Everything I Am
Everything I am
I am everything
The tree blowing in the wind
The gravel underfoot
The flowers you smell
The colours you see
I am the green grass below your feet
And the blue sky above your head
The warm, brown dirt you rely on
And the air you breathe from the atmosphere
I was born millions of years ago
And yesterday
Within a second and a decade
The world which you use
I am the air you pollute
The animals you slaughter
I am the grass that you cut
And the hills you blow holes in
I am the cliffs you jump off of
The water you drink
The fish that you drown
The deer you shoot
I am the wood that you burn
The oil you use to create energy
The Sun that provides you with warmth
The insects you burn for fun
I am an entity
A being
Yet considered nothing
With no thoughts or feelings
I provide lilfe
Yet I'm considered lifeless
I am one of a kind
Yet treated as an expendable
Everything I am
I am everything
What am I?
Life.
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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Related quotes
In some fields of grass under the hills (sestina)
This afternoon the peaks throw a big shade
with the black cliffs shining up on the hills,
while we lay together in the long grass,
I look in your eyes that are amber-green
while under my head there is a small stone
and you smile at me like the prettiest lady.
I had once known another charming lady;
that part of my life is now left in shade,
bad churchmen were casting stone upon stone,
while I had to flee from them to the hills
to pastures were everything is green
to find the Lord in divine fields of grass.
Under your head there is a crown of grass
and your mother is a gracious, kind lady,
around us everything is lovely green
while we are still resting in the cool shade,
we are softly chatting about life’s hills,
about walls of very hard granite stone.
Your eyes are much brighter than emerald stone
while all of your words are softer than grass,
reaching higher and beyond all the hills,
the high mountain which is dangerous lady,
while from our pain nothing gives any shade,
nowhere is a place of rest that is green.
Your summer dress is lovely, is bright green,
suddenly all our ails have turned to stone
I follow you further; see your small shade,
I am seen as one that woos any lady,
we walk past some flowers growing in grass,
climbing up higher into the foothills.
Bright streams are splashing down some of the hills,
with water transparent, sometimes cold and green,
love and lust burns like in a youthful lady
while I at that moment feel cold as stone,
we notice a deer feeding on lone grass
while our garments lie under a tree’s shade.
Far into the hills you want love till dusk’s shade,
where you peep like some green moss from the grass,
are tossing me with a stone like no lady.
poem by Gert Strydom
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60's Dream
The grass glowed with light,
effervescent green bouncing,
under the blue,
radiant air flowing around,
the hot sun warms my skin,
Wild energy surrounds me,
sparks fly about, insects sing with their burst of life,
so short
Grey skies arrive but there is no doom,
the sun warms the grey and there is light,
the birds still sing,
the grass is still green,
energy surrounds all who breathe,
earth bound we are planetary creatures
jump in to the air and feel the wind,
against your skin,
you are so alive,
under the the sun,
you are warm, heated, loved,
smiling, smiling with the sun god
poem by Sara Winters
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Rain Drops
Here comes the grey clouds
rolling in,
Spreading rain all over the
town.
Rain drops help to moisten
the earth's beautiful green
grass.
Sidewalks once dusty are
washed and cleaned.
Rivers and lakes are given
plenty more water.
Fishes swim around happy
beneath the rain drops,
creating millions of ripples
upon the water.
Flowers and plants no longer
Thirst,
Even trees and bushes seem
to dance after a good drink
of water,
Animals get their fill of
water too.
Just Like a shower,
Rain drops clean and
cleanse everything,
Leaving the earth refreshed
and renewed.
After the storm has passed,
The sun shines spreading its
warmth.
Rain drops that are left behind
on Flowers, plants, trees and
grass,
It is like heaven for many insects
to fill their thirsty little
mouths.
Without clouds we would have no
rain drops,
Without rain drops everything would
never be the same.
poem by Derek James
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Green Planet
Green Planet
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted July 17 2008
At one time our planet was colorful as lush with plants even flowers
And towering trees beautiful I can see,
The planet was filled with animals even birds more species that was plentiful
While the mammals and fish filled the oceans even waters majestic,
The oceans with lakes even rivers as the waters where aqua or
Torques blue lovely green was a fantasy.
Now our planet is filled with tons trash on the streets even
At the garbage dumps filled to the top to no end,
The planet not colorful or lush with plants even flowers
And towering trees it becoming a waste land of dirt and mud,
Even homes plus businesses filled with humans to see
The animals even birds is getting scarce means no food or wildlife,
While the mammals and fish are finding up dead in the waters
Or land means no food or sea life.
