Poem (‘In The Stump of The Old Tree...’)
In the stump of the old tree, where the heart has rotted out, there is a hole the length of a man’s arm, and a dank pool at the bottom of it where the rain gathers, and the old leaves turn into lacy skeletons. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees, where the hearts have rotted out, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and dank pools at the bottom where the rain gathers and old leaves turn to lace, and the beak of a dead bird gapes like a trap. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees with rotten hearts, where the rain gathers and the laced leaves and the dead bird like a trap, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and in every crevice of the rotten wood grow weasel’s eyes like molluscs, their lids open and shut with the tide. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees where the rain gathers and the trapped leaves and the beak and the laced weasel’s eyes, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and at the bottom a sodden bible written in the language of rooks. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees where the hearts have rotted out there are holes the length of a man’s arm where the weasels are trapped and the letters of the rook language are laced on the sodden leaves, and at the bottom there is a man’s arm. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees where the hearts have rotted out there are deep holes and dank pools where the rain gathers, and if you ever put your hand down to see, you can wipe it in the sharp grass till it bleeds, but you’ll never want to eat with it again.
Contemporary Poetry and Prose, 7 (Nov. 1936), 129.
poem by Hugh Sykes Davies
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Circle
Inside the circle, the one which burns holes into holes -
I walk around and around -
I feel cold in the warmth of ice -
I am heated by the cold which flames -
The fire of my mind -
Understand what was lost -
Understood what was found -
Blood which drips off my wrists -
Profoundly annoyed by the sound -
Pain gathers out of a cloud -
Whispers of a knife strapped to my hand -
I dare not to look down -
I feel the rain on my feet -
Vertigo signals my defeat -
I want to see black inside what is displayed -
What I feel is the arms which envelopes my soul -
She is screaming fumes -
She wants me to step in grey -
I refuse -
But I do as she say
poem by Unic Cjonr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rain... Rain... Rain...!
Rain on tinned roof
Rain on concrete
Rain soaking into sands
Rain on soft earth
Rain on metal road
Rain on windscreen
Rain falling into the sea
Rain in the river
Rain on flowers
Rain on leaves
Rain under trees
Rain on hills
Rain on my skin…
Each with its own unique raga
Reverberates across the sky
On to the earth…
05aug2010
10.30hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0018 Man Raking Leaves (re Jim Morrison lyric)
The sound of wooden rake scratching concrete.
walk nearer - rustle of dry leaves.
This, the beginning of a Japanese haiku
or maybe a Japanese film -
dry sound first, then rake, then leaves, then man -
that evokes autumn
too near the heart
to need a title
the sound stops. silence. man leans on rake.
then match strikes, there's almost yes an echo
from the dry leaves not yet fallen from the trees
in the forest all around.
then the first tickle in the nostrils
of burning leaves which
the two-year old scrunching through the trees
hand in hand with older sister
will remember all his life
like the silence between
two lines of a haiku or
the silence of the moment when the seasons turn.
and who can say
what the golden-orange-yellow-brown trees
slowly stripping in a rustle as of silken nightgown
to the tune of, more a whisper than a breeze -
what the trees feel
as the incense of their, their, burning leaves
steals like a last caress
for each such faithful
lover?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Orange Tree
(after T.T. Cloete)
Where it stands drawing liquid from the earth,
through a system of roots, branches and leaves
while it gathers the sun, rain and wind
it forms fruit with a sour-sweet taste
that is symmetrical pressed into a membrane
of which the smell and taste catches you
when it breaks open in your hand as slices
as if a new wonder hangs around it.
[Reference: 'Lemoenboom' (Orange tree) by T.T. Cloete.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When The Leaves Come Falling Down
I saw you standing with the wind and the rain in your face
And you were thinking bout the wisdom of the leaves and their grace
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
And at night the moon is shining on a clear, cloudless sky
And when the evening shadows fall Ill be there by your side
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place beside the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space before the twilight and the dawn
Oh, the last time I saw paris in the streets, in the rain
And as I walk along the boulevards with you, once again
And the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place between the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space between the twilight and the dawn
And as Im looking at the colour of the leaves, in your hand
As were listening to chet baker on the beach, in the sand
When the leaves come falling down,
Woe in september, when the leaves come falling down
Oh when the leaves come falling down
Yeah in september when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falting down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
And So Am I To You
drought is here
river beds are drying
plants are wilting
trees are shedding off all leaves
they all look like
skeletons and skulls
there are dusts everywhere
roaming clinging leaving
blown by the strong winds
from the desert
please make the rain
bursting
water the earth
cracking
fill in the gaps
and the holes
shower this thirst
fill this hunger
give back life....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Summer Rain Came Suddenly
Summer rain came suddenly
and you and she
had just got off the school bus
and had to run for shelter
and so entered the wood
and settled beneath some trees
which at least kept off
some of the rain
and as you both stood there
looking about the woodland
and listening to the rain
fighting its way through
the overhead branches and leaves
smelling the rain smell
hearing the sound
of rain falling
she said suddenly
That was unexpected
one minute the sun's shining
the next the downpour
and she turned
and looked at you
raindrops falling down
from her hair onto
the side of her nose
and sitting there
for a few moments
then sliding down
and moving along
her cheek
and you wiped
the drops off
with the end of your finger
and she took your finger
and mouthed it
and licked off the rain
and held your finger
in her hand
and said laughing
That was my raindropp
and you saw
how her lips parted
and in such a way
that you sensed
an inner explosion
of what you thought of
as love and said
Rain is rain
it's got its own smell
and touch
and feel
and she moved her lips
to your finger
and licked it once more
and you laughed
and felt your heart leap inside
and she said
releasing your finger
Love is love
something like rain
something you feel
and sense and know
and she kissed you and said
Mum' ll wonder where I am
we'd better go
and moving out
from beneath the trees
you ran off together
into the falling rain
all over again.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Rain Is Like A Man
the rain this early morning
has an accompanying wind
i look at them by the window
my inner world divided by a thick glass
the trees are swaying and some leaves
begin to fall like some kind of a dance
the rain like a man carries the wind
on his arms and the wind leans down
i catch a glimpse of how they passionately kiss
it is sad and lonely and then the rain stops
the morning sun comes and the leaves
are at the feet of the trees kind of wet with tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
May Day
A delicate fabric of bird song
Floats in the air,
The smell of wet wild earth
Is everywhere.
