Eco-logical
'Trees need their alone time too' I read it just now
in a poem by Bob Hicok and just like that
the world expanded thoughtfully and gloriously
and I imagined the whole of nature
giving a great sigh of relief
like a dog does when it lies down for the night
and a great sigh goes from the tips of its paws
to its ears or of course it might be the other way around
and trees with that sigh get on with their nightly cleansing routine
and expel all the stuff that mankind has made them put up with
in the world that we 'share' ha ha
and then think about the poor trees in the park and the streets
who've been passive smokers all day not to mention
gas-guzzlers without the accompanying four wheels
to enable them to getoutahere into the countryside for the weekend
to **** that up too yes I'm sorry trees although I must say
you do a good job of it and with silent patience
and don't write complaining to the newpapers in a mass protest
which is just as well as those papers need more trees
so I was just almost feeling complacent that Nature
seems to be well just about keeping the whole thing
on the rails until I looked up at the tops of the tallest trees
and saw the tops dying off
and wanted right then to know if prayer would help
because what else will
and thank you Bob and I guess poetry too
for half a line that brought me to the world
and a laugh then tears.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Related quotes
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
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Sonnet: Grow Trees
The branches cut the wind fierce to a breeze;
The leaves break sunlight into chequered beams;
The shade of trees affords all travelers peace;
The wearied ones sleep ’neath the trees in dreams!
And birds too build their nests on branches high;
The squirrels eat their berries with great joy;
The trees make verdant all landscape near-by;
And attract rain in which children enjoy!
Trees make the earth greener and beautiful,
Adding oxygen to the air we breathe;
Preserve its trees, man! Nature is grateful;
The leaves and flowers can make us a wreath.
Trees are so useful to mankind always;
’midst good trees, men have spent their earthly days!
7-14-2002
poem by John Celes
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Alankar(Decor) -82
Trees
Trees talk
Rustling to birds
Embraced of breeze nestling
'How wonderful this world you know
Lovely'
Lovely
Birds too agree
Having sheltered up safe
Rejoicing in harmony with
Nature
Nature
If we're fond of
Bonds us with good living
Like the trees store water in roots
For us
For us
The trees breeze breath
Pure and pollution free
Guarding self and around healthy
In peace
In peace
We all can sing
'How lovely this world is'
Until the axe-ghost enters to
Gobble
poem by Indira Renganathan
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A Pleasant Autumn Day
A pleasant Autumn day of wind and sunshine
And yellow leaves depart their trees and fall
To Mother Earth who silently receives them
And wattlebirds on flowering gum trees call.
On this quiet side street of inner suburbia
The leaves are dying on the deciduous tree
But were i a poet I'd put my pen to paper
And write of the great beauty that i see.
For Nature's beauty can be found in strangest places
Far from the countryside it can be seen
Deciduous trees are golden brown in Autumn
And gums and wattles rich and evergreen.
And many urban people too love Mother Nature
And of workings of Nature there is much to know
They love to hear the birds sing in their gardens
And take pride in plants and trees they helped to grow
I respect those who respect Mother Nature
The damage done to her they try to mend
For Nature brings her beauty to all Seasons
And to every Nature lover I'm a friend.
In quiet side street in inner suburbia
Deciduous leaves to Mother Earth drift down
And wattlebirds are calling on the gum trees
And Mother Nature too lives in the town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Medea and I were in love
I woke up and the world
was just the same
The trees are green
but the trees were always green
I had slept for a length of time
and the sky remained
and the stars
but they were always there
In mind I had an idea
A super crime
I dreamt about Medea
I dreamt about the time
Medea and I were in love
If I were able to alter time
If I woke up the world
would it be the same
With the trees green
but the trees were always green
linz©2003
Silent train journey through my mind
Of all places to go
Secretive passenger what is it that you hide
That at a crossing matters so
Like a whistle in the distance
An attraction to a child
I hear the excitement in the voices
But there is a man waving a red flag at the mouth of the tunnel
Silent train I will not let you into the darkness
I will not let go
Go back out again to the world
where this line stops and the rest of the world begins
poem by Lindsay Crosby
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Poinciana
(simon/bernier)
Blow...tropic wind...
Sing a song...through the trees.
Trees...sigh to me...
Soon my love...i will see.
Poinciana,
Your branches speak to me of love.
Pale moon is casting shadows from above.
Poinciana,
Somehow I feel the jungle beat
Within me, there grows a rhythmic, savage
Beat.
Love is everywhere, its magic perfume fills the air.
To and fro, you sway, my hearts in time,
Ive learned to care.
Poinciana,
Though skies may turn from blue to gray,
My love will live for ever and a day.
Blow....tropic wind,
Sing a song through the trees.
Trees...sigh to me
Soon my love... I will see.
Poinciana...
