Sonnet: Vie Not With Others
So light is the wood of the willow-tree,
Yet, strong enough for cricket-bats to make;
So hard is the wood of the ebony,
Which heavy trunks of elephants dare take.
The bamboo-shoot, a musical reed makes,
And when ’tis green, elephants eat like cakes;
The paddy-straw is fit for just the cow;
The tallest grass to wind must always bow.
Each flower, frond, plant, tree, creatures on earth,
Has a role to play, predestined from birth;
One need not try to copy the other;
One can do just what one is meant for, brother.
There is nothing to vie with the next man;
Each one must do just whatever he can.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The tree that knew me.
My tree will know it all
The tree of my childhood
With the endless branches
And the many whispers
Time that it can only measure
My tree remembers
The boy with the wind in his hair
The boy with the crazy laughter
The boy with the fear of living and of lifes unknowns
The boy I used to be
Before the internet or the mac
Playstation Nintendo and games that attack.
My tree remembers me
Clinbing its branches into the sky
Hung on its strong limb
A swing
Of rope and wood.
Telling me I should
Swing as high as I could
Touch the weightless sky
On the magical piece of wood
I can fly and pierce the sky.
My tree remembers
Red Light
Green light
Outdoor street light
Before
My first crush or even a kiss
Dodgeball
And street baseball
Red rover
Red rover
Please come over
And play
Hide and seek
Take cover
And be meek
In my tree
Is everything I want to be.
Imaganary places
People
Creatures
And mystical things
High In my tree
I can see the world
But no one can see me...
My tree remembers me
The boy I use to be
My tree does not know what happened to me
My life has no room for fasanations of fantasys
Now complacted full of responsibilities
I have no time
To many dead lines
My tree looked at me
And said this is where you should be..
One day I drove hurriedly by.....
The pain of progress has its cost
And my tree has lost its spot
It was no longer needed for shade and play,
And its slow pace way
Was its end.
In my heart that tree and me are not appart.
poem by Howard Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sea-Saw (more writing fun)
If I saw a wood boat afloat
Upon the sea,
Would what I see possibly be
The wood I cut from a tree?
For when I saw a tree
I would like to think I see,
What the wood I saw
Could be.
If all I saw in wood from a tree
Was all I saw that there was to see,
Would what I did saw
Be the wood that I now see?
And if the wood I once did saw
Was indeed made into that ship on the sea,
Would it even be possible to know that here what I see
Is the wood once sawed by me?
All I here would dare to share is:
I see what I saw, and I saw what I see,
And therefore the wood I do saw could one day be
The boat I may see, afloat upon the sea.
See?
poem by Smoky Hoss
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The Willow Tree
I am a Willow Tree, that sways gently in the wind
I am a Willow Tree, who has no limits.
I am a Willow Tree, who has long and beautiful branches
I am a Willow Tree, who provides shade and comfort.
I am a Willow Tree, who can be placed anywhere
I am a Willow Tree, I whisper in the wind.
I am a Willow Tree, you think I'm very free
I am a Willow Tree, don't ever want to be me.
poem by Lucy Gocher
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The Helmsman
O be swift—
we have always known you wanted us.
We fled inland with our flocks.
we pastured them in hollows,
cut off from the wind
and the salt track of the marsh.
We worshipped inland—
we stepped past wood-flowers,
we forgot your tang,
we brushed wood-grass.
We wandered from pine-hills
through oak and scrub-oak tangles,
we broke hyssop and bramble,
we caught flower and new bramble-fruit
in our hair: we laughed
as each branch whipped back,
we tore our feet in half-buried rocks
and knotted roots and acorn-cups.
We forgot—we worshipped,
we parted green from green,
we sought further thickets,
we dipped our ankles
through leaf-mould and earth,
and wood and wood-bank enchanted us—
and the feel of the clefts in the bark,
and the slope between tree and tree—
and a slender path strung field to field
and wood to wood
and hill to hill
and the forest after it.
We forgot—for a moment
tree-resin, tree-bark,
sweat of a torn branch
were sweet to taste.
We were enchanted with the fields,
the tufts of coarse grass—
in the shorter grass—
we loved all this.
But now, our boat climbs—hesitates—drops—
climbs—hesitates—crawls back—
climbs—hesitates—
O, be swift—
we have always known you wanted us.
poem by Hilda Doolittle
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In The Jungle....two
at day-break,
elephants rub their back, on the trees,
smoothened over years.
and sandy showers, using their trunks,
making others feel small,
against their enormity.
elephants, boisterously breaking tree after tree,
plantation 's and huts,
in a frenzy for food.
look at the malaba squirrel, a busybee,
sporting a striped jacket,
hurrying and scurrying,
gathering food for sustenance.
search for food and water is everywhere.
in the jungle it is the survival f the fittest!
poem by Ritty Patnaik
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What is it about genus arboretum that socks us in the figurative solar plexus We see a logging truck go cruising down the road, stacked with a bunch of those fresh-cut giants, we feel like we lost a brother. Next thing you know, we're in The Brick, we're flopping money down on the bar. Wood. We're under a roof. Wood. We're walking the floors. Wood. Grabbing a pool cue. That's wood. Our friends in the forest carry a set of luggage from the mythical baggage carousel. Tree of life, tree of knowledge, family tree, Buddha's Bodhi tree. Page one of life, in the beginning. Genesis 322. Adam and Eve. They're kicking back in the garden of Eden and boom, they get an eviction notice. Why is that Lest they should also take of the tree of life, eat and live forever. A definitive Yahweh no-no. Be good to yourself, go out and plant a wet one on a tree.
quote by Diane Frolov
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I was only three I planted a tree
When I was three I planted a tree. This was my tree and together we would always be. I gave it love and it to me, and so we were happy, me and my tree.
