Novelists do not write as birds sing, by the push of nature. It is part of the job that there should be much routine and some daily stuff on the level of carpentry.
quote by William Golding
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
A petty reason perhaps why novelists more and more try to keep a distance from journalists is that novelists are trying to write the truth and journalists are trying to write fiction.
quote by Graham Greene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Push Push
Come take a ride
Or a slipnside
To sit astridengliden.
....Push!Push!
Please pull the strings
Bees use their stings
Birds spread their wing and
Some things...Push! Push!
A puss that pures
By settinspures
Is this his or her what stirs?
Now: Push! Push!
Unlock the sloice
Bring up the juce
Just let it loose..Producen
Push! Push!
Refrain
Push! Push! Push!Just a little
Push! Push! Push!A little further
Push! Push! Push!Just a little bit
Push! Push! Push!A little bit mooooore!
Ooh what a blow
Yeah, what a show!
Hey, one more throw...
Lets go now! Push! Push!
Another shot
We hit teh spot
Oh that was hot.. a lot
Now: Push! Push!
Refrain
From stick or stone
To the prick an d bone
Im lyinprone, Im nnnot alone
Push!Push!
With a whip and chain
Theres plesuren pain
And no venture, no gain....again
Now Push!! Push!
Refrain
Our fathers who are from heaven
When kings have come thy will be
done Forgive this day - our dailybread Give ahead!!!
Refrain
song performed by by Falco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nature
Iam a part of nature, and nature is a part of me.
We live together, on this earth in sweet harmony.
Iam a living specimen, just not botany.
Iam a part of nature.
I stand erect as an old oak tree.
I've weathering various storms and showers, some visable to see.
I can sing like bird, and remain on key.
Yet, my life can be as busy as a bee,
collaborating effortlessly, with natures precious melodies.
That is why, Iam a part of nature and nature, is a part of me.
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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A World Without Birds
In years from now will the children of the future on warm evenings in the prime of Spring
On trees and bushes in groves, woods and parklands when flowers are blooming hear the wild birds sing
For a World without birds would be sad to live in and sad to learn that they are becoming rare
These are sad times for people who love Nature and who for Nature's creatures genuinely do care,
A World without birds to think of even painful something that one would not rather contemplate
For birds seem an integral part of Nature the poets and painters them do celebrate
They have been in the World for perhaps longer than humans they have evolved from the dinosaur age
Humans even use them for their entertainment they keep them in an aviary or a cage
But birds should never be held in captivity as Nature's creatures meant to live naturally
They are not meant to be captives of humans in Nature's World they should live wild and free
For bird lovers it must be disappointing to know their numbers are on the decline
So nice to hear them singing in the gardens when flowers are blooming in the Spring sunshine
The demise of birds the thought even unpleasant a sadder World without them it would be
They are so much an integral part of Nature at least that is how it does seem to me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Luv Your Stuff
(myles goodwyn)
Published by mfg sing sing music/socan - ascap
Everytime I get restless, I see my hand knockin on your door
And everytime Im in a fix baby, I start actin like I need you more
Well Ive been lookin for someone to talk to
And Ive been searchin for a better way
And Ive been runnin all over town, girl
Ive been lookin each and every way, yeah
But you got somethin special
And Im bein on the level with you
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), mmm, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), at five oclock in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), still cant get enough
(great stuff, luv your stuff)
Livin like a fool in flames
You know that I been usin you, girl
And Im the one to blame
But babe, I got my cupboards all stocked and ready
What you get girl, is what you see
And youve been lookin inside my head now
And you got your arms wrapped around me, mmm
I got no thing for our candy
Its your lovin girl, that gets me down
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), send the bill in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), get busy
I got no sense of reason, I know I gotta make a deal
Its all comin down to somethin baby, its tellin me I got to get real, huh
I got my senses in a tuft, Im all mixed up, my temperatures starting to rise
And I cant seem to stay away from you, girl, I think its more than we realized, yeah
Wont you look what its doin
Its your lovin girl, that gets me down
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), Ill pay the price in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff)
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Argument Of His Book
THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.