Red small leaves of the maple
Are clenched like a hand,
Like girls at their first communion
The pear trees stand.
Oh I must pass nothing by
Without loving it much,
The raindrop try with my lips,
The grass with my touch;
For how can I be sure
I shall see again
The world on the first of May
Shining after the rain?
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Journey Back To Ourselves
as i stare at the
rain
i remember
trees
transparent and
cold
trees without
leaves
i imagine
twigs
or roots or
trunks
they are never
there
no matter how
trees are tears
without leaves
without roots
with so much
salt in each
and then you
touch the waves
of the imaginary
sea and then
your journey back
to you begins
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Round The Trees We Run
Wild flowers we pick
Butterflies, so colorful we chase
Not a thorn we fear would prick
Time in space not afraid to loose
For all is bare, and flower-juice we lick
You giggle, your cheek, my hand I place
Swallows, Gazelles, and Dick-dick
Marvell and stare, and make for glories
Grass, green and soft, a desire to pick
Tree leaves, they sway and dance
Round the trees we run, loose stumps I kick
My love, fruits we pick, heaven the place!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When we Indians kill meat, we eat it all up. When we dig roots, we make little holes. When we build houses, we make little holes. When we burn grass for grasshoppers, we don't ruin things. We shake down acorns and pine nuts. We don't chop down the trees. We only use dead wood.
My Silence Shall Be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
84
my silence shall be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rain, Rain, Rain!
Rain, rain, rain
As kids, by then
We played in pools
And chased butterflies
Beautiful were flowers
Rain, rain, rain
Splish, splash, splosh
Warming is my heart, rain
This night, all come, sleepiness
Your song. My lullaby, rain
Rain, rain, rain
Happy kids and butterflies
Rain
Warm hearts and lullabies
Rain, rain, rain.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Among the Trees
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for the one my heart calls for
I wonder lost among the trees
I see your light amongst the dark
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is brighter then the rest
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is out of my reach
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light comes closer
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is bright like an angel from the sky
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light fades away and leaves me alone
I wonder lost among the trees
Without a hand to guide the way
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for my guiding light
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost, alone
I wonder afraid of the world
Around me I look for the one
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost and alone forever...................................
poem by kelly Martini
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shall She Throw Then The Apple Of Discord?
out there is the calm
and the harmony of the leaves
and the grass
the silence of the ants and
the privacy of the worms
she does not like this
she needs the chaos to divert the
lulling ennui
that will soon numb and kill her
and so she climbs the only living
tree at the center of this paradise
gets the only apple
that she throws under the trees
beside the grass and flowers
and then the discord starts to unfold
now she watches all of them in their
domestic wars
the trees shake the leaves
and the worms are eating the barks
and the ants are building their empires
on sands
simply because they have turned
the blind eye the deaf ear
the gaps of communication bore
the holes of pandemonium
she sits and weaves herself a bandanna
now she is ready to go
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Y - hole- 9+2=11
Lucky at this hole.
Watchout - they steal holes.
WHO-WHO-WHO
Not them - them.
Flowing sands-sands-sands and man.
Catch infinite vibes - MAN.
HOLES-HOLES-HOLES
Gone hole insane, hole insane - PAINS.
Peephole, porthole, volcano hole.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
Sells nothing - makes money - SMART.
HOLES FOR SALE
LUCKY, , , bought a hole....SMART.
Donut holes-Bagel holes - *FOR SALE*.
Never thought about holes before.
LUCKY, , , at the, , , , ,11 hole.
LUCKY-LUCKY-LUCKY - 'knows'.
HOLES FOR SALE - {sale day}
SALE DAY - SALE DAY - SALE DAY
HOLES FOR SALE
2/27/2009 Joe Poewhit
JESUS SAVES
poem by Joe Poewhit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Holes
There's three in the wall from those pictures in the closet
Two in the bedroom from that night I lost it
One deep inside me determined to stay
They don't get any bigger but they don't go away
Holes in and around me I keep falling back into
Holes digging its around me
God knows what I'm gonna do
To fill in these holes left by you
Left by you
I pour drink after drink but nothing hit bottom
I've been on my knees admitted my problem
The love that we made still barely an echo
I'll try anything in these vacant hollow
Holes in and around me I keep falling back into
Holes digging its around me
God knows what I'm gonna do
To fill in these holes left by you
Left by you
There's two through my hands and one through my feet
From this cross that I bare to the day that I see
Its guilt and its blame its shame and its love
song performed by by Rascal Flatts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Melancholy Is Your Melancholy
and so at the end
we rediscover that my
melancholy
is your melancholy too
we cannot describe
how deep the roots are
and how rotten
the trees
we were counting the
leaves falling
we want to measure
the length and weight
of the heaps
i do not bother myself
now
we have become so
different
like crisscrossing
lines
with endpoints
crazy somewhere
not wanting any
meeting
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!