Short term fixes create problems
A policy of slash and burn
may bring a small but quick return
but it’s the worst of strategies.
Thin soil denuded of its trees.
Cannot retain the falling rain
and soon becomes an arid plain
The soil dried out and blown away,
a man made desert here to stay
It seems man cannot understand
He’s just a steward of the land.
If nature can replace the trees
the process will take centuries.
Man has no choice but to move on
another swathe of forest gone.
26-Apr-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Slash and Burn
Devastation, desolation
uncontrolled deforestation.
A policy of slash and burn.
What men destroy cannot return.
What man despoils he can’t replace.
Though where he’s been he leaves a trace
Vast tracts of semi desert ground
where very little life is found.
Undoes the work of centuries
Creates a wound that will not heal
When he cuts down the forest trees
There is no way he can appeal
Dame nature has the final say
he has sinned and he must pay.
9-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Stewards of Destruction
The bird was routed from its nest
by the growl of a tractor’s roar.
Slash and burn, closer it came,
a tank in Mankind’s war.
The macaw soon was homeless
as its tree was knocked to earth.
Slash and burn, some peasants came
And hacked for all their worth
Elsewhere too, the Forest bears
brute evidence of man.
Slash and burn, the trees are gone
Crops planted there by hand.
Some miracle medicinals
Are forever lost down there
Slash and burn, fates’ wheel turns
Homo “sapiens” doesn’t care.
The habitats are dying
Their inhabitants are too.
Slash and burn, will man cause
his own extinction too?
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Summer's Wind
Be weary, Lord of the summer wind,
Lord of the heat that you blow in,
Away with flowers, land and trees,
To stay them not, least all the trees.
Listen to this, all that I say,
Our land does die, and drift away.
Our living born upon the wind,
All of ours, and those of friends.
So we called upon the leave-filled wind,
The autumn one, of which were friends.
This wind of cool and gentle hand,
Not like the wind that stole our land.
And the heat did melt into the leaves,
And turned them colors from the trees.
Then the leave-filled wind bore them away,
And upon the land, they came to stay.
And stayed them there, till land-hard cold,
And then the land, the leaves they stole.
And after the harsh cold wind had blown,
And living soil again was sown,
Summer's wind came again to prey,
Upon our lands, most every day.
But our living land, the leaves did save,
And the summer's wind did blow away,
Never to re-live, the seasons day.
The cool soft wind now blows so free,
Upon the land, and through the trees.
All through the people, and over me.
poem by Sandra Osborne
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A Prediction....
as usual we know about it as
hills know its trees
as grass knows its hoppers
and soil
but we don't talk about it
we dislike storms
it is horrible to see uprooted trees
and blown away houses
we leave things as they are
there is no ripeness yet
but the way you withhold love
and hide second thoughts
very give the signal of the coming days
a desert shall produce its own sandstorm
you prepare the door
i too, keep the windows.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Back To An Old Place
it is summer
scorching summer
season creeping,
grasses are wilting
trees are shedding of
their last leaves,
what i see are bones
of trees,
skeletons of
branches,
the dry wind keeps
blowing the leaves
away,
what i have is this
bald surrounding
emptied of their
essence
beyond me are
brown mountains
vultures are
in the skies
eying for
death as prey
i sit upon a rock
the only rock
left here
i have no cover on
my head
i am half naked
i have no one to talk
to,
they have left this
arid place
a long time ago
i am back
i am telling the
sand soil,
i have something
to write and
tell the world
about it
it is summer
in this vast desert
a long time ago
this was ours
and the trees are green
grasses verdant
butterflies flutter
and innocently
land on our
hands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Son Of The Soil
Black, strong tatooed by the sun.
He toils and never tires.
He is the son of the soil.
Forget all these fake wana be's! You see today
wanting to be everything they see on tv.
he is the Son of the soil, raised up in the language of the ancetrals.
Taught to hunter and respect the traditions.
Raised up in the secret sacred things of the land.
Spilt his blood in the soil at the riverside at the age of 13.
He knew where his destiny lay at the age of 16.
Had his first encounter at 18.
She was a true daughter of the soil breed well by the women of the land.
Son of the soil taught by the elders the ways of women.
Son of the soil, taught by nature the way to survive.
Son of the soil, taught to endure by the woman he shares his purity with.
Son of the soil,
arise and toil for your destiny calls.
Toil to protect the weak,
to safeguard the rites,
to up root all menace and vallians from the west.
