Amazon Jungle After Alfred Tennyson The Brook
By mangrove swamps I idle round,
my canopy's world wonder,
leafcutter ants beneath the ground
where three toed sloths would wander.
Tall forest Tarzan never knew
from ground grows great, colossal.
My ecosystem filters through
sward broadleaf basin fossil.
I wind about, and in and out,
with here a silted delta,
an anaconda round about
observes the helter-skelter.
Pass here and there a native hut
pirogues moored to lianas,
with cataracts which canyons cut
mid mangroves and bananas.
I link all life all along my route,
but scoff at lilly-liver,
some men pollute both tree and root -
for them who cares a stiver.
I'd slide by lazing jaguars
admired by nature lovers,
lush greens, blush browns flushed far from bars,
barred are crass concrete covers.
I turn, return, upstream and down,
here deep, there sleep in shallows,
wild orchid winning wonder's crown:
soon jungle man's trace swallows.
Six thousand kilometers long
from Andes to Atlantic
my tributaries maze among
an area gigantic.
I'd flourish under moon and stars
an Eden no machetes
can cut down, with no motor cars,
few churches, no confettis.
My birds and monkeys most hirsute
cry by the flowing river,
though men pollute both tree and root,
Time is the best forgiver.
Lush leaf dome's home to serpent, fruits,
pollution pleases never,
Men's ill repute themselves confutes
while I'll grow green for ever...
For five and fifty million years
my fiber feelers flexing
have followed flood flow, snubbed frontiers,
Man's attitude perplexing.
One pours on heartless human ways,
greed's petty sharps and trebles:
heed! trouble bubble piper pays
pollution's golden pebbles.
Immoral and illicit mines
monstrosities metallic,
mercurial man now spews, refines:
conduct anencephallic.
Vast torrent's pure transparent flow
once glowed - before greed fever:
now brash men cash hunt, rash, come, go,
naught can grow up for ever.
Frogs chortled over leafy way,
'bove turtles, carps, joy croaking,
where jaguar at sunset lay -
now last survivor's croaking.
Men burn my basin, fell my trees
for timber for poor housing,
where once was bird song, beauty, bees,
now here drunk men carousing.
I stem as Amazon offline,
pirahnas my stems lining,
but some regret that Auld Lang Syne
when evergreens are pining.
Men chatter, chatter, fight, dispute,
they're takers, I life giver,
but men pollute both tree and root,
while banking on the river.
(After Alfred Tennyson The Brook 22 April 2010 revised 10 February 2012)
I stem from Amazon offline,
pirhanas my stems lining,
but some regret that Auld Lang Syne
when evergreens are pining.
By mangrove swamps I idle round,
my canopy's a wonder,
leafcutter ants beneath the ground
where three toed sloths would wander.
Till by illegal mines I grow
or grew - before greed's fever -
where brash men cash hunt, rash, come, go,
naught can grow up for ever.
Frogs chortled over leafy way,
'bove little carps joy croaking,
where jaguar at sunset lay -
now last survivor's croaking.
Men burn my acres, cut my trees
for timber for your housing,
where once was birds song, beauty, bees,
now here drunk men carousing.
I wonder over heartless ways,
man's little sharps and trebles,
greed's bubble swiftly piper pays
hopes burst on golden pebbles.
Men chatter, chatter, fight, dispute,
they're takers, I life giver,
but men pollute both tree and root,
while banking on the river.
I wind about, and in and out,
with here a silted delta,
an anaconda round about
observes the helter-skelter.
Pass here and there a native hut
pirogues moored to lianas,
with cataracts which canyons cut
mid mangroves and bananas.
I link all life all along my route,
but scoff at lilly-liver,
some men pollute both tree and root -
for them who cares a stiver.
I slide by lazing jaguars,
admired by nature lovers
Iush greens and browns all free from bars
and crass grey concrete covers..
