Near Non-sense Poem
When Michael Jackson did his debut,
A Donkey cried, 'Ho, Hee, I can do much better, pal! '
And I'm more child-friendly too,
So, children tie an empty tin to my tail and I run with fright,
Faster than the hare!
Just then an Wood-pecker, walked upwards a drumstick-tree
And pecked a hole in a trice with a few quick shots of his pointed beak,
And said, 'pea-nuts, who can do better than me? '
And flew onto the Cherry-tree.
And Jimi Hendrix eating pop-corn,
Was working on his key-board on his lap,
No, my buttocks hurt when I sit so long,
trying to concoct a new number!
So does my stomach too with the cheesecake, fruit-loops,
Crabs, Apple-juice and Sphagetti-O's!
And my ears hurt by the Amplifier noise,
Take revenge on me by destroying my sleep!
The Bumble-bee that buzzed past by
had a deja-vu after sucking on the glue!
'Happy flamingo, 'he said, 'With all my experience,
This is much better than a cream-pie! '
But no one cared about Weiner, the villain,
Admitted in the General-ward
of a Hospital with an abdominal binder,
Except for eleven Flying purple Monkeys
Who popped through the window
And stole away his bat-mobile,
finding nothing to eat near-by!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-05-2004
(a contest poem based on an array of unrelated words)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Custard Apple
It hung so near the trunk of the tree,
And stayed unnoticed for a long time,
Hidden by a leafy canopy,
And growing bigger than most others!
It was not scorched by the noon-time sun,
Nor wetted by the lashing rains,
Or shaken by the winds that howl,
But was over-fed in mother's way!
I plucked it off lest someone stole
Or wood-peckers come make a hole,
And parrots beak it up like nuts,
Leaving its empty rind hanging!
I wrapped the fruit in a plastic bag,
And thought it would ripen very soon;
Alas! The fruit never ripened at all,
Remaining green and looking fresh!
It was as hard as granite stone;
It did not dry or change color;
It stayed that way when kept outside,
But never ripened any day!
I pondered what could have happened
Preventing the fruit from ripening;
‘There is a time for everything,
And when a fruit ripens! ' - says the Bible.
Yet, human beings find new ways
Of doing things unnaturally;
Nevertheless, they hardly win;
But Mother Nature does better!
Man's knowledge and experience fails
In every field and every sphere;
The Nature, God created stays
Unraveled, unrivaled winner always.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-10-2012
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rabbit
On a day not sunny,
Out there popped a Bunny,
From its burrow nearby;
The Eve was utmost tranquil,
The rain had just then stopp’d by,
The air had a muddy smell!
A Rabbit on both hind-legs,
Stood up with high fore-legs,
Balanced, sniffed the air near-by!
Finding the Turnips sprouted,
It leapt with joy and jumped up,
Nibbled them with awe-some pride!
Its fleece was white as snow-white,
Making noise off its large nose,
It darted off as in a ballet-show!
Bumble Bees some buzzed around,
Butterflies too flew around,
The twee Bunny scampered home.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: The Drumstick-Tree’s Growth
Look how the drumstick grows in length each day!
It goes so fast as if our eyes can know;
The fruit though small, grows long in Nature’s way,
And in a few days time, ’tis stick-like, oh!
Incredible it looks when fully grown,
From such a small flower, its present size;
God’s marvel makes man appear like a clown,
And yet, man will not agree God is wise.
The bees and butterflies too play their role;
Seeking nectar, they transfer pollen grains;
What umptine fruits cover the tree-like pole!
The lengthy fruits hang down like giant canes!
The drumstick tree shows God’s work at its best;
How much more wonderful, He’s done the rest!
poem by John Celes
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Lessons from a Woodpecker
The woodpecker will not give up,
Until the hole it planned is made!
It walks upon the trunk upside,
Its clawed feet holding bark firmly!
It pecks and pecks while turning head;
It bangs and drums upon the tree;
It hammers, chisels, saws and files,
The sharp beak digging circularly!
The pecking actions cause echoes
In air surrounding bird on tree;
With great a force, it pecks each time,
But does not mind feeling giddy!
It pecks and pecks as wood chips fly;
The bristly tongue helps it to clear;
The beak keeps hitting edge of hole,
As head of bird, then goes deeper!
It takes a month to make a hole!
The woodpecker will not give up;
It comes back to the hole each day,
And deepens it some more, some way!
The woodpecker has taught me how
Hard labor, perseverance clicks;
And lo! The nest is filled with love,
As noisy cries come from new chicks!
Yes, Mother Nature teaches all,
Such golden lessons for no fee;
Oh, listen to her daily call;
Success will smile on you, may be!