Son of the soil its your time to stand and be heard.
poem by Tigana Chileshe
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This Africa
Tears of slavery upon the soil of africa,
turning our day into night and our night into terror with pain,
this africa child needs the soil of freedom,
this soil needs trees of justice,
this trees needs winds of glory,
this winds needs favour of direction,
this direction brings harmony.
poem by Senator alufalism
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Soil Is A Soul Of Life
Soil what is soil Lord?
soil is life seed
soil is a living organism
soil is a loom
from which you were made
dust you were dust you will be
Soil what is soil Scientist?
soil is a critical
part
of an ecosystem
soil provides
important nutrients
for plants in
an ecosystem
soil helps
anchor
plants
to keep
plants
in place
soil absorbs
holds water
for plants
soil absorbs
holds water
for animals
lakes rivers
to use
soil provides
a home
for many species
lots of living
organisms
soil
regenerates life
dust you were dust you will be
poem by Terence George Craddock
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SONNET: Wild Trees
Look how the trees grow in the wilderness!
The Rain and Sun tend to their growing needs;
No man can put the tree’s growth in harness;
‘Tis clothed by verdure leaves, flow’rs, fruits with seeds.
Look how the Wind spreads wide the seeds in soil!
How fast they sprout into seedlings with Rain;
Some go awaste but most grow without toil;
Alas! Man thinks wild trees are just a bane.
Yet, every tree that God had made has use;
And every living creature God made fine;
‘Tis left to man, his faculties to use;
‘Tis left to him to keep his shoes in shine.
Some things we see, we may not understand;
God’s creation is something very grand.
poem by John Celes
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The Hiding Place Of Sadness
sadness when kept alone by you
knows a place where to hide
it is like an arid soil at noon
when temperatures are high
and then an unexpected rain
falls
what you see is this quick
rising of hot air
to the sky
and then the sun smiles at you
as though nothing happened.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shield Bugs
I was assiduous
organizing my collection.
Had you not been told
what they were,
you might have thought
they were trees and stars,
or an orchard,
a small one of nine large trees,
three to a row,
or a large one of forty-five small conical trees
in nine groups of five,
three to a row,
or, taking part in a contest
to find the largest possible number of trees,
you could add the two together
and have fifty four
and think you had them all.
Some bright spark,
a contestant,
got the idea to replace the lot with wind turbines.
Someone was sure the turbines had been there
before the shield bugs.
Another, threw theory into chaos:
while agreeing that
a tree can be made of stars,
he also asserted,
a star can be made of trees!
Within a steady state of coexistence
each possibility pulsed
in and out of sense.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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No Tree Can Stand Tall Without Roots Spread!
Every seed sends roots first,
Finding for soil and ground
where it can stand firm and tall,
stand firm and tall if roots go
deep,
Spread wide to find The sap! single cell that carry life,
Give life to cells and tissues,
Shoot, barks, branches and
leaves,
feed the leaves exposing leaves
to light, Visible tree stands on exposed
roots, not roots visible, Man made boundaries, fence and
compound,
Can't prevent or limit roots or
branches,
Sometimes absorbing soil here,
Branch will extent to neighbouring house,
How one can limit the nature,
or confine growing tree to
narrow circle drawn by man?
So is every life on Earth!
Mankind is like forest of different trees,
Yet all roots of autotrophic trees
deep in the soil,
Only parasitic have those roots,
pierce other tree's heart! Dive deep into yourself,
O man! Can you survive without
Your roots?
know how you are here,
Is it the mortal parent brought
you here, Or your fate,
Only be grateful to their love and
care forever!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Some people are afraid to show their true colors
i am not
i don't hide
i have nothing to hide
i am what i am
i am brown, i am a Filipino,
and I am not afraid, I am what i am, i show who and what i am, and i take responsibitity
for what i am
for what i write for what i do for what i say
mountains do not hide, how can they? the seas keep their bodies in the open
their waves blown by the air, for how can they be what they are when they are in hiding?
the trees and the plains, the valleys and the hills, what can they be if they are in hiding? shall you see a vast desert of them then?
the air, if only they have that nature to be seen, they could have assumed such forms that you see, they too are happy to be seen so that you may believe in them,
for in truth, those true and giving do no hide, and if you cannot see them,
they always try,
in some conceivable manifestations,
in some shapes, colors and forms
like some leaves falling when the wind passes by,
like some trees bending, like some pieces of paper blown to the other end.
why are you in hiding?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Limbo Leaf
Mr.Leaf, Lays still on the
Misty Soil has
A story to narrate
A song to sing
A poem to recite
Of the plants, of the trees
Of the herbs and
Of the shrubs...
Mr.Leaf began...