The oceans with lakes even rivers as the waters are brown,
Or nasty green will be unsafe to drink this is not a fantasy.
We should help the planet even ourselves by recycling
bottles, paper, cardboard, cans even glass in recycling centers,
Make green homes by using reused materials granite, tiles, wood,
Bottles, paper, cardboard, cans even glass solar tubes, & solar energy
Plus solar water, everything energy officiant,
The cars we use should be hydrogen, solar, electric or hybrid
So go green not brown if we keep what we are doing we are all dead!
poem by Lori Triggs
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Green and blue
Green and blue
First-named of colours believe these two.
They first of colours by men were seen
This grass colour, tree colour,
Sky colour, sea colour,
Magic-named, mystic-souled, blue and green.
Later came
Small subtle colours like tongues of flame,
Small jewel colours for treasure trove,
Not fruit colour, flower colour,
Cloud colour, shower colour,
But purple, amethyst, violet and mauve.
These remain,
Two broad fair colours for our larger gain
Stretched underfoot or spreading wide on high,
Green beech colour, vine colour,
Gum colour, pine colour,
Blue of the noonday and the moonlit sky.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Sestina
I have come, alas, to the great circle of shadow,
to the short day and to the whitening hills,
when the colour is all lost from the grass,
though my desire will not lose its green,
so rooted is it in this hardest stone,
that speaks and feels as though it were a woman.
And likewise this heaven-born woman
stays frozen, like the snow in shadow,
and is unmoved, or moved like a stone,
by the sweet season that warms all the hills,
and makes them alter from pure white to green,
so as to clothe them with the flowers and grass.
When her head wears a crown of grass
she draws the mind from any other woman,
because she blends her gold hair with the green
so well that Amor lingers in their shadow,
he who fastens me in these low hills,
more certainly than lime fastens stone.
Her beauty has more virtue than rare stone.
The wound she gives cannot be healed with grass,
since I have travelled, through the plains and hills,
to find my release from such a woman,
yet from her light had never a shadow
thrown on me, by hill, wall, or leaves’ green.
I have seen her walk all dressed in green,
so formed she would have sparked love in a stone,
that love I bear for her very shadow,
so that I wished her, in those fields of grass,
as much in love as ever yet was woman,
closed around by all the highest hills.
The rivers will flow upwards to the hills
before this wood, that is so soft and green,
takes fire, as might ever lovely woman,
for me, who would choose to sleep on stone,
all my life, and go eating grass,
only to gaze at where her clothes cast shadow.
Whenever the hills cast blackest shadow,
with her sweet green, the lovely woman
hides it, as a man hides stone in grass.
poem by Dante Alighieri
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My Drug Dealer
Today-
I asked myself.
Why are the oak tree’s purple?
And the grass blue?
Why is the sky green?
And the leaves hot pink?
Why is that gravel red?
And the rocks of that garden yellow?
Then I thought
and thought over again
a million times
and realized...
I’m high.
I’m up higher than the orange clouds in the green sky
My heart is as bright as the rocks of that garden
My thoughts are as eccentric as the hot pink color of the leaves
that fell from the purple tree
My eyelashes flutter flirtatiously like the way the wind
blows the blue blades of grass around.
Love is a drug,
and I’m high-
You happen to be my dealer.
poem by Breanna Schwartz
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Wrong Number
Lime green lime green and tangerine
Are the sickly sweet colours of the snakes im seeing
Lime green and tangerine
Are the sickly sweet colours of the devil in my dreams
Lime green lime green and tangerine
Are the sickly sweet colours of the snakes im seeing
Lime green and tangerine
Are the sickly sweet colours of the devil in my dreams
It gets to friday and i give you a call
"you know im getting kind of worried
No she doesnt seem herself at all...
Lime green and a sickly kind of orange
I've never seen her like this before..."
I had the best laid plans this side of america
Started out in church and finished with angelica
Red and blue soul with a snow white smile
"can you dig it?"
I had the best laid plans this side of america
Started out in church and finished with angelica
And now i dig in the dirt
And i'm down here for a while...
You've got to make up your mind and make it soon
Is there room in your life
For one more trip to the moon?
Is there room in your life
For one more?
Burn red burn red red and gold
Are the deep dark colours of the snakes i hold
Burn red burn red and gold
Are the deep dark colours of the devil at home
"she pulls me down just as i'm trying to hide
Grabs me by the hair and drags me outside
And starts digging in the dirt...
For a not so early bird it's the only way
For her to get the worm..."