I turn, return, upstream and down,
here deep and there in shallows,
wild orchid winning wonder's crown
soon jungle man's trace swallows.
I flourish under moon and stars
an Eden no machetes
can cut down, with no motor cars,
few churches, no confettis.
My birds and monkeys most hirsute
cry by the flowing river,
though men pollute both tree and root,
Time is the best forgiver.
Lush leaf dome's home to serpent, fruit,
pollution pleases never,
Men's ill repute themselves confutes
while I'll grow green for ever.
(After Alfred Tennyson The Brook 22 April 2010)
The Brook
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorpes, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
The Brook
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorpes, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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It's a river
When the time keeps passing and the world goes round
and the sea is crashing at the cliffs and the sounds
erupting as the seabirds cry, you can watch the river
as the time goes by
And it's like it's holy and it can be hell
and you feel so lonely and you fear the smell
of the guns that fire then you see the light
of a rainbow dawning and you realise
that the river's flowing as the time goes by
And you met the people and you knew them well
and you said you loved them and you rang the bell
in the tree of life you watched them grow
and the world is turning as the river flows
The earth smells good and the sky turns gold
when the birds are singing and you bless the old
you can kiss your woman and it feels so right
as you touch the river as the time goes by
As you stand barefoot upon the morning shore
and you feel the centuries of death and war
and the wind is biting and it tears your skin
and the river's flowing where its always been
And the river washes and the river's clean
and the soul remembers where the river's been
as you watch it tumble and you watch it flow
your life's a river now you know, now you know
your life's a river now you know.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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The Once Great River
In the once great river pollution is rife
Nowadays it does not support much aquatic life
In a polluted river fresh water fish rare
Pollution can cause extinction of that much we are aware
On the polluted river few water birds to be seen
Most of the river pools covered in algae of green
From sewage and wash of chemical fertilisers that in drains into it does flow
With so called human progress the scourge of pollution does grow
Pollution in it flowing to the distant ocean shore
The once great river is not great anymore
Do not drink of these waters the warning signs say
Pollutiuon is rife in the World of today
And the once great river flows on muddy gray
To the mighty ocean many miles away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A New leaf
There’s a new leaf upon the Tree
A thousand, thousand have been before
In the life of this great tree
Yet, the Tree rejoices, and is glad
For there is a New Leaf upon the tree
The roots are deep, and hidden
Tis one tree from root to branch
And lives in and through each leaf
The hearts’ smile resurrected
Through the New leaf upon the tree
Like the stars of heaven
New leaves have been many
And so they all are One
For they all share the same root
Bless the New leaf upon the tree
Perfection in the Blessing
Joy released in tears of love
The strength in life will comfort
From root to God above
A New leaf upon the tree
Beauty, Truth, and life
Complete from root to branch
When life’s cycle turns
Leaves fall to nourish roots
And behold, a New leaf upon the tree
poem by Adrian Wait
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If life’s a river
If life’s a river
Flowing on a course
Long proven to be the best way
To reach the sea, then flow on
If the rocks and boulders
Are the cross
Each one of us is given to bear
Let our river flow around rocks
Over time, the sharp edged rocks will
Be rounded by the rivers flow
Ever there, but not so jagged
As they were before
The ever changing banks have seen
A trickle grow into a youthful stream
And swelling into a mighty river
That sometimes mingles with another
Every river looks for a path
That’s less rocky, a shorter way to the sea
Ever quietly flowing
Ceaselessly searching
Until one day, when it is time
A new path opens
The river changes path
And yet, every river pours into the sea.
poem by Anita Atina
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The River Forever To The Ocean Flow
The river that flows from the hills far away
Through wetlands and dry lands by night and by day
As old as father time will journey forever more
Through the flat coastal lands en route to the sea shore.
It starts on it's journey as a trickling rill
In a pond by a rock at the base of the hill
That is far north of here even as the crow fly
The river flows on and refuses to die.