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadows And Tall Trees
Back to the cold restless streets at night
I talk to myself about tomorrow night
Walls of white protest
A gravestone in name
Who is it now
It's always the same
Who is it now
Who calls me inside
Are the leaves on the trees
Just living disguise
I walk sweet rain tragicomedy
I'll walk home again
to the street melody
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Life through a window
Discoloured pain
Mrs. Brown's washing is always the same
I walk street rain tragicomedy
I'll walk home again
to the street melody
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
(Out there)
Do you feel in me...
Anything redeeming
Any worthwhile feeling
Is love like a tightrope
Hanging from the ceiling
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
Shadows and Tall Trees
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Blitz
I stared in silent wonder,
As autumn rolled in like thunder-
And in a lightening's flash,
Started my world on fire!
The trees burned brightly in,
Sunset and smokey grey hues-
The leaves lept down from the trees,
And quickly spread the news!
The wind whistled through the woods,
And swept the ground-
And wailed!
It tickled the grass,
And seized the leaves-
And up!
And away, they sailed!
Leafy flames,
Of vibrant flare-
Lept up here!
And, over there!
The fire,
It stripped the trees-
Leaving them cold,
And bare!
Then the wind,
It hummed...
And the fire,
It died down.
All of nature,
Was now beautifully crowned.
The wind-
It let out a sigh,
It shuddered-
Then it died.
There was heared no sound,
For the fire had passed.
No hint of it,
Was left to last-
But the embers which blanketed the floor.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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The Hollow Wood
Out in the sun the goldfinch flits
Along the thistle-tops, flits and twits
Above the hollow wood
Where birds swim like fish -
Fish that laugh and shriek -
To and fro, far below
In the pale hollow wood.
Lichen, ivy, and moss
Keep evergreen the trees
That stand half-flayed and dying,
And the dead trees on their knees
In dog's-mercury and moss:
And the bright twit of the goldfinch drops
Down there as he flits on thistle-tops.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Archibald's Example
Old Archibald, in his eternal chair,
Where trespassers, whatever their degree,
Were soon frowned out again, was looking off
Across the clover when he said to me:
“My green hill yonder, where the sun goes down
Without a scratch, was once inhabited
By trees that injured him—an evil trash
That made a cage, and held him while he bled.
“Gone fifty years, I see them as they were
Before they fell. They were a crooked lot
To spoil my sunset, and I saw no time
In fifty years for crooked things to rot.
“Trees, yes; but not a service or a joy
To God or man, for they were thieves of light.
So down they came. Nature and I looked on,
And we were glad when they were out of sight.
“Trees are like men, sometimes; and that being so,
So much for that.” He twinkled in his chair,
And looked across the clover to the place
That he remembered when the trees were there.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Song of the woods
For a time the birds
and the trees
and animals dwelt in me,
but then came man.
Axes and saws
started to chop and bite
and as trees fell,
there wasn’t a place
safe for animals to be.
Time swept past
and man’s machines
started to carve
right trough trees.
Trees fell faster
than any could grow
and the climate was altered
by man and his machines.
Lost was the air
that had risen from me
and the forest rain dwindled
and a scorching sun
started to batter me.
The world of old is lost
and most of the trees are gone
and clouds of pollution
blankets the world.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Lost People of a Peaceful Place
I sit quietly under the trees, staring at my barrier of leaves.
They whisper against each other, telling me the stories
of a long-forgotten past. Of a world many generations ago,
that housed a very different people.
A people close to Nature.
A people that was kicked out of their beautiful home
to be moved along the Trail of Tears like cattle.
To be put through the suffereing no man should dream of inflicting.
They left without a trace.
Staring at these trees, one would never guess that this place
used to be the home of quiet, peaceful people.
One would never guess how happy these people could be
without mandatory luxories that they never imagined.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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Choked
Trees above her, below her, to each side of her
Fog obstructing her view, where should she be?
She cannot tell what day it is any more than she can tell what time it is
Which way should she turn?
The fog swallows her feet
When she thinks she has found the right path, she sees an opening...
Then the fog swallows it
She has been misled again
...and again
......and again
She screams, she’s tired; she is choked by the fog, betrayed by the trees
Feels like she’s been here forever
Trees that don’t talk back anymore
No one is there to guide her
She is lost
The trees and fog are making her second guess every step she makes
Mocking her, humiliating her, laughing at her
At one time she thought they would lead her
Following each way the breeze decided to sway the trees
Going with the fog because where there is fog there is water
Water leads her to place she needs to be
If only the fog was not so thick
if only the trees would talk again
If....If....IF! !
If only she was not lost
The trees and the fog swallows her
Then spits her out when she is nothing more
Nothing is left
Besides a new start
God! Please help me!
poem by Ashley Joyce Forbus
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Small Trees
I am little like the small trees,
These are at least bigger than flowering plants,
The richness of theirs is far superior to us.
Since they are richer and we are taller,
The magnificent colours shine as they do.
Greenness is our nature as trees,
Whilst they are always colourful
More than us.
The tree of bigness is a lethal organ,
One we sit by and watch growing older.
Then the small trees subjugate the other trees
Far smaller, but we are supposed to respect
The bigger trees, they are certainly not the biggest.