Then one day they came to see me and my tree. Men with no faces, and they said to me, you must go, and leave this tree.
Buy why I ask. For we've done no harm. Me and my tree, please let us be.
So they left us alone, me and my tree, but only for a while but I could not see.
Then one day they came and took me away. My tree was needed to save the day. Goods it will make it makes perfect sense. So we will take this tree, for wood we need. And so it was done, they took my tree.
And now I look around, my tree I no longer see. Taken from, this tree I planted when I was three.
poem by Brad Milner
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Through The Wood
THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.
Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?
Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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I'm Just An Ordinary Tree
My existence
start from a little piece of seed...
First, I was bury on the ground...
Then, I showed my two cute leaves up in to world...
But it didn't end just like that...
I grow... more and more...
With love, hope and care,
I became a tree...
Tree with many leaves,
if you need some shady circumstance...
Tree with a strong wood,
if you need me to make a good wardrobe...
Tree with a tight root,
if you want to make a solid foundation...
Tree with a sincerely pray,
if you need a support...
Tree with an everlasting presence,
if you need a friend beside you forever...
Tree with a dry branch,
if you want to share your tears...
Tree with a pure dew,
if you feel thirsty...
Tree with a warm wind,
if you get cold and alone...
Tree with a full color's flowers,
if you feel your life so black and white...
Tree with many hopes,
if you lost your dreams away...
But... after all,
I'm just an ordinary Tree...
By: Tree
22 May 2007,7: 02 PM
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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Be Brave!
Be brave! They say, but they don't know
The terrors that I've seen!
Pink elephants with eyes that glow
That glare and look so mean!
Those elephants can really roar,
Like trumpets from their trunks!
Then they taunt me with their encore,
They dance as if they're hunks!
They may look hunks to someone else,
As they prance on the ground,
But I wish they'd say their farewells,
I don't like them around!
You've never seen long tusks their size!
Like spears from left to right!
I put my hands upon my eyes!
I just can't stand the sight!
Pink elephants! They're everywhere!
The cops won't do a thing...
They smile at me like they don't care,
Say I'm imagining!
I don't take drugs and don't drink booze!
God's got it in for me!
They'll lock me up, won't let me loose,
They'll throw away the key!
At last, I'm all alone, at last!
This padded cell is great...
No longer feeling quite downcast...
The catering's first rate...
I think I'll stay here for a while...
No trunks, no tusks, no ears...
In fact, that thought sure makes me smile...
I could stay here for years...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Fantasy...
A tree and its shadow
And a dreamy meadow
Waiting for someone....
The Shadow asks ' how is she doing? '
Tree whispers ' shhh! sleeping'
'oops! sorry' says shadow and waits
waiting...they are for the flower that sleeps
on a thin green brunch of the tree
The tree, now drowsy, as sun
Readies itself to set, for the night
and the little shadow? it grows unwatched
With the dimming light
The Tree sleeps,
The meadow sleeps
Huts sleep
and the man inside it
Is in slumber too
Tiny little shadow grows into night
Embraces life with darkness punctured with lights
Dawn Awakes
Sun rays come running back to the tree
Tree asks 'my shadow? where IS he? '
the Tallest palm tree, sky abreast
says 'i think I saw him running northwest! '
The Shadow creeps in and stands upon a pebble
Says ' i wana see...i wana see! ' with boyish charm
Then The flower finally falls
Into shadow's lap
'shh! she's still taking a nap! '
says tree to his friend
Wind blows, it wants to play with her
The sleeping beauty, The flower
'Look! Look! ...she's smiling!
She's happy! she must be dreaming! '
The shadow hushes, excited!
A girl comes out of the hut...
Takes the flower, the sweet, from Shadows lap
What will you do with her, little girl?
She's taking a nap! '
'I'll play with it', the little girl says
The Shadow starts crying
The tree wishpers...
' dont cry dear...let it be...
Tommorrow morning You'll see
Our flower is back with us
On your lap she's lying!
Night comes again
Tree and its shadow sleeps
with Dreamy smiles on their lips
Dawn brings light to the tree and shadow
They wake up and see
Adorned with Dew drops like some rare gems
Their Sweet little flower is back with them!
poem by Saurabh Som
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When Orpheus Sweetly Did Complayne
When Orpheus sweetly did complayne
Upon his lute with heavy strayne
How his Euridice was slayne,
The trees to heare
Obtayn'd an eare,
And after left it off againe.