I had the best laid plans this side of america
Started out in church and finished with angelica
Red and blue soul with a snow white smile
"can you dig it?"
I had the best laid plans this side of america
Started out in church and finished with angelica
Red and blue soul with a snow white smile
"can you dig it?"
And now i dig in the dirt
And i'll be down here for a while...
"hello? are you still there?"
"hello? are you still there?"
...and much too late...
"sorry, wrong number
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Under The Grass
I look out at you
over the open blue sky
growing dark
when the sun
like an orange
what a ball
it glows red
and turning to you
saying i say
to you
i do not know
the sea
today
how the wind blows
will it blow
for me to speak
it says
and saying you say
as you want
me to say and we stay
salty water
and blowing the wind
blows as it must
my thoughts as the waves
are as small as the fish
swimming about
in between our toes
and swimming they swim
under the grass
as the waves
pull one back out
deep too sea.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Can’t Breathe This Greed Industrialization
atmosphere
provide
oxygen
atmosphere
provide
carbon dioxide
atmosphere provide
for plants animals
seal in an ecosystem
atmosphere
guardian part
of water cycle
complex interactions
elements in atmosphere
without atmosphere
there would
be possible
no life at all
give me a little
of my God given air
of my God created air
give me a little
so i may breathe in renewed
complex wonder of creation
pollution sticks in my throat
burns eyes throat burns
mankind is burning creation
can’t breathe this
greed
industrialization
give
me less greenhouse
gases
earth pump
as God created
engineered
give me
a little
clean air
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Not Able To Recall Each Word Anymore...
yes, we burn all the leaves
we do not really like to see the ashes on the ground
so we summon the rain
to spread the foul smell of the dead
thin
and unrecognizable and we ask the grass
to spread
as quickly as possible
to cover the tracks
and then that summer what we see
we like to see
green grass, blue sky, fresh air
flying birds, fluttering green butterflies
we love those conversations
though we do not recall each word anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grass
The world is all one smother of grass,
Waves of it rolling deep and green,
Clothing the paddocks’ gentle slope,
Laughing the brown tree-trunks between.
And some are praising the brilliant flowers,
The beauty of foliage as they pass,
But I am drinking its glory in
And thanking the Lord for grass, for grass!
The air is a-murmur with rippling sound
From jubilant creeks long fed with rain,
Singing of drought and travail past
And a bounteous earth drown young again-
An earth that is telling its thankfulness
With passionate rapture too deep for words
In acres and acres of waving grass,
Haven of promise to starving herds.
There’s a tangle of bloom in its moist green shade,
Mottled yam-flowers and gentians blue,
Small white stars that are honey sweet,
And nodding bluebells all drenched with dew.
And oh! The breath of its incense rare
As the summer breezes over it pass,
My heart is thrilling with voiceless prayer
And thanking the Giver of things for grass.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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A Muse From The Forest
The white gold,
The black gold,
The red gold,
The yellow gold,
'Obroni-Nephew' is about to teach you all;
Like the very call of a muse from the forest.
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects;
The very call from the forest with a view but,
Do you like to be fed with crocodile meat?
The lizard meat,
The lion meat,
The tiger meat,
The snake meat,
The elephant meat,
Life is like that for many who eat everything;
The Chinese eat all animals, fish and insects.
Life is like a visit to the biggest cemetery on earth,
Do you like to be fed with cockroaches?
Whatever we eat today,
We will be burried one day.
Of the brown gold,
Of the orange gold,
Of the green gold,
Of the blue gold,
The Chinese eat all meat, fish and insects.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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Sonnet: The Poor Lamb
I eat the grass that grows in the meadow;
I jump and play with joy after a drink;
I walk back home when comes the Eve’s shadow;
Death’s shadow lurks on me always, I think.
Warm clothes men make with my hide for winter;
My wool keeps them so warm in intense cold;
They walk me to the house where they slaughter,
And no one cares if I am young or old.
I say ‘baa-baa’ to call my dear mother;
I cry ‘baa-baa’ when I feed on the grass;
I say ‘baa-baa’ when ’tis rainy weather;
I cry ‘baa-baa’ seeing my master’s lass.