When one has aimed to do something,
Come in the way, don’t let a thing;
Work till the job is fully done;
Nothing in life, you leave half-done!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-15-2010
poem by John Celes
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The Cherry Tree
The Cherry Tree
There was a Cherry Tree,
In our house at Number Three;
‘T was a variety from Singapore,
Presented by a friend, now no more.
On the western side of our house,
To be away from the straying cows;
It was planted—a sapling, rare,
And nurtured with ample care.
Soon with shoots it grew tall,
And was high above the compound wall;
Pride in us did surely swell,
To behold the tree growing so well,
Its branches now did spread and sprawl,
And to the next house too it did crawl;
Its shade permeated through to the hall,
And ushered in cool breeze to us all.
The white blossoms of the cherry,
Drew swarms of bees—so merry,
Raw green cherries then popped,
Which turned bright red and dropped.
The green tree with cherries so red,
Was like an ornament with rubies studded;
It was sure a splendid sight,
Even in the glow of the moon-lit night.
The cherry fruits tasted very sweet,
Though for some it wasn't a treat;
To crush a fruit ‘twixt your teeth'
A current of joy ran underneath.!
Many were the children of the street,
Who vied for the cherries so sweet;
They'd climb the tree, up to pick,
And fill their pockets till there were sick.
The crows would claim the tree their own,
And feed the nestlings with cherries grown,
Dawn would hail the cuckoo's spree,
With its sonorous call from atop the tree.
Under the shade of the cherry tree,
On the landing of stairs, with glee,
I've oft with it mute communion held,
And there, have many a poem, spelled.
This Cherry Tree, so much prized,
After eight years was much disguised;
Alas! It lost its branches and was browned,
With out-stretched limbs, to be razed to ground! .
The Cherry Tree is now no more,
As I pen this, I miss it as ne'er before;
But to eye its photograph, my heart does leap,
And a warmth in me does truly seep!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Makin Some Noise
When I was a young boy
I was workin for the state
I wasnt makin much money
I was stayin out late
Go down at nighttime and
Play music in the bars
Take my breaks out underneath the stars
I was makin some noise
I was a workin boy up at the top of my voice
Sayin look at me mama Im makin some noise
I had to rock the boat, I had to shake the tree
To see whatd fall down on me
I thought maybe I can make it if I never give in
I been down before, I aint goin down again
Im makin some noise
I been a worried boy up at the top of my voice
Sayin look at me mama Im makin some noise
From across the canyon a guitar plays
Through an amplifier on a long delay
It was an ol d melody I recognized the song
I had an amplifier too, so I played along
Im makin some noise, Im still a working boy
Up at the top of my voice
Sayin look at me mama Im makin some noise
Im makin some noise, I been a long gone boy
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Christmas Remembered
A Christmas Remembered
Day before Christmas it was cold and we walked down
to the harbour to buy a tree and I remember the sea
that slapped against the dock was apple green and foamy.
Mother bought a tree, for next to nothing, since its top
was broken and it looked like a rejected child that waited
for a car to come pick it up and bring it to the orphanage
By putting the tree on top of the dinner table and a star
and a bit of glitter it looked nice in a child’s eye.
Mother was angry we didn’t know way, and went to bed.
We children sat on the floor and ate lukewarm rice pudding
and there was nothing under the tree. Mother got up told
us to dress and we walked to my uncle’s house. At first he
didn’t want to let her in, but when he saw us children he
opened the door. We had plenty to eat although my aunt
had a sour mien. But happy we walked home and thought
we had had a splendid Christmas.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Adam and Eve Apple Fantasy
I am bored Adam
I am bored Eve
Let's walk together in the garden
It is afternoon Adam
It is afternoon Eve
Our tummies are empty
Let's have something to eat
It is beautiful garden of Eden
How wonderful the fruit trees!
Adam look honey
This beautiful Apple tree
No Eve this is the knowledge tree
Look Eve there is sign in the sky
Can't you see?
Lord command 'Don't eat from the apple tree'
Ha Ha Ha
Who is that?
I am serpent of the garden
Listen Adam
Listen Eve
Go pick the big apple
from the tree
Adam my honey
Do you hear me?
My stomach is aching
go get me this delicious apple
Eve I would not disobey the Lord
Oh Adam
Oh Honey
You seduce me Eve
Ooh Adam
Ooh Eve
Something happened after
we ate the apple
Go Adam get some Fig leaves
Adam Let's rest
under the shaded tree
Adam let's have babies
Eve let's have off-springs
poem by Sherif Monem
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I don't have nothing to regret at all in the past, except that I might've unintentionally hurt somebody else or something.
quote by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Caterpillar
Dangling down its silken thread,
A caterpillar came;
From atop a branch of tree,
After her feeding game.