I write of youth, of love, and have access
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness.
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece
Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris.
I sing of Time's trans-shifting; and I write
How roses first came red, and lilies white.
I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing
The court of Mab, and of the fairy king.
I write of Hell; I sing (and ever shall)
Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Shudder/king Of Snake
Kkking of snake
King of snake
Kkking of snake
Kkking of snake
Kkking of snake
Kkking of snake
Snake
Snake
Snake
Snake
24 hours with the king of snake
Kkking of snake
Dogman and the king of snake
Im on a boast and the king of snake
Dogman and the king of snake
King of snake race
Im on a boast and the king of snake
Dogman and the king of snake
Im on a boast and the king of snake
24 hours with the king of snake
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink
And you go ping
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink drink
And you go ping
Heat that stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right [x4]
That stuff enough
Snake
Drink that stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right
That stuff enougha
Right [x4]
That stuff enough
Right
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink
And you go ping
Daily daily daily daily to dream like
Tom and jerry thing
And drink drink drink
And you go ping
Heat that stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right [x4]
That stuff enough
Right [x4]
Snake
That stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right
That stuff enough
Right [x4]
That stuff enough
Snake
Up on the mountain
Midnight faces
Everybody got some
Big emotion
Up on the mountain
Big emotion
Same ambition
Kkking of snake snake
Kkking
Snake [x4]
24 hours with the king of snake
King of snake king of snake
24 hours with the king of snake
( snake )
( snake )
( snake )
( snake fighting its very scary )
( fighting snake )
( really dangerous )
( so its really popular )
( at midnight everybody dancing on the street here )
( everyone with same identity )
( down their saki )
( sakis really strong )
( like vodka )
( really dangerous so )
( everyone get a roll up of new newspaper )
( set it on fire )
( and put it in between )
( snake fighting )
( life )
( strong food and strong drink at midnight )
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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September In Her Finest
The sun is brightly shining the frogs sing in pond and drain
These shy and tiny amphibians their songs tell us of rain
And Spring is all around me the beauty of the Spring
The wattles in their yellow flowers the birds whistle and sing.
September in her finest she wears her cloak of green
And everywhere one turns to look there's beauty to be seen
A poet in such a Landscape would truly feel inspired
Of talking of Nature's beauty one never could grow tired.
Some pray for an Utopia beyond this Earthly shore
In a world of eternal youth for to live forever more
But this the nearest place to Utopia that i will ever know
And how many more Seasons will i see come and go?
September in her finest it is a lovely day
The tiny wrens hop on the ground in search of insect prey
And birds are whistling on the trees in the afternon sunlight
So much to write of in Nature for those who love to write.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The universe is of the nature of a thought or sensation in a universal Mind … To put the conclusion crudely — the stuff of the world is mind-stuff. As is often the way with crude statements, I shall have to explain that by "mind" I do not exactly mean mind and by "stuff" I do not at all mean stuff. Still that is about as near as we can get to the idea in a simple phrase. The mind-stuff of the world is something more general than our individual conscious minds; but we may think of its nature as not altogether foreign to feelings in our consciousness … Having granted this, the mental activity of the part of world constituting ourselves occasions no great surprise; it is known to us by direct self-knowledge, and we do not explain it away as something other than we know it to be — or rather, it knows itself to be.
quote by Arthur Eddington
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rushing to Hug a Tree
I could If I wanted,
To be stuck in deep stuff.
With an analyzing done,
As if I was there to fix and correct...
What suited my comprehension,
And my intellect.
But as I grow older,
I've selected a more basicness in life.
Like taking a walk around the neighborhood.
And saying hello to folks I had once disliked.
I don't know why.
I try hard to earn a smile from others,
These days.
Of course they hesitate.
I would too.
There is nothing like being cautious.
I could If I wanted,
To be stuck in deep stuff.
Dressing the part of an aristocrat...
With my nose lifted high.
And my butt corked up!