At every stroake and every stay
The boughs kept time, and nodding lay,
And listened bending all one way:
The aspen tree
As well as hee
Began to shake and learn'd to play.
If wood could speake, a tree might heare,
If wood could sound true greife so neare
A tree might dropp an amber teare:
If wood so well
Could ring a knell
The Cipres might condole the beare.
The standing nobles of the grove
Hearing dead wood so speak and move
The fatall axe beganne to love:
They envyde death
That gave such breath
As men alive doe saints above
poem by William Strode
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Which Tree Am I?
Which tree, Which tree, Which tree Am I?
Do gaunt limbs swing high upon my trunk-
Etching signals in the sky?
Maybe my roots are solid and firm,
Grounded in being, strong and thick,
Passing soil and grub worm?
Specifically-
Am I, perhaps, an evergreen?
Warm and welcoming- Sheltering,
Birds within my canopy?
Or-
Do I sag, like a willow,
Showcasing agony with each wind,
Whispering melancholic mellows?
Which tree, Which tree, Which tree, Am I?
Oak, Redwood, Willow…. Bonsai?
poem by Lazarus Knix
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Leaf And The Tree
When will you learn, myself, to be
a dying leaf on a living tree?
Budding, swelling, growing strong,
Wearing green, but not for long,
Drawing sustenance from air,
That other leaves, and you not there,
May bud, and at the autumn's call
Wearing russet, ready to fall?
Has not this trunk a deed to do
Unguessed by small and tremulous you?
Shall not these branches in the end
To wisdom and the truth ascend?
And the great lightning plunging by
Look sidewise with a golden eye
To glimpse a tree so tall and proud
It sheds its leaves upon a cloud?
Here, I think, is the heart's grief:
The tree, no mightier than the leaf,
Makes firm its root and spreads it crown
And stands; but in the end comes down.
That airy top no boy could climb
Is trodden in a little time
By cattle on their way to drink.
The fluttering thoughts a leaf can think,
That hears the wind and waits its turn,
Have taught it all a tree can learn.
Time can make soft that iron wood.
The tallest trunk that ever stood,
In time, without a dream to keep,
Crawls in beside the root to sleep.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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The Man Splitting Wood in the Daybreak
The man splitting wood in the daybreak
looks strong, as though, if one weakened,
one could turn to him and he would help.
Gus Newland was strong. When he split wood
he struck hard, flashing the bright steel
through the air so hard the hard maple
leapt apart, as it's feared marriages will do
in countries reluctant to permit divorce,
and even willow, which, though stacked
to dry a full year, on being split
actually weeps—totem wood, therefore,
to the married-until-death—sunders
with many little lip-wetting gasp-noises.
But Gus is dead. We could turn to our fathers,
but they help us only by the unperplexed
looking-back of the numerals cut into headstones.
Or to our mothers, whose love, so devastated,
can't, even in spring, break through the hard earth.
Our spouses weaken at the same rate we do.
We have to hold our children up to lean on them.
Everyone who could help goes or hasn't arrived.
What about the man splitting wood in the daybreak,
who looked strong? That was years ago. That was me.
poem by Galway Kinnell
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Torture
When they torture your mother
plant a tree
When they torture your father
plant a tree
When they torture your brother
and your sister
plant a tree
When they assassinate
your leaders
and lovers
plant a tree
Whey they torture you
too bad
to talk
plant a tree.
When they begin to torture
the trees
and cut down the forest
they have made
start another.
poem by Alice Walker
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Put On Your Green Shoes
Gather round children and you will hear
The sound of a cricket crying in your ear
Thats mother nature, shes crying out loud
This old earth needs some loving now, so
Chorus:
Put on your green shoes
Put on your green shoes
Mother nature, shes calling to you
To put on your green shoes
Put on your green shoes and walk with me
Well go around back and plant a tree
Help it grow and you will see
The way the world was meant to be
Chorus
Wonder how the world would be
Without the shade of a redwood tree
Without all the fish, the birds and the bees
Springtime would be lonely, so
Chorus
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The problem is that during the 1980s, a decade of heavy poaching, the elephants retreated to safer areas. And now people have moved into the corridors once used by the elephants.
quote by Richard Leakey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What do we plant when we plant a tree?
What do we get when we plant the tree?
We plant the ship which will cross the sea;
We plant the pencils to scribble our notes,
We plant the ballots to cast our votes;
We plant the paper in which we read,
The news that o'er wooden poles we speed,
We plant the piles to erect our docks;
We plant the rayon for shirts and socks.
What do we plant when we plant a tree?
We plant the houses for you and me;
We plant the rafters, the shingles, the floors,
We plant the studding, the lath, the doors,
The beams and siding, all the parts that be;
We plant the house when we plant the tree,
We plant the barrel, the box, the crate;
In which to ship all sorts of freight.
What do we plant when we plant a tree?
A thousand things that we daily see,
We plant the spire that out-towers the crag,
We plant the staff for our country's flag;
We plant the shade from the hot sun free,
We plant all these when we plant the tree.
poem by Henry Abbey
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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