Little did it think that there,
A leafy twig green stood,
While it began to descend down,
Dancing across the air.
It jumped in fright upwards from where
It attempted to fall;
The leafy branch too followed it,
And formed a bottom wall.
The Caterpillar sensed the leaves,
And found them succulent;
Alighting gently upon it,
It romped home happily!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-5-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hill slope
Down on the hill slope a tree was there with flowers on it,
Season came and season goes,
it remain there with shade and fruits to give,
Small wood pecker or big owl,
all were there as it was there home to live,
One day a wood cutter found it useful to him,
he thought it to cut and takes its wood to sell in city,
birds and squirrel on tree helplessly saw the tree,
they tried to make noise,
but it didn't affected the woodcutter in the need
he cut down the tree to take the wood,
the tree on hiill slope became log of wood,
weak protest of bird and animals,
on it was not enough,
to save the tree.
tree full of life became silent as saying what was my fault,
is it only there right to live,
but yes its true only humans here,
are powerfull and can do anything to live and win,
hill slope became barren and dry like desert
poor tree however it was home for many
didn't found the place on to live on earth.
the reason it don't understand
why it is weak and meek.not able to
survive and get its right to stay alive to give shade and life to others.
poem by Hemu Gupta
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For Those Who Grieve
no one
no one can really stop you
from eating the bark of the tree
the thick skin of the
fruit
no one can tell you what should have
been proper
or better
you like the skin and you throw away
the fruit that could have
satisfied your
thirst and hunger
the bark has poisoned you
the moon has warned you too well
the worm is wriggling
its frail and elongated
body
you have no ears
your sense of smell so badly damaged
and now you
are dying
no one tells you that life is as sweet
as the ripe fruit of the tree
that luscious flesh that flowing
juice
your gaze is sharp as a knife
stabbing even the
sun
and you are always right
what you have been searching
that can satisfy your hunger and thirst
is not found on the fruit
not even in the tree
it is in the poisonous bark
that useless skin
that silly coat
definitely it is not even here
where we are all grieving
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Two Shots Of Happy, One Shot Of Sad
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
You think Im no good, well I know Ive been bad
Took you to a place, now you cant get back
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Walked together down a dead end street
We were mixing the bitter with the sweet
Dont try to figure out what we might of had
Just two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Im just a singer, some say a sinner
Rolling the dice, not always a winner
You say Ive been lucky, well hell Ive made my own
Not part of the crowd, but not feeling alone
Under pressure, but not bent out of shape
Surrounded, we always found an escape
Drove me to drink, but hey thats not all bad
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Guess Ive been greedy, all of my life
Greedy with my children, my lovers, my wife
Greedy for the good things as well as the bad
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Maybe its just talk, saloon singing
The chairs are all stacked, the swingings stopped swinging
You say I hurt you, you put the finger on yourself
Then after you did it, you came crying for my help
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Im not complaining, baby Im glad
You call it a compromise, well whats that
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad
(happy birthday, frank)
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To The Cherry Blossom
I have grown up with this tree,
as my father had grown with it,
and his father before him.
The cherry blossom tree where I was first exposed to the beauty of nature,
where my baby seat was set upon the picnic blanket in the grass,
and I could watch the petals fall and dance around me and my family.
and they would land in my seat,
and I would play with them.
The cherry blossom tree,
with its long branches,
where I first learned to climb,
and where I got my first broken bone,
after I slipped while pretending to be a monkey.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we had our first play date together.
We ran around and played two person tag,
and two person hide and seek,
and two person leap frog.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we had our first date,
where I picked a blossom and put it in your hair,
and called you my hime,
my princess.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we took shelter from the pouring rain,
and I gave you my jacket to put over your head,
and we ran home to take a bath in our clothes,
Because they couldn’t have gotten wetter anyway.
The cherry blossom tree,
under which we said our vows,
and got married,
and you cried,
and said you felt beautiful,
and I kissed you,
and said you looked beautiful,
and we ran through the blossom petals.
The cherry blossom tree,
where we took our two daughters,
and watched them pick flowers,
and give them to you.
The cherry blossom tree,
where our daughters took their loves,
and probably got caught in the rain,
just as we did.
The cherry blossom tree,
which we would watch from the near by bench,
watch children who were not ours play there,
watch couples who were not us date there.
The cherry blossom tree,
where I go to remember you,
where I sometimes cry for you,
where our daughters cry for you.