But today I find myself,
Rushing to hug a tree.
Listening to the birds sing.
And seeking harmony.
Perhaps I have arrived to enjoy,
A certain 'maturity'.
That combines an appreciation,
I've discovered that heightens...
The level of my tolerance.
With a wish of it to be judgement free.
Or...
An acknowledgement my aches and pains,
Have become overnight...
A useless fight against priorities.
My feet and knees keep reminding me of this.
I've grown to value the ease of simple movement.
Oooo,
Geeesshh...
Who knew,
I would come to find this pleasurable.
'And yes,
I did go to high school with your grandparents!
Sooo...
What's the point you're making?
I carry this twig to show my appreciation for nature.
You do not see me attempting to use it as a cane!
You kids are so disrespectful.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird’s Song
Swim through oceans of air
Birds keep time up there
And spend their days winging
Through forests of clouds, singing
Hymns of nature’s style
Fluttering away all the while
Dancing with angels in the sky
Dancing, dancing as they fly
Through fields of blue
Just to sing their song for you.
Mountains of clouds all about
Saviors in times of drought
Gather up the tears you cry
Into your reservoir in the sky
And listen to the birds sing
Listen for the song in everything
From the forests to the sea
From the bird to the bee
Listen and the song is there
Nature sings everywhere.
The sun rejoices each new day
But it rises in the usual way
To wake up the world with beams of light
And to conquer the darkness of night
But still the birds sing their song
A tribute to the day that’s long
And travel through fields of blue
Just to sing their song for you
And then when all has gone away
They’ll sing for you some other day.
poem by Jamie Collins
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For To See One More Spring
How marvellous to live for to see one more Spring
To feel the sun's warmth and to hear the birds sing
The sweet scents of Nature of pollen and hay
That wafts in the breeze of a beautiful day.
In search of water surface insects young ducklings are out
With their mums in the Townpark lake quietly swimming about
And the pipe of the shrike thrush is so pleasant to hear
In Nature Spring is such a nice time of year.
Were I a poet of such beauty I would write
A poem others would happily read and recite
Of Spring in her glory when flowers are in bloom
And the gardens are scenting of Nature's perfume.
Into the last month of Spring and young birds learning how to fly
And butterflies dancing in the sunny sky
I hear the familiar voice of the pee wee
And wild birds are whistling on bush and on tree.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beauty Of Nature The Poets Inspire
Were I a poet I'd write of Nature's beauty around me
The songs of the birds on bush, hedge and tree
The flowers of the garden so lovely to see
The beauty of Nature to look at is free.
The babble of the waterways the brook, creek and rill
That flow to the river downland from the hill
That flows to the coast all the way to the sea
One of Nature's Goddess wonders none as great as she.
Of singing her praises could one ever tire
The beauty of Nature the poets inspire
To pen their poems to her of her praises they do sing
The beauty of Nature outlives her every Spring.
And though all of her life forms to life come and go
Goddess of Nature whose secrets anybody does not know
Will live on forever she will never die
Unlike all other mortals such as you and I.
poem by Francis Duggan
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You were able to sing something they related to instantly, because it was part of what you felt. It was part of what you had already traveled through. It's part of the people you were associating with daily. It was all of that.
quote by Ben E. King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Hearing A Magpie Sing
The magpie sings in the bright sunshine of a humid and a warm day
Perhaps he is telling us something that rain is not that far away
For birds do sing in changing weather on a very warm day when birdsong you hear
You know there's a change in the weather that thundery weather is near.
Birds and animals are more sensitive to Nature than we are since nearer to Nature they live
They pollinate plants in their feeding from Nature they take and to her other things give
They are more Nature friendly than we are and on her resources less of a drain
The huge increase in the human population on Mother Nature does place a huge strain.
So little I know about Nature and so much of her I'd love to know
I fell in love with her as a schoolboy now that seems a long time ago
A wise old lady once did tell me that when out of Season the birds sing
That they detect a change in the weather Nature is a marvellous thing.
