The idea is that there is a kind of memory in nature. Each kind of thing has a collective memory. So, take a squirrel living in New York now. That squirrel is being influenced by all past squirrels.
quote by Rupert Sheldrake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Squirrel Said
The Squirrel said.
'Attention all! '
He stands tall.
On a wooden fence,
in suspense.
Their Squirrel Head,
Their squirrel said,
'My nuts are gone,
My nuts are gone! '
Did you check under your bed?
Another squirrel joking said,
'Of course I did! ' the squirrel said,
'I am the Squirrel head'.
Maybe you forgot you've ate,
Autumn now, it's not too late,
Just look for more, Squirrel Head,
An elderly wise squirrel said.
Squirrel Died Today
A squirrel died today on the street,
I tried to save him but he was already beat.
Beaten down to the ground by a car,
going fast and going far,
hitting the squirrel who was squashed on the tar,
squirrel could barely walk for he had a scar.
Please slow down,
Speeding cars kill,
killing innocent animals that
live on the hill.
Stop for birds, ducks and squirrels too,
what if that was your kid-
Wouldn’t you feel blue?
Slow, slow down for there is animals
living all around,
they want to make it to their homes.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Little Acorns
Take all your problems
And rip em apart
Carry them off
In a shopping cart
And another thing
You shouldve known from the start
The problems in hand
Are lighter than at heart
Be like the squirrel, girl
Be like the squirrel
Give it a whirl, girl
Be like the squirrel
And another thing
You have to know in this world
Cut up your hair
Straighten your curls
Well, your problems
Hide in your curls
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Squirrel Song
squirrels are singing
my heart is beating
hapiness it's all around
mother squirrel is chilling
i'm hunting and killing
a peanut if i had tonight
i'm playing and singing
i'm jumping from tree to tree
no one can change me
cause that`s what i wanna be
just a squirrel
[...]
standing in the tree
poem by NoT American
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Memory (Thy Shall)
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
So delicate it may break.
A memory so lost,
So unwanted it tears apart,
Until it dies,
It shall go back to thy start.
A powerful memory it may be,
Or a memory that shall be overlooked,
Thy one shall let it see,
How thy memory is like a book.
But how powerful thy memory is,
It has to be stronger than a good memory,
A memory that has passion and feeling,
A memory that has greatness and becoming myself, I, and me.
Until that kind of memory is shown,
Thy memory shall be looked upon near and far,
Thy memory shall be kept hidden,
Until it shall be who we are.
Thy shall not slumber,
Thy shall not wake,
A memory so fragile,
so delicate it may break.
poem by Alicia Meyers
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The Coventry Squirrels
Near Coventry Cathedral, upon the green,
A group of grey squirrels can often be seen.
Squirrel food can be bought from the gift shop,
Where many of the City’s tourists do often stop.
The squirrels there are amazingly tame,
And seem to enjoy their relative fame.
Up and down the tall trees, they race;
Dashing around at an incredible pace.
When they spot a tourist walk along the path,
To them, it could mean food – they’re not daft!
Up in the trees or on the ground, they keep an eye,
On all of the people who are passing by.
When someone stops and looks their way.
They run on over to them, totally unafraid.
For food, they are always on the scrounge,
And luckily, for them, there’s plenty around.
I feel slightly unnerved if they come too near.
Inside, I begin to feel a slight sense of fear.
I saw on You Tube, a surprising video online,
Where, up someone’s leg, a squirrel did climb!
Watching the squirrels, I really do adore,
And always want to stay a few minutes more.
Watching them all, really does make my day,
And I find it incredibly hard to tear myself away.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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An enviromental Poem
In your garden, in your house
Tip-toe quietly like a mouse.
You never know what you might find
A squirrel, a dog, or an animal of a different kind!
Out in the bushes, behind the trees
Get down quietly on your knees.
You might see an ant going back to its nest,
Or maybe a robin with its bright red breast.