When I am born to die, giving them meat,
Why torture ’fore you earthlings can me eat?
poem by John Celes
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Where The Blacktop Ends
Gonna kick off my shoes
And run in bare feet
Where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet
Goin' back to the well gonna visit old friends
And feed my soul where the blacktop ends
I'm lookin' down the barrel of Friday night
Ridin' on a river of freeway lights
Goodbye city I'm country bound
'Til Monday rolls around
Gonna kick off my shoes
And run in bare feet
Where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet
Goin' back to the well gonna visit old friends
And feed my soul where the blacktop ends
Workin' in the grind is an uphill road
Punchin' that clock and carryin' that load
I bust it all week and then I'm free
The weekend belongs to me
Gonna kick off my shoes
And run in bare feet
Where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet
Goin' back to the well gonna visit old friends
And feed my soul where the blacktop ends
Give me some fresh air give me that farm
Give me some time with you in my arms
Far away from the hustle and the pressure and the noise
Gonna kick off my shoes
And run in bare feet
Where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet
Goin' back to the well gonna visit old friends
And feed my soul, you betcha
Gonna kick off my shoes
And run in bare feet
Where the grass and the dirt and the gravel all meet
Goin' back to the well gonna visit old friends
And feed my soul where the blacktop ends
Where the blacktop ends
Where the blacktop ends
Where the blacktop ends
song performed by by Keith Urban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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December
December lies nice and hot in my garden,
while the rays of the summer sun
shines endearing over my world.
The fragrances of flowers
rise in vapours all around the house
and everywhere,
there are the most beautiful colours
of unfolding flowers.
The green grass
jump almost knee high,
out of gladness to the summer rain.
In the big old Jacaranda tree
doves sit and peer at the wonderful world,
while they coo a joyful song.
The power of summer
is to be seen everywhere
and the day washes over me,
in the shadow
of the old pepper tree.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Mower's Song
My Mind was once the true survey
Of all these Medows fresh and gay;
And in the greenness of the Grass
Did see its Hopes as in a Glass;
When Juliana came, and she
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.
But these, while I with Sorrow pine,
Grew more luxuriant still and fine;
That not one Blade of Grass you spy'd,
But had a Flower on either side;
When Juliana came, and She
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.
Unthankful Meadows, could you so
A fellowship so true forego,
And in your gawdy May-games meet,
While I lay trodden under feet?
When Juliana came , and She
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.
But what you in Compassion ought,
Shall now by my Revenge be wrought:
And Flow'rs, and Grass, and I and all,
Will in one common Ruine fall.
For Juliana comes, and She
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.
And thus, ye Meadows, which have been
Companions of my thoughts more green,
Shall now the Heraldry become
With which I shall adorn my Tomb;
For Juliana comes, and She
What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.
poem by Andrew Marvell
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The Hills That Surround A City
There are hills that surround a city,
I do not know if everyone loves these hills as I do,
From a child to an adult, I traveled the roads of these hills,
Through all seasons these hills are inviting, to a city dweller,
There are hills that surround a city,
In summer these hills can be dangerous,
Bush fires, the enemy of all,
But a friend at times,
Trees and plants re-shoot after bush fires,
Foe to animals and residents,
Cool nights, bring summer breezes to these hills,
Autumn colours surround the hills,
And bring the city dweller to visit,
Colours line the ever winding roadways,
Magical colours along the roadways,
Breathtaking trees, so tall,
Falling leaves line the winding roadways,
Around the hills that surround a city,
Log fires creating smoke from chimneys, dot the landscapes,
During winter,
Winter rains flushes the creeks and rivers,
Throughout the hills that surround a city,
Frosts, fog create an old world atmosphere,
Don't forget your scarf, beanie's, or gloves,
It is cold in these hills,
Spring, the hills are coming alive,
Magical gardens, on display,
Watch for the colourful birds, that come alive,
There is still a chill in the air,
Grab a bit of sunshine, feel the warmth,
There is another world in these hills,
A historical world, for those who wish to visit,
The Adelaide hills surround the city,
Many abandon the city, for the day,
Or a weekend retreat,
The many winding roads amongst the Adelaide hills,
Will take you many places,
I have traveled these roads all my life,
Now I am finding many new roads to travel,
Around these hills that surround a city.
poem by Batibchar Mocculta
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Journey With Animals
Child: Lion, Lion, do you know
Where is your den?
Lion: Yes, I know
My den is straight to the jungle
Child: Deer, Deer, what you
Eat for dinner?
Deer: I eat grass,
Green grass
Child: Rabbit, Rabbit,
What do you do?
Rabbit: I jump and jump
Till my house reach
Child: Turtle, Turtle, when enemy comes
What you will do?
Turtle: I will keep my head
Inside the shell
Child: Thank you animal friends
For answering my questions.
--------
By: Sansita Ramachandran
poem by Sansita Ramachandran
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