The best of us are longer in health,
Whilst I am little for I am a small tree.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Where Trees Are, I Am!
Just trees will grow in shapes that please,
My shapes do grow like limbs;
Eyes see, ears hear - abilities!
But trees possess just whims.
Where trees are, I am! So you are
The one with limbs, the one
Who swears with words always bizarre,
Phrases of prediction.
The plants called trees are super-wise,
The stalks are trunks profound,
Their limbs and roots also advise,
The trees are aboveground.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Madman
'I should go mad,' he said, 'in such a place!
The lack of company, the loneliness!
Nothing but trees to stare you in the face;
Nothing to do; no life; no pep; no pace!
I'd die of melancholy.' I said 'Yes?'
'Why, yes,' said he. 'The suburbs can be bad.
But this? Why, heavens, man! I should go mad.'
'What do you do?' he said. 'How find a way
To pass the time? Of course, the country's great
For rest and that' (I wished he'd go away;
I had a hundred things to do that day).
'Oh, well,' I said, 'I think; I meditate
And - ' 'Think? A man can't always think
Not all the time. Good lord! I'd take to drink!
'I'd go stone mad,' he said. 'I know the trees
And birds and sky, and all that sort of stuff
Please for a while. But man can't live on these.
I've got my love of nature's harmonies;
But, spare me days, man, nature's not enough.
You work, you say. But then, when work is done,
What in the thunder do you do for fun?
'Ah, well,' he said. 'It's peaceful, that I'll say.
Er - what's the time? Good heavens, I must go!
I've got a crowd of men to see to-day;
I'll miss the train! I must be on my way.
Can't spare another half a minute. So,
Good-bye. I wonder you're not dilly, lad.'
'Ah, that's just it,' I told him. 'I am mad.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Save The Oak Trees
When you touch paper you touch a tree.
You pray for the trees from which paper come to thee.
Trees store light and wisdom in which they can share,
the make you cool by giving you shade.
You shop down a tree you should pray.
Pray for the Oak trees not to but cut down
cut down sad to the ground.
For Oak trees are very tired now-
they need to be appreciated somehow.
Appreciate Oak trees qualities of strength.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Mach 11,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Chocked
Trees above her, below her, to each side of her
Fog obstracting her view, where should she be?
She cannot tell what day it is anymore than she can tell what time it is
which way should she turn?
The fog swallows her feet
When she thinks she has found the right path, she sees an opening...
Then the fog shollows it
She has been mislead again
...and again
......and again
She screams, shes tired, she is choked by the fog, betrayed by the trees
Feels like shes been here forever
Trees that dont talk back anymore
No one is there to guide her
She is lost
The trees and fog are making her second guess every step she makes
mocking her, humilating her, laughing at her
At one time she thought they would lead her
Following each way the breeze decided to sway the trees
Going with the fog because where there is fog there is water
water leads her to place she needs to be
If only the fog was not so thick
if only the trees would talk again
If....If....IF! !
If only she was not lost
The trees and the fog swallows her
Then spits her out when she is nothing more
Nothing is left
Besides a new start
God! Please help me!
poem by Ashley Dowdy
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Contented With Your Own Silence
in one instance you step out of your door
walk on the road,
keeping your gaze away from the danger side
you keep things to yourself
there is no one to share with
what story you have for the past days
when you hibernated in that room,
it is a break,
you stroll in the park
take your breath under those trees
sit upon one of those empty benches
lose your mind
upon what is obvious and
visible upon those
that do not need any
kind of scrutiny and fathoming
this the time to fish
for nothingness
you lay your hands upon the grass
it is this coolness
that makes you feel connected
to the earth
you sigh and sigh again and again
it is this exhaling that makes you a giver
rather than a taker
it makes you
comfortable like what smokers do
when (they pollute
the air)
there is a certain fulfillment
in this kind of loafing
you carry nothing and thus
you leave nothing
you are not alone
feel this solitude
there are so many of you
doing the same routine in the park
fishers of
nothingness
but i tell you
do not talk do not start a conversation with the one near you
or that one
who is walking his dog early morning
i tried it once
when you get no response
it will just make you lonelier
it is like taking a stone in your hand
and hitting your head with it
sit there,
just sit there
relax
take your time,
and simply be whole
nothing falling
apart
it is beautiful to
see
now that you are
contented with your own
silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Pair Of Sparrows!
A pair of twittering sparrows I see;
What a great wonder sparrows are!
Due to constructions of concrete jungles
Sparrows are driven out farther and farther!
So, they take shelter in high way trees;
Even those trees are cut for laying highways
And the sparrows are driven out still far away!
What kind of guys are they who take shelter
Under the trees in summer time but not
Think of pouring even a dropp of water to it?
Extension of concrete jungles destroys trees
And drives away a few sparrows too forever!
Is this called progress in the modern world?
Or is this a harbinger of apocalypse of the whole?
poem by Ramesh T A
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