do admit,
A feeling I provoke...
The wishes of my ancestors.
Those ghosts within me that make visits.
Awaiting impatiently to do...
Not what I want.
But what they insist!
'Today you guys are just going to have to wait,
And sit.
I am tired.
I need rest.
And rest I am going to get! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Tree's Devil
The tree, how it sits
so still in the ground.
It is its homeplace,
forever it stays there,
unless it is rudely uprooted.
It's branches slowly sway
to and from with the soft breeze.
Soon, night will come
and with it it will bring
the devils wind.
It will howl and whine
threw the tree's limbs,
and the tree will anger
and slash its branches out,
trying to stop the dreadful wind.
poem by Alison Miotke

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The Tallest Tree in the Forest
Cedar forest rings my humble abode
Giants swaying in an angry wind
Rain clouds loose their watery load
Their nature is to be undisciplined
How am I to know my verdant friends
Standing here below on forest floor
While most of what is seen ascends
But for a better view I shall explore
My search begins to find the tallest tree
The one most eager to kiss a rising Sun
The climb nearly takes the best of me
Reaching highest bow I sit in adoration
From high above an endless sea of olivine
Until now…an arboreal family gone unseen
poem by Ray Lucero

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Man is descended from a hairy, tailed quadruped, probably arboreal in its habits.
quote by Charles Robert Darwin

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'll build you a house!
You lady so bewitching, is your charm,
You lady, disarmed is me, your arrow, my heart is struck
As weaver birds do their houses, on tree tops
As ants make, colonies, for their queens,
As my ancestors, spear in blood they had dipped,
That, their grand sons, would build houses, for their loved ones
So, I'll build you a house, my queen,
Where my ancestors had pointed, with their walking sticks
A place with tall grass where marks were made with sticks
We'll watch the sunsets, and bless the rising moon.
I'll build you a house, my queen!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola

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Haunted By My Own
Haunted by my own.
Haunted by a bloodline...
My ancestors have sewn.
And I confess...
My obsession to do my best!
This wont leave me alone.
I feel I am here,
To make their voices known.
I can not neglect a moment of respect.
To be perceived as a disrespect.
I must protect and protest indignities!
Haunted by my own.
Haunted by a bloodline...
My ancestors have sewn.
And I confess...
The challenge to please them,
Leaves me restless to achieve.
To heights of a success...
That will have all believe I have succeeded.
And my ancestors can attest,
I have done them well!
Although my haunting will continue,
Since they and I are not quite through...
To convince with proof what I am here to do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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I have often noticed that ancestors never boast of the descendants who boast of ancestors. I would rather start a family than finish one. Blood will tell, but often it tells too much.
quote by Don Marquis

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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