Past went apart; Leaving me alone
Present presented tears; For me to wipe out
Future away from nature; To turn me to a corpse
Tear droplets sat on leaf
Which appeared alike dewdrops
The half dead leaf sheds tears
Yes! A pinch of life
Stays awake
In this pale & yellow leaf
Striving to say more
Mr.Leaf realised: -
Time to leave the plant
Time to accompany the land
Time to dissolve in the soil
It flew away
With the rythm of the wind
Dancing & dazzling
To the blacky-rocky land
There it lies cold & still
Waiting to be vanished
Down the soil pores.
poem by Mariya M. Jos
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Forest For The Trees
When youre a young man, down and out
You really need someone to help you out
It looks like life or death is your only choice
Its really hard to see
The forest for the trees
The forest for the trees
And when you get angry and everythings black or white
You should know that it isnt that simple, no ones always right
You know that youre life it worth living
You gotta start taking if no one else is giving
And if youre not afraid to open your eyes
You may be pleasantly surprised
Thigs are never as bad as they seem
You just gotta learn to see
The forest for the trees
So if you need somebody, tell them please
If you want someone, get up off your knees
Things are never as bad as they seem
You just gotta learn to see
The forest for the trees
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Storm Lodge
comes
the wind gently
muted the space, run through
and through as it wrestles
the nature strength
lose steam
blogs the esteem,
even the train speed counter the
wind, find the golden rain
that stops the plane
for even the brave wants
to be a friend
see how the storm
live in the
plain, many have found a shelter
dislodge the green,
looks the rain never stop to clean the
pavement, just as time vanish all
the grain
please droplets of rain
come no more,
I am gone, before you'll left my land,
see dismay in
my face, the teary eyes
left in vain, even if you’re away the plain
will pay
oh! little sweet fertile
soil you have
grown, yet! sad for the rain
till and devour your land to the
ground...
poem by Antonio Liao
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Poet And Woman
Woman, you are incomplete without poet,
Poet, you are also imperfect without woman.
The soil is incomple without the root of trees,
The sky is incomple without the clouds,
stars or the shining Moon,
The river is dead without the dancing of waves,
And, the poet's heart is a desert without a woman's love.
The forest is incomplete without the wild animals,
The sun is lost in darkness without its light,
The trees are but a row of emptiness-
without the chirping of the birds,
And, a woman is but half without a poet's imagination.
poem by Nazmul Haque
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The USDA And Trichinella Worms
At the USDA
they don't care
how trichinella worms
squirm
in the flesh
of butchered innocent pigs.
They have muzzled the truth about
Mad Cow, Mad Pig, Mad Chicken,
Mad Deer, Mad Fish, Mad Sheep,
Mad Elk etc.
Through the USDA Forest Service
old trees which have stood
for centuries, (one of the last 700 year old
cedars) were cut
down
.We are the land of skinny trees.
The Forest Service sets
'controlled burn' fires..
when the wind changes
fires have destroyed millions
of acres.
The USDA does not enforce
the lab inspection laws.
The result is animal agony,
filthy labs, and redundant
research.
This regime selected Ann
Veneman from the American
Meat Institute to be its head.
Now as the head of UNICEF
she is trying to poison the
world's children with
cadavers of animal flesh
Their agents have destroyed
food
coops in Washington,
infiltrated vegetarian and
vegan groups.
********
Whether under Dan Glickman, Ann Veneman, Ed Schafer
the USDA policy has remained the same.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Friends of the Forest (Memories of Clayoquot)
A small band of protesters
gathered in the forest.
Together their voices growing,
rising on the wind.
A Chorus.
'Stop cutting the tree's'
they cry.
'Stop raping the land.
Our Mother Earth gives us life,
touch her with a gentle hand.'
No Help
from government officials.
'Just pass the tax.' they say.
And the workers in the forest
don't want to find another pay.
So the Friends of the Forest
take a stand to show us how
the power of our words and actions
can start a change
here and now.
The future's in our human hand.
Reuse the trees.
Replant the land.
Show the world a better way
as the forest's guardian.
We are God's
each of us
in a small way,
creators of a future world
with each choice we make today.
poem by Angela Michel
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Sonnet: By God's Grace, the New Dean is One Year Old!
Most trees that grew around were cut for wood!
Just one escaped, as massive was its trunk!
If cut, it would have yielded timber good,
For, it was huge enough for making plank!
The campus has been efforested now –
The buildings seen from outside with much ease;
That one tree looks gorgeous all the more, wow!
It seems to live for years without disease!
The same soil, rain and sun nurtured all trees;
Just one managed to grow surpassing rest;
It brought the wood-cutters down on their knees!
It won the race on earth and stands the best!
God treats alike all creatures, great and small;
’Tis each one’s choice to heed the divine call!
Dedicated as a thanksgiving to the one living, loving God
By Dr.Celestine A. Raj Manohar MD.,
Dean, IRT-PMC, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-11-2009
poem by John Celes
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