It is the timber of poetry that wears most surely, and there is no timber that has not strong roots among the clay and worms.
quote by John Millington Synge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Timber
When I first saw you standing there , you set my heart a-reeling
Baby , you gave me such a feeling
My heart cries timber , timber , timber , timber
Timber baby cause Im a a-fallin for you
Yeah , yeah , yeah
Well, it happens evry time I look in your eyes
Baby , its paradise
My heart cries timber , timber , timber , timber
Timber baby cause Im a-fallin for you
Yeah , yeah , yeah
Well , I wish that you were mine to be forever and ever
Without you darling I just cant sleep
Im only happy when were together
I guess its time that I told you so
Ill always want to hold you
Baby , have I ever told you
My heart cries timber , timber , timber , timber
Timber baby cause Im a-fallin for you
Yeah , yeah , yeah
I wish that you were mine to be forever and ever
Without you darling I just cant sleep
Im only happy when were together
I guess its time that I told you so
Ill always want to hold you
Baby , have I ever told you
My heart cries timber , timber , timber , timber
Timber baby cause Im a-fallin for you
Whoa , whoa , whoa
Timber baby cause Im a-fallin for you
Whoa, whoa, whoa
Timber baby cause Im a-fallin for you (fade)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Timber Ho!
Im gonna pull this timber 'fore the sun go down
Get it 'cross the river 'fore the bars come down
Drag it on down that dusty road
Come on jerry, lets dump this load
I said timber, ho!, timber, woah this timbers gotta roll
I said timber, ho!, timber, woah this timbers gotta roll
My old jerry was an arkansas mule
Been everywhere and he aint no fool
Weighed nine hundred and twenty-two
Done everything a poor mule can do
(chorus)
Jerrys shoulders stood six foot tall
Pulled more timber than a freight could haul
Workin heavy old jerry got sore
Pulled so much he couldnt pull no more
(chorus)
The boss said jerry and it made him jump
Jerry ran and kicked the boss on the rump
My old jerry was a cool mule
Had it been me I woulda killed that fool
Boss tried to shoot old jerry in the head
Jerry took that bullet and he stomped him dead
Stomped that boss til he heard him scream
Sure dont care he was so damn mean
(chorus 2x)
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.
quote by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stringy-Bark Tree
There's the whitebox and pine on the ridges afar,
Where the iron-bark, blue-gum, and peppermint are;
There is many another, but dearest to me,
And the king of them all was the stringy-bark tree.
Then of stringy-bark slabs were the walls of the hut,
And from stringy-bark saplings the rafters were cut;
And the roof that long sheltered my brothers and me
Was of broad sheets of bark from the stringy-bark tree.
And when sawn-timber homes were built out in the West,
Then for walls and for ceilings its wood was the best;
And for shingles and palings to last while men be,
There was nothing on earth like the stringy-bark tree.
Far up the long gullies the timber-trucks went,
Over tracks that seemed hopeless, by bark hut and tent;
And the gaunt timber-finder, who rode at his ease,
Led them on to a gully of stringy-bark trees.
Now still from the ridges, by ways that are dark,
Come the shingles and palings they call stringy-bark;
Though you ride through long gullies a twelve months you’ll see
But the old whitened stumps of the stringy-bark tree.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Forest Dies
Above the voices
of axe and saw.
Echoing loud and clear
through forest and glade.
'TIMBER! TIMBER! '
Call of the lumberjack.
To some the music of profit.
Others death's mournful wail.
An instant of silence.
Executed a tree topples.
A cracking twisting moan
rustle and swish of leaves.
The earth trembles.
Another noble resident
taken by man.
Taken without remorse.
Selfishly to satisfy his needs.
BEWARE take heed!
Man must not ignore the fact.
These regal giants he takes away
with young must be replaced.
To grow in hope to take another day.
How many of nature's domain
for sacrifice bear mark?
Will there one day come?
Forests are no more?
poem by Kurt Hearth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bilgeways Hold
(Bilgeways Hold)
Bilgeways hold. Boat 's atop the blocks
timber 's under the keel, the chain-bolts,
bumkins are hawling down the fore-tack
the timber daggers and the gun-deck oak.
Hours walk, I bonk the timber false heel,
incinerate tar to blusher upon main keel,
chocks of upper deck fay across the apron,
hammer the nails, arrest 'em 'n scout peg.
Sweat dribbles, hammer drops on dagger
drops trickle down the floor and swagger
my muscled arms rustle, bitter to befit
abridge the shafts scout and fix the bitts.
Brawn arms on sluggish job, head together
two strakes hooked, gunwales to foregather
as sinews work on manly effort and hoist
arise and heave to join, my forehead moist
A man must know, as hammer drops, to usher
with calm patience of no disuse of a rusher,
a man must know how desuetude to crosscut
in a ship-yard his thrust to cond and rebut
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tree Out My Window
Taller taller
than last year
Greener greener
than last shower
there is a tree out my window
stouter stouter
than previous year
stronger stronger
no wind can steer
the tree is standing out my window
birds, crawlers
vines and creepers
children, farmers
artists and passers
sharing prosperity with this tree out my window
calm, silent
when spring is pleasant
violent, firm
when it's autumn
the tree out my window
varying moods and tone
with season
varying acts and chores
with changing sun
the tree shows out my window
true friend
true bond
mystic impression
full of motivation
the tree out my window
older older
still looking tender
timber timber
for good timber
they cut the tree out my window
vines, creepers
birds, crawlers
artists, passers
children, farmers
forgot the tree out my window
poem by Tarun Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Off the Track
Oh where the deuce is the track, the track?
