I want to grow yet I know the thunderbolt strikes the tallest trees.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Thunderbolt
I am the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt staying bold.
I'm the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.
You may decide to run and hide.
But I've learned throughout my life...
Those who run let life slip by,
And cry in denial.
Setting themselves up...
For struggles and trials.
When I was young I was often hushed,
I would question too much.
With unedited questions asked.
To connect in my mind to grasp.
I am the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
And with a boldness I still hold.
When I was young I was often hushed,
I would question too much.
With unedited questions asked.
To connect in my mind to grasp.
Zip zap crack with answers due.
Answer my questions asked of you!
I'm the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.
Zip zap crack with answers due.
Answer my questions asked of you!
I am the result of a thunderbolt,
That struck and stayed bold.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that thunderbolt that remained bold.
There were no shoulders for me to hold.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
There were no shoulders for me to hold.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I'm that result of a thunderbolt.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
There were no shoulders with warm holds.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I am the result of a thunderbolt.
I might have been precocious!
But not braggadocious.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
I am that result of a thunderbolt.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring comes only once.
The spring strikes; the trees blossom.
Bees swam and the trees bloom.
The autumn strikes; the trees shed.
Bees are nowhere around the trees.
Spring comes to woman only once
That she must enjoy without a miss.
26.11.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Love is from judging
Love is rare to strike at first sight.
It strikes at mutual weight and grow.
It crumbles down when imbalance strikes
Who loves each other before weighing each other other?
23.04.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Trees Are, I Am!
Just trees will grow in shapes that please,
My shapes do grow like limbs;
Eyes see, ears hear - abilities!
But trees possess just whims.
Where trees are, I am! So you are
The one with limbs, the one
Who swears with words always bizarre,
Phrases of prediction.
The plants called trees are super-wise,
The stalks are trunks profound,
Their limbs and roots also advise,
The trees are aboveground.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The tallest Trees are most in the Power of the Winds, and Ambitious Men of the Blasts of Fortune.
quote by William Penn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do you see how the god always hurls his bolts at the greatest houses and the tallest trees. For he is wont to thwart whatever is greater than the rest.
Suicide Tree
You see those trees,
Standing big and tall,
Some are bent,
Because they are begining to fall.
The lightning strikes,
And hits the tree,
Some may fall,
But others don't break free.
The bullies are the lightning strikes,
The victoms are the trees,
This is what life is,
What happens when you break free.
If you see a tree that's fallen,
It broke free,
To tree heaven,
A suicide tree.
poem by Alicia Meyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loss Of My Friend
Today I lost my best friend
The best that could ever be
his love for me was tall and strong
Just like the tallest tree
I felt his strength around me
The branches hugged me close
Now I feel I’ve been ripped bare
I feel so lost and exposed
I will not let my dear friend down
And wallow in self pity
I will again grow tall and strong
Just like that tallest tree
So when it’s time to meet again
He will instantly recognise me
And I will feel those arms again
like those branches on that tree
Laurena Pamela White
poem by Laurena Pamela Willetts
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Tree Climbing
When I was 6 years of age,
I would go tree climbing all through the day.
My older brother would say to his friends,
“My sister Suzy can climb highest, you want to bet? ”
I would then look up at the tallest tree,
I knew I could make it without falling on my knee.
Yes, I would go straight to the top,
the top of the highest tree and then I’ld stop,
I would look down to see the world,
I was the happiest little girl.
All the trees where close together,
I felt like a bird with a lot of feathers.
I had made it to where the birds do roam,
I was at the top of the tower at my throne.
This reminds me of “Rising of the Planet of the Apes,
When Cornelius was happy to escape.
Climbing the tallest tree,
watching him brought back memories.
Memories of my tree climbing days,
I will always remember it in a special kind of way.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 28,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Nurse's Watch
From 'The Boy's Wonderhorn'
The moon it shines,
My darling whines;
The clock strikes twelve:--God cheer
The sick both far and near.
God knoweth all;
Mousy nibbles in the wall;
The clock strikes one:--like day,
Dreams o'er thy pillow play.
The matin-bell
Wakes the nun in convent cell;
The clock strikes two:--they go
To choir in a row.
The wind it blows,
The cock he crows;
The clock strikes three:--the wagoner
In his straw bed begins to stir.
The steed he paws the floor,
Creaks the stable door;
The clock strikes four:--'tis plain
The coachman sifts his grain.
The swallow's laugh the still air shakes,
The sun awakes;
The clock strikes five:--the traveler must be gone,
He puts his stockings on.
The hen is clacking,
The ducks are quacking;
The clock strikes six:--awake, arise,
Thou lazy hag; come, ope thy eyes.
Quick to the baker's run;
The rolls are done;
The clock strikes seven:--
'Tis time the milk were in the oven.