I grew up with that cherry blossom tree,
and now as I wait to rejoin you,
my love,
I watch others grow with it too.
poem by Evan Puglisi
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There Was a Cherry-Tree
There was a cherry-tree. Its bloomy snows
Cool even now the fevered sight that knows
No more its airy visions of pure joy --
As when you were a boy.
There was a cherry-tree. The Bluejay sat
His blue against its white -- O blue as jet
He seemed there then!-- But now -- Whoever knew
He was so pale a blue!
There was a cherry-tree -- our child-eyes saw
The miracle:-- Its pure white snows did thaw
Into a crimson fruitage, far too sweet
But for a boy to eat.
There was a cherry-tree, give thanks and joy!--
There was a bloom of snow -- There was a boy --
There was a bluejay of the realest blue --
And fruit for both of you.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Dads Cherry Tree
There was a large cherry tree in my yard
This tree t’was my dad ‘s favorite
And as the cherry tree grew up to thy sky
He did have a decision
whether or not to chop the tree down
Or risk it falling and killing him
For you see this old cherry tree did
Stand right over his bed
So if the wind kick up or lightning did strike
Would be his end for
The tree would fall and he would go
So unfortunately with the tree
So he would make great decision
And hopefully make it right
It took him many years and many a time
He thought’s the did spite
Him for the year’s went by and the cherry tree
Got more demised, nearer to the bed
As he would lay and begin to wonder
Will this take off my head
So as the year the did expire
Then He finally said
I will take the old tree down
Above my own bed
And the so alas the cherry fell
The tree would breathe its last
And be cut down to stump and be
Safe for dad once again
The tree was made low and the branches did go
Right into the meat smoker
But out of the ash cloud grew another
through the thorns and choker
the tree did live on in another a tree that grew
and so the tree was reborn
from a cherry, the trees great fruit
and so this little sapling grew and it grew
and it grew 1,2,3 foot by the crowing of the year
and so it grew and it got taller
as a little sapling then might or would do
and the tree got no smaller
as it grew to be as tall as dad and it was
staring him in the eye
he said we got to dig this up
look at the size
for you see the little sapling was right in my garden
and blocking the sunshine
so we dug and dug and dug
it took a lot of time
but finally we got up pulled it out of the ground
and moved to better spot
were it would live in peace and harmony
the place we set was not to hot
But it was not to cold either, it was
It was a nice spot with all
of the tree for the young cherry’s company
the tree grew very tall
And with it happy position that there was
it was a great sight
To see this cherry tree again live
And never have to fight
Now when my dad he did see this
he was so overjoyed
He had his cherry tree’s son and offspring
And never again did he toy
With planting or cutting down old cherry trees
He loved his tree so dear
That he would be indeed collecting all the cherries
And never wrong was he steered
poem by Timothy Young
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Window
I looked out the window at dawn and saw a young apple tree
translucent in brightness.
And when I looked out at dawn once again, an apple tree laden with
fruit stood there.
Many years had probably gone by but I remember nothing of what
happened in my sleep.
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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Sonnet: To Abort is Sheer Ruthlessness
What heart of man can cut a plant with buds?
What cruel mind will fell a tree with fruits;
None slash the branches with blossoms for woods;
No one removes fruit-bearing tree by roots.
Just fools would use grenades to fish in lakes;
You cannot have tree-house and also tree;
No offspring come from factories as makes;
God gave us mind and heart to think afree.
Yet, man resorts to abortions often;
A tiny man is maimed or killed this way;
Will not the heart of mankind bit soften?
One life shouldn’t take another any day!
All lives are same to God, born or unborn;
Allow the baby in womb, to be born.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-10-2008
poem by John Celes
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Roots, Trees, and Fruits
A tree is known by its root
The source of its first life
A fruit is known by the tree
As a man is known through strife.
The root of a man is his family
The tree is the man that has grown-
The words that he writes in poetry
Show the rearing he has known.
-
Copyright Cynthia Buhain -Baello
July 6,2009 Tarlac City Philippines
--
'No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit.
Each tree is recognized by own fruit.'
Luke 6: 43
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Baby's First Day Out
Government General Hospital
Maternity Ward No. 42
authorized intake : 65
actually admitted : 97
most busiest LABOUR ROOM
in the district
every 18 th minute
you will hear a new born cry
birth rate is higher
on Sundays and Holidays
24 x 7 Industry - very great service -
in the large pre-natal hall
there hangs a small, old sign board
both in Hindi and vernacular
' Beware of Thieves
Keep your belongings safe'
with an ugly insertion, as a last line,
‘Protect your child from being
Stolen or exchanged'
as if, the restricted labour ward is
just any other market place.
poem by Santhana Louis
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