Round an' round, an' forrard, an' back!
“Keep the sun on yer right,” they said—
But, hang it, he's gone an' got over my head!
“Make for a belt of apple trees;”—
Jist so. But where's yer belt, if ye please?
By gum, it's hot! This child'll melt,
An' there ain't no apples, nor ain't no belt.
“Keep clear o' the timber-getters' tracks,”
But wich is wich, I'd beg to ax?
They forks and jines, the devil knows how—
I wish I'd a sight o' either now!
“Leave the track,” sez they, “when you sees
Some yards to the right two big grass trees.”
Two! It's dozens on dozens I pass—
Most on 'em big, an' all on 'em grass.
Oh where the deuce is the track, the track?
I'm fairly taken aback, aback.
“Keep tow'rd the river. You can't go wrong.”
Whew? Can't I, though! That was rayther strong.
“Follow the lay o' the land,” sez they;
But, Lord, this flat ain't got no lay!
Whew! Ain't it hot on the pint o' the nose?
An' the more I mops the hotter I grows.
“An' when you comes to the foot o' the range”—
WHEN! That's the pint. But ain't it strange,
That the further I goes, to left or right,
The more there ain't no range in sight.
Gum trees, gum trees, slim an' high,
Timber green an' timber dry.
Blackened stumps an' fallen logs—
Lively work as on we jogs!
Oh the devil an' all take the flat, the flat!
I'm one myself for the matter o' that.
I'm mazed, an' so is the brute I rides,
An' the sun's getting over the left besides.
Dash it, I'll follow my nose, my nose!
Step out, straight forrard, here goes, here goes!
Let the sun be left, or the sun be right,
Summat or other must come in sight.
* * * * *
Well, well! If this ain't too bad by half!
Lor', how the beggars 'll laugh an' chaff!
Back to my startin' point? Yes; tis so.
I put up them slip-rails six hours ago.
poem by James Brunton Stephens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An uncreative medicine
no hope
no friend
no family
no home
no nativity
no nationality
no fame
no name
no future
no points
no market
no identity
no possessions still a tree without roots
no relationship still a tree without roots
no anarchism still a tree without roots
no hiearchy still a tree without roots
no country still a tree without roots
no colours still a tree without roots
no degrees still a tree without roots
no certificates
no imaginations
no dream
no poetry
no fiction
no story
no news
no media
no happiness still a tree without roots
no genre still a tree without roots
no labels still a tree without roots
no names still a tree without roots
THE FOURTH EYE
of
A post-conceptual poet.
Poetry of the earth
Poetry calls me out of darkness,
Poetry lights my candle!
When the king wears a crown,
When the beggar wears a frown,
I'll take you to town!
Poetry of the earth is never dead,
Poetry of the earth - never shall it end:
When the blackbirds sing,
When a boxer enters the ring,
When a bee gives you a sting,
Joy and comfort to your soul I'll bring!
poem by Comfort Ndlovu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is a cart if it goes well, otherwise it is but timber.
It is a cart if it travels well, else it is but timber.
Passion Is A Hurricane
Ending of the thought
does not bring a lull.
It is a sequel beyond
my reach. An old extrication,
I dig for my roots.
The forgotten names,
the unhealing wounds of a doctrine,
a tiny memory of pulsating embryo,
not yet born!
Fear generates a kill. Ferocious movement
inside the cells slowly,
you become zero without a center.
The tangent skips
on your surface. Claustrophobia.
You start breaking the walls.
Fighting anxiety & shame
a timeless timber without a foliage.
My ignition point is hurt in
the new culture of game.
How we approach the road,
which smells the death,
blood or smoke?
The passion is a hurricane.
Uproots all the bones,
shatters all the roots.
A glory reckons after a while,
for the election of sorrow.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out of timber so crooked as that from which man is made nothing entirely straight can be carved.
quote by Immanuel Kant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From timber so crooked as that from which man is carved, nothing entirely straight can be made.
quote by Immanuel Kant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I firmly believe that we can have a healthy environment and a sustainable timber industry.
quote by Frank Murkowski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knowledge and timber shouldn't be much used till they are seasoned.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When One Door Closes Another Opens
She sold her house in outer suburbia where she had lived for many years
And she know that in months from now she will recall through the tears
The happy times she spent there when her children were young
There they laughed and played together and their nursery rhymes they sung.
The old home to be demolished never to be seen again
And of a thing of beauty only memories will remain
To make room for a car park something ugly in it's place
And the landscape will look uglier without one familiar face.
To get rid of her huge mortgage the one reason why she sold
And the house in need of repairs as most timber houses do when old
So she felt obliged to sell and to buy a cheaper house elsewhere
But she will recall her old home and the good times she had there.
When one door closes another opens this so happens to be true
And she will settle in her new home and find happiness there too
Still the old timber house on Bayview Road in her memory will remain
And in her dreams she will be visiting her erstwhile friends again.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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