From a rill to a stream and into a river it grow
As rills and streams from other hills into it flow
It babbles and gurgles by hedgerow and tree
On it's forever journey on down to the sea.
A creek, brook, stream or river call it what you may
Near the ocean it grows to a huge water-way
And Humans like the Seasons to life come and go
But the river forever to the ocean flow
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dark River
Swift 'n deep you run “Dark River”
Flowing relentless to a distant sea
You care not what gets in your way
Oh, impassive taker and faux-giver
How many canyons have you carved?
How many great trees carried away?
How many sins have washed clean?
Not even Mother Nature you obey
Dark River brought love to me
Then quickly washed it away
Deep ‘neath a million ripples
My fragile heart she did betray
Flow on Dark River, flow on
A Briny fate awaits, flow on
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Watching The River Flow
While Sun shines bright
And the Moon is full aglow
That is the time
To sit and watch the river flow.
For that is the time
To write poems in the sand
And also in the mind
To hold a Lady's hand.
Heaven is above us
And Earth is still below
And not a better place to be
But to sit and feel the flow.
Fishes now are swimming
As the birds they do fly
Up and down the river
To where the bullfrogs cry,
Stars are shining bright
And the Moon is all aglow
While sitting beneath the moonlight
Listening to the river flow.
The shivers are going out
For the rivers flowing in
Up and down my life and soul,
Only to begin once again.
Heaven is above us
And the Earth is still below
How I love to sit and wish
And hear the river as it flow.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Crystal River
Slowly, slowly, slowly the crystal river flow,
Moving down the slope of rocks below.
The water were warm since harmattan's due
And frogs croak as they usually do.
But the river has something we never knew:
Deep down, it can make sick ones anew.
Because, there resides the sea-kind and his queen;
To enlarge their empire they were keen
And once they mated and had a son,
But the son offended the sun.
Heaven became angry, including the moon
The river started drying up too soon.
So our crystal river ceased to flow
And relocated to somewhere we'll never know.
And up and down the people go
Searching where the crystal river used to flow
Down the slope of rocks below,
Where now littl little grasses do grow.
poem by Chime Justice Ndubuisi
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Ceases to Flow
The course of river ceases to flow
As if smile has worn out and loss of glow
The course lay at standstill
River has lost its way and the will
The river bad has turned arid
As if everything is burnt by use of acid
No life is seen with even slight movement
Waiting for fresh waters to rush at any moment
I hear far cry from night birds
They made no noise was ever heard
The river has brought dead silence
I see it as unusual sign hence
It spells disaster for time to come
Not good sign and hence unwelcome
Not river bank but all streams may go dry
Birds will have to migrate and prepare for long journey to fly
I take it as nature’s curse
Entire blame must go to us of course
The river has altered course or deserted in between
Such situation has never been witnessed or seen
No green grass may grow
No fresh water may now flow
What to speak now of curve paths and falls?
It may be spelled as simple curse for all
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Only Immortal
From a tiny dark seedling a tree begins to grow
Into a huge tree with large branches in fifty years or so
It does not need help from Humankind Nature does best on her own
A tiny seed blown in the wind by Nature is self sown
To kind Mother Earth who feeds us all respect we do not pay
We pollute the air we pollute the seas and every Waterway
But what we do to Mother Earth to our own selves we do
The weather temperatures rising every year by a degree or two
We are like Nature's Seasons to life we come and go
The sharp scythe of the reaper is destined to lay us low
Immortality for Humankind perhaps based on a lie
We must return to Nature since we are born to die
The greats of human history the life from them long gone
But Nature lives forever she just goes on and on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The River That Murmurs
I will ask the river, that flows serene
I will speak to the sky
I will ask the river that murmurs
Not to ask me why
I cannot speak for myself.
That time has long since passed me by.
The river can murmur and sing
Unspent by passion: my voice
Will break like a terribly taut string.