In the greenhouse where lots of things grow
There are more than just plants in there, you know!
If you look closely you will see lots of things,
Maybe a ladybird with its transparent wings!
In your garden, in your house
Tip-toe quietly like a mouse.
You never know what you might find
A squirrel, a dog, or an animal of a different kind!
poem by Bethan Linscott
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New To The Neighborhood
I know you are new to the neighborhood.
And with that said...
I would caution you not to make any attempts,
To treat the other squirrels you see around here...
With respect or hints of it.
Since...
If you permit yourself to do that...
You just might find your nuts cracked.
'That's fine with me.
Isn't that the purpose?
I would consider that a neighborly act of unity.
And if I may admit this...
Sometimes it would be nice to sit and relax.
Knowing that another squirrel would do that for me.
And I didn't have to scratch any squirrel's back,
To keep my own nuts protected.'
Yeah...
You're new.
You've taken my comments...
Too far out on branches dislocated from the trees.
You must be a rehabilitated nut crusher?
Have you just been released,
From those Scotch Pines behind the Maples?
'No!
I'm a realist.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Peep on You
I peep on you
When you say
You don’t love me
I saw your rose pulps
I peep on you
I saw you rested your love
On the bowl
I peep on you
I saw your barbaric tits waving
Water dripping from there
Right to your squirrel
I peep on you
I saw your squirrel
Wet but breathing
Seems like in hunger
For partner
I peep on you
When you say
You don’t love me
I saw your beautiful face
As horny
As your squirrel
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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You can't be friends with a squirrel! A squirrel is just a rat with a cuter outfit.
quote by Sarah Jessica Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Difficult to forget
It is difficult to forget near ones
They won’t be missed by some one
But by persons of close vicinity
And all members of the family
We may go on missing them forever
One day they may fade away however
They may still come and invade the memory
You may think and add to tension and worry
Any new place of similar nature may force you to think
You will slip into deep memory and try to sink
It will give you momentary relief and some kind of joy
Even though it is sad to miss any one and enjoy
We are sentimental and everything has some attachment
We may try to get near it and make happy comments
When that thing becomes thing of past
Some memory may not be forgotten and long last
More you cry and miss
He will get shock and a pulse
Where ever he is, he will have pain
As he will be in heavenly abode to remain
Insted do a thing which was so dear
He always tried for to be near
He will be with you for the years
And remind you he is with you and in your tears
These are unforgettable painful moments
There are no words left for comments
Yet we go on remembering them as and when feel free
We may have all comforts as if sitting under the shed of tree
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Making Love With Memories
You poked my blurring eye,
Let me lift your mushy breast.
We aged onwards
While you stroked flaccidity –
Recalling decades of
Blood-gorged coming, shuddering to boot.
I kissed a venerable mouth
Crammed with falsities –
Once brilliant keys
Guarded by crimson lips
Washed by a sensual tongue.
And so we writhed in wrinkles,
Tiring effort, and
Memories.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
Memory memory memory memory memory
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Wild thought
Twin squirrels leapfrog
on the gleditsia branch.
Do frogs play squirrel?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Travelling down memory lane
Traveling down memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Traveling down memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Traveling down memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Traveling down memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Traveling down memory lane
is love & pain, fun with friends.
Traveling down memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Traveling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Traveling down memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
poem by Ralph Acosta
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Lucy The Jack Russel
Talking to Sharon about Lucy at the condo the other night,
I discovered her dog is a breed with very good eyesight.
She is a hunter and can sense what’s there,
Lucy always stops to smell the air.
Lucy is always ready to run,
Sharon holds her back she would take off for fun.
Lucy has spots gold on her back all in a row,
even on her belly gold spots do show.
Lucy is a Jack Russel and another breed as well,
Sharon thinks possibly Beagle, but it’s hard to tell.
Sharon knows one thing for sure,
she loves to chase after squirrels.
