Island of Vagabonds
Vagabonds are eruptive on this island
Like its crater, the volcano wobbles uncontrolled!
Bigeminal beasts take trips on this isle,
Anatomy making an appearance.
Lifelike objects or plants so outlandish
Wave in the nose as wind-particles, absolutely prestigious!
The footloose planets and plants are dissimilar
In their loose nature, their losing orbital travel.
May paladins exert oneself to combat them
In the islands of volcanoes, the group of originals.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Eden Still Existent
New Zealand
South Island
West Coast
tropical rain forest
sacred images fuse soul
under canopy of life
Eden still existent
living temple of life
flowers in eye heart
breath embrace atmosphere
sight embrace vision horizons
touch ecosystem life non-life
sunlight wind kiss water soil
light water soil nutrients bless
plants into new sprouting life
lakes rivers landscapes
everything is connected life
water; water temperature
plants animals inhale air
light soil water work together
balance life elements least
plants die algae plants
produce oxygen produce fibre
feed herbivores omnivores
energy soil sunlight water
plants produce filter air
produce diverse vegetation
their plant bodies foods
animals herbivores feast eat
plants omnivores feast eat
plants animals both eaten
carnivores eat herbivores
sometimes other carnivores
webs of life interlock creation
decomposers break down dead
planets animals into elements
organic materials waste recycled
back into life nurturing womb soil
energy sunlight kiss soil water
interlocked ecosystems dance
cosmic creation life webs
strands of life sail cosmic winds
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Tickets
The ticket was sold, in the soil of waters and roots,
Profiting from the sale of plants, a real awakening.
The gardeners travelled to a gathering so great,
Locomotion no problem, making progress against the weeds.
What are these plants? Plants give soil a trouble,
When do flowers reckon their demise?
The tickets have cancelled the talk of the nation,
Then the stages ended for the whole conversation.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Breezes
Hard petals of a flower still marry the breeze,
The wind changes every time, all the time.
What breeze is the wind that it freezes our tears?
Cold winter may apologize for our woes,
But does the following season become upright?
The flowing seasons drift in space, in the sky and stars,
When moons and planets reign supreme.
There the seas of blood marry life to death,
Obvious weather is too rude, too fighting our habitat.
The hard flowers under a different sky wonder,
And hard plants are not the same, they are like the tea of Earth.
Breezes are softer than the wind, the wind is kindness,
The wind doubles its burden on creation, as air shall be water;
Water carry on, water is the double trouble of water and air,
It seems the water made plants grow, made growth proper,
With mindless directions in the Sun.
poem by Naveed Akram
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I am Nature
I am nature
Like no other
I am nature
They call me 'Mother'
I am a danger to myself
I can hurt or heal
I am nature
My plants are your meals
I am nature
The wind my sigh
I am a tree
That reaches to the sky.
poem by Tiger Lover
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Footloose
Album: Not Another Teen Movie [Soundtrack] (2001)
I been working so hard
I punch my card
Eight hours, for what?
Now tell me what I got
I get this feeling
That time's just holding me down
I'll hit the ceiling
Or else I'll tear up this town
Now I gotta cut
Loose, footloose
Kick off my Sunday shoes
Please