The magpie he sings in the sunshine on a warm day of thirty degrees
In his song he is trying to tell me that he senses the rain in the breeze
He can detect changes in Nature of her ways he knows far more than I
In his song he tells me that rain is not distant though there's not a rain cloud in the sky.
poem by Francis Duggan
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(V – 2010) The Poet’s Nature
Reflecting Nature’s various hues
Poets write colourfully.
Echoing Nature’s innate songs
Poets write musically.
Learning from Nature’s righteous laws
Poets write more sensibly.
Drawing from Nature’s spotless love
Poets write more humanely.
Living with Nature’s poetic life
Poets write living poetry.
We Are Part Of Nature
We are part of Nature to her we belong
Those who tell you otherwise they have got it wrong
The only God or Goddess I can claim to know
Lives in Nature and my wonder of her only grow.
As much as the sheep or the goat or the cow
Or the blackbird who pipes upon the leafy bough
Or the wildflowers that bloom on the banks of the stream
We are part of Nature or so it does seem.
We are part of Nature it does seem to me
Though some with my opinions may well not agree
To Nature we have to return to one day
And in her earthy bosom our remains will lay.
As much as the koala or wombat or roo
Or as much as the black or the white cockatoo
Or as much as the echidna or the emu
We are part of Nature that fact remains true.
The Goddess who feeds us why must i explain
That we are part of Nature must i say it again?
As much as the blossoms on the leafy tree
We are part of Nature you as well as me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In The Vastness Of Nature
One never is short of things on which to write
Like butterflies flitting in the bright sunlight
Or the pleasant aroma of the blossoming trees
That wafts in the air of the freshening breeze.
In the vastness of Nature i do seem quite small
Like a wee grain of sand to a massive football
And the wonders of Nature are a magical thing
And the praises of Nature i feel happy to sing.
Us humans are part of Nature that's how it seems to me
And though many with what i have said may well not agree
On our very existence Nature has the say
And our remains in her bosom are destined to lay.
The one true immortal she lives on in time
So often has Nature inspired me to rhyme
To her vast distant oceans her great rivers flow
Yet so little of her ways i do seem to know.
I do my best to describe the great beauty i see
The wonders of Nature that are all around me
And the beauty of Nature never ceases to inspire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire?
poem by Francis Duggan
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You Who Cannot Love Nature
Her natural ways you only wish to control
You who cannot love Nature you do not have a soul
Our beloved Earth Goddess the source of the poet's muse
The one who sustains us and her you abuse.
A successful developer and a known millionaire
Yet you are not special and your type not rare
You have caused the death of many a tree
You cannot love Nature that seems sad to me.
You don't hear the birds sing where there once was a wood
Yet many look up to you see greed as good
Far too many people and too few who care
For the Goddess of Nature in her World out there.
You who cannot love Nature you do not understand
That we are a part of her as much as a grain of sand
And whether our remains they bury or burn
Of Nature we are and to her we'll return.
You who cannot love Nature the windows of your soul
Are covered in dark shades that are dark as coal
All of those who love Nature you look on as strange
And you snigger aloud at talk of climate change.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Nicest Season For One To Die
The nicest Season for one to die must surely be the Spring
When the Parklands wear their Wildflowers and song birds pipe and sing
And young birds are chirping in their nests and the sparrows all the day
Are busy under the house eaves weaving their nests of hay.
If I'm not burned to ashes then why not bury me
In that old graveyard on the hill preferably by a tree
Where in Spring birds will build their nest and sing their songs above where I lay
Though what happens to your remains when you are dead doesn't matter some do say.
We all belong to Mother Nature and to her we must return sometime
The reaper takes the young and old and those in their life's
prime
And since I too must die I hope 'twill be when flowers are in full bloom
In the prime of Spring when the air scent sweetly of Nature's own perfume.
Bury me in the Graveyard on the hill where peace is to be found
Beside a tree where birds nest and sing content in their home ground
A quiet place free of man made noise when Spring is in the air
In Nature's bosom I will rest beyond any living care.
poem by Francis Duggan
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