Put in some butter, do,
And some fine sugar, too;
The clock strikes eight:--
Now bring my baby's porridge straight.
poem by Clemens Maria Brentano
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Eco-logical
'Trees need their alone time too' I read it just now
in a poem by Bob Hicok and just like that
the world expanded thoughtfully and gloriously
and I imagined the whole of nature
giving a great sigh of relief
like a dog does when it lies down for the night
and a great sigh goes from the tips of its paws
to its ears or of course it might be the other way around
and trees with that sigh get on with their nightly cleansing routine
and expel all the stuff that mankind has made them put up with
in the world that we 'share' ha ha
and then think about the poor trees in the park and the streets
who've been passive smokers all day not to mention
gas-guzzlers without the accompanying four wheels
to enable them to getoutahere into the countryside for the weekend
to **** that up too yes I'm sorry trees although I must say
you do a good job of it and with silent patience
and don't write complaining to the newpapers in a mass protest
which is just as well as those papers need more trees
so I was just almost feeling complacent that Nature
seems to be well just about keeping the whole thing
on the rails until I looked up at the tops of the tallest trees
and saw the tops dying off
and wanted right then to know if prayer would help
because what else will
and thank you Bob and I guess poetry too
for half a line that brought me to the world
and a laugh then tears.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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If the poet be pure in his morals, he will be pure in his verses too; the pen is the tongue of the mind, and as the thought engendered there, so will be the things that it writes down. And when kings and princes observe this marvelous science of poetry in wise, virtuous, and thoughtful subjects, they honor, value, exalt them, and even crown them witt the leaves of that tree which the thunderbolt strikes not, as if to shos that they whose brows are honored and adorned with such a crown are not to be assailed by anyone.
Miguel de Cervantes in Don
Quixote
de
la
Mancha (1605), translated by John
Ormsby
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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They Raised The Flag For Me
They raised the flag for me
Infront of the city's tallest buildings
So now my job is to keep the flags flying
All the time
Infront of the city's tallest buildings
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mind
There rings the bell
The dream strikes hard
Awakening the girl
A dream so bad
There comes joy
The thoughts strike hard
Happy is the boy
In the end gets mad
There goes hope
Night strikes hard
Man hangs on a rope
A story so sad
There sounds the gun
Day dream strikes hard
The woman can't run
Just waits for the blood
There comes war
The life strikes hard
All on the floor
In the red liquid flood.
poem by Walani Ndhlovu
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I Grow Old
I grow old I should feel the cold
I grow old I should have grey hair
I grow old I should sit and stare
I grow old I should have false teeth
I grow old I should have poor sight
I grow old I should forget to write
I grow old I should have aches and pains
I grow old I should 'stroll down memory lane'
I grow old I should walk with a stick
But as I grow old I KICK ASS!
And that's about it!
poem by Yvette Smith
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It’s in the grey land
It’s in the grey land
that I am caught like in a labyrinth
and while life passes by
I am looking for direction, for a place
to come out of the marsh
and everywhere around me
there are flowers growing in the swamp,
rain showers down like kettledrums
and thunderbolt after thunderbolt falls nearer and nearer to me
and I am searching for a star, a light
or even steadiness
when I realise that You are with me everywhere
and know of everything that happens,
that You rather rescue, love and help
than being bent on measuring out damnation
and that You bring answers
when it seems impossible
and it is then that I see Your Southern Cross
which leads me out
from where I was blinded by city lights.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sonnet: Let Goodness Always Prevail
The mammoth trees are cut for timber's sake;
Large trees along the roads are felled as well;
The smaller ones in wild now grow and swell;
Then clouds to pour the rain, how can God make!
When virtues aren't nurtured in life sometime,
Then vices grow with vengeance in man's heart;
When bells of praise and hymns to God don't chime,
Blessings and grace from heaven can't depart.
When man's good deeds are stopped for reasons much,
His sins grow from a mole to mountain size;
How can the Maker's favours ever touch,
As sins abound and soul afills with vice?
For God to bless, our righteousness must grow,
And seeds of virtues, good deeds, one must sow!
poem by John Celes
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My beautiful flowering trees
My beautiful flowering trees
One day I shall buy some land
Plant countless seeds
And watch them grow
Into beautiful flowering trees
A cool breeze
Will bring me
Sweet fragrances
From a thousand flowering trees
I shall listen
To the songs
From birds perched
In the tall flowering trees
I shall play
With my children and theirs
In the vast expanse of green
Amongst beautiful flowering trees
One day I shall rest
Passing into oblivion
My ashes scattered
Amidst the beautiful flowering trees
by Ash (Rishi's Dad)
poem by Rishi Menon
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Who strikes his father or mother his hand will grow out of the grave.
Solitary trees, if they grow at all, grow strong.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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