My words will be grammatically and academically
Twisted (like that leafless tree) , unfortunately!
I want the river to speak, to speak
Alone, alone with thee.
The river can, softly and without tears
Tell you my dreams and my fears
I know you will listen:
And while city lights in the water glisten
You wont see the tears that shine on my face
No, that is a serious, sentimental place
That only I know;
Flow, river, flow.
Flow, river flow.
Speak to the only love I know.
Daybreak approaches soon
You and he by the light of the moon
Will murmur whilst I -
Will wait for you to bring me his reply.
poem by Rani Turton
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A Poem With Roots
Deep in the ground
Far beneath my feet
My mothers lifetime ago
A seed, a root, a tree began to grow.
Buried in the soil
It once lay alone,
Til the seeds, the root, the tree began to show.
Deep in the ground
Far beneath my feet.
A root became a tree.
poem by Caitlynn Rose
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Sediments of life
Fresh and so curious
With purity and innocence,
What lies ahead, eager to know
As a stream we start to flow
Along this course down a hill
So many brooks of hope and vision
….of strength, dream and will
Conjoin as big river
Step ahead and flow further
In the course of life
This river is just young
Wild is its imagination
So strong, its ambition
Upwelling of its emotions
To secure a future, identity to define
Push the flow to rapids, down the valley to fly
The river of youth, went in speedy currents
On its way carried what was there on the earth
Down a deep gorge
As the water swiftly surge
Its strength at climax
Churn the drift to cataracts
In misty foam or a rainbow’s arc
The river leaves a benchmark
We as rivers, flow in currents
Posing on achievement and failure
Unfaltering and calm is the mid course river
Wide is its bank, serene its journey
As it steadily flows for legacy
On trails of time clays to imprint
To pass on layers of silt,
To witness its once existence,
It residues on the track of life
We as rivers, flow in currents
The long trip from its head
Through its voyage to recollect
At the last course, in the sunset
The river ponders on its sediment
At the mouth awaits the sea
As an outlet to infinity
And mistakes learned, toiled effort
Life of success, well travelled path
Enough sediments, brings about
Fertile ground to cultivate
A platform to reflect
Delta of life before the sea
Leaves the river to eternity…
Sediments of life to pile up
At the end since the start
Determined to move, if hope ever fails
The river ends without a trace
Through sieve of life, having no sift
The salty water the river meets
Rivers we are, to sediment in time
Flow in currents, life to define.
poem by Fasika Ayalew
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Look To The Land
Well, I dreamed I was a gypsy riding the land
With a tambourine and a gypsy queen and a rainbow caravan
? ? ? ? ? ? ? yeah, but I wont be
Stealing diamonds from the rich men to throw in the sea
Singing look to the land cause the land is the key
Keep an eye on the lake, yeah and an eye on the sea
Yes, I dreamed I was a cabin boy on that american clipper line
? ? ? ? ? ? southcaroline
Oh bring flowers for the captain that they may not wilt
On the ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? (yeah, allright)
Yes I dreamed I was the captain of a river queen
Carressing mississippi waters down to new orleans
Just a riverboat captain thats what I want to be
Wont you come on now Ill let you ride my ? ?
Singin look towards the river for the rivers the key
Keep an eye on the river and an eye on the sea (and you know its allright)
Where the sun shines I will go mama take my hand
I wanna bring you to the lake
And the wild wind blows and the mountains grow and the people know
Yes they know you must let the river flow, let the river go
Where the river flows I will follow, where the sun shines I must go
Now mama, take my hand I wanna bring you to the lake
Where the wild wind blows and the people know
And the mountains grow, yes they grow
And the river flows, gotta let the river flow
Yes I dreamed I was a river flowing free
And I dreamed that ? ? just flow naturally
Yes I dreamed I was a crystal mountain stream
Running down the biggest mountain youve ever seen, singin
Look towards the river for ? ? ? ? ?