Lucy can catch the squirrel by the tail,
she’s really fast, you won’t hear the squirrel yell.
Lucy is precious to Sharon for she is like her child,
Lucy makes Sharon happy with a smile.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on January 11,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Hungry Squirrel
It is the winter of 2001;
’Tis raining cats and dogs;
A hungry squirrel madly runs,
In frantic search of food!
It can’t control its hunger pangs;
The weather’s damp and cold;
There is no sign of any food;
How can it remain warm?
The guava-fruits have disappeared;
Papayas are unripe;
The Pea-fowls guard the Palmyras;
There are no wild berries.
The squirrel squeaks quite endlessly;
Its warmth is running out;
Perhaps, it thinks of grandpa-days,
Of juicy fruits and nuts.
But soon, the squeaks have feeble gone;
Did the rodent find some food?
Nature often cruel turns,
Leaving the beasts unfed.
The Squirrel hasn’t turned up, of late;
Is it then dead or gone?
Starved to death by Nature dear?
Or perhaps still alive!
While men can go and purchase food,
What can these poor beasts do?
Yet, Mother Nature cares for them,
Much better than me, you!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-16-2001
poem by John Celes
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SONG On: Animal Love
There lived a girl called Lovina,
Whose animal-love was great;
Tall, she was and so much lean, ah!
She sang songs for a treat.
She had a sister, with whom she fought,
Right from her child-hood days!
Both were aged, a year’s diff’rence;
And so they fight-her mother says.
She did her home-work, in a short time,
Dreamt while her mother cooks!
In argument, she was so good,
And loved to read animal-books.
Once there fell down, a small Squirrel,
As she stood ‘neath a Mango-tree;
She laid it gently in a box,
The Squirrel-babe was no more free!
She fed the Squirrel, fruit and nut,
And lullabied it to a sleep;
The baby Squirrel loved her much,
Their friendship grew so deep.
She sang to it and fondled it,
And talked to it whenever free;
She kept it cosy, neat and clean;
Her holidays, went off in glee!
One day, the Squirrel fell so ill;
Perhaps, it thought of its mother!
So, you must set the Squirrel free;
Her doctor-uncle advised her.
With Squirrel ill, her heart turned sad,
Poor Lovina, could not sleep well;
For long, she kept awake and cried;
Was the Squirrel ill ‘cause it fell?
The poor girl prayed, all night and day;
She prayed to God to make it well;
And wished, she could become a fay!
Her life now seemed to look like hell!
She kissed her Squirrel, one more time;
Her Uncle let it up a tree;
The Squirrel squeaked and wagged its tail;
And jumped with joy, away, afree!
Lovina too now wept with joy;
Her pet-Squirrel seemed quite alright!
Her heart leapt like the Squirrel, Boy!
Her Uncle’s words were quite correct.
But Lovina missed her Squirrel;
She visited the Mango-tree;
She hopes to meet her pet some day,
Her friend, never turned up to see!
Ye love your God through animals!
Ye love thy sister first, then else;
Man hath a soul, animals don’t,
“Love thy neighbour, ”the Poet tells!
specially dedicated to my neice Rubina, an animal-lover herself, a true incident in her life!
poem by John Celes
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Squirrel (Acrostic)
Squirrel, shy by nature,
Quickness in its gesture,
Undulating with speed,
Influenced by greed,
Raking to make nest,
Rushing for maple harvest,
Eating acorn and nuts dispersed,
Long furry tail remains curled.
poem by Jyoti Sunit Chaudhary
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Stash
A squirrel's stash, His mouth is puffed.
Hard Acorns and Pine tree Nuts,
A squirrel rummages for his cut,
He sure can stash, He sure is stuffed!
I had to make squirrel noises as Bubbles and without realizing it, I was making the face and putting my fingers up to my face to look like a squirrel and everyone made fun of me for the rest of the day.
quote by Tara Strong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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