Keep an eye on the river and an eye on the sea
Dreamed I was your lover cause thats what I wanna be
I dreamed that every night you dreamed only of me
Well walk together by the sea hand in hand
Id tell you you were my only woman and Ill be your only man, singin
Look towards the lovers for they are the key
Keep an eye on the lovers and an eye on the war machine
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let It Flow
Where are the new rebels
We didnt ask for this
Trying to be something different
We will fight the bigots
Fight them with our reason
Fight them with our constancy
Chorus
River, our river, let it flow
This is our lamp light
Let it glow
River, river, let it flow
This is our reason
Let it grow
Dont keep looking back
Living in the past
Never built a golden future. have,
Have faith in the species
Weve come to far to fail
I dont believe in our extinction
Everyone of us
Has got to take it on
Dont build a dam on evolution. there,
There are those whod like us
To cling on to the past
Wallowing in their past glories
River, (dont)
Our river, (dont look back)
Let it flow (we might fall)
This is our lamp light
Let it glow (have faith in the future)
River, (dont)
River, (dont look back)
Let it flow (we might fall)
This is our reason
Let it grow
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Till last by Philip's farm I flowTo join the brimming river,For men may come and men may go,But I go on for ever.
quote by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Is Like A River
we give away like the way a river flows
day to day
we may start with the petals of the flowers
we let them fall one by one
to the flow of the river
then we begin again with the leaves and then
the twigs and the branches and then if we have
nothing more to give we give away the tree itself
to the flow of the river
we look at ourselves we give every part of us
piece by piece to the flow of the great river
our properties our honor our clothes and when all these
are given away we start to give back our hands, our feet
we look at every pocket of our senses and when everything
is given away we shall now give the last that we have to the flow
of this great river of life
we let flow our soul. we have given everything
sometimes we ask that we stay for a while, but this cannot be
the law of the great river of life is clear, we give everything away
slowly, willingly, until all the pain of giving is gone away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Willow tree by the lake
Willow tree by the lake standing tall since the day one
Home for birds and squirrels, place of fun
Breeze will come and play with her branches
Whistle at them before they move on
Any time, at mid day, at night or at the crack of dawn
Humming bird feeder and bird house hanging all over the tree
They swing back and forth and hang free
All summer it is a fun house as the birds come and go
Rabbits will hop around on the ground below.
Ducks will sit idle or sleep under her shade
Squirrels will carry food up the trunk, not afraid
During winter when nature sleeps no life around
Willow tree will shelter the birds, the squirrels
and even the worms under it's ground.
Many yrs ago I planted the tree, saw it grow day by day
Sat under it, wrote poems, it made me happy and gay
I know one day my time will be up and I will be gone
But my willow tree will still be here, singing with the wind at each dawn.
poem by Syed Karim
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No One Steps Twice On The River Of Life...
it is not the rage of this river.
when i was a child, as mother says,
i keep my finger inside my mouth
sucked by my throat, to keep hunger away
beside the bank of this river
i am the spectator
and the river believes in the magic
of my innocence
it flows always in a distant
affection,
it is not the rage of the river,
it is i, the grown up man who goes swimming
in the river and feel
the joys of its cool waters
always moving on towards
a destination
it is the swimming with a friend
and then
with a lover and then with a wife
and then my silence,
what we do not have we force to forget
it is the bathing in the river
the rinsing and the cleansing of the waters
it is not the rage of this river
and then we become too weak to be in this river
the river moves on and on
towards the deepest sea looking for the
opening
i wait by the bank of this river
many things have been missed
the more important ones
the one that gives the posterity of
my humanity
it is denied of me because of this river
that gives me nothing
all the while i was the leaf that fell off from
the tree
on the side of this river
and i floated because i have nothing to do
because i can do nothing about
the flow of the river
i become the dead leaf that the air
rides upon
tossed and bumped on boulders
till i sink
deep down the river
that i shall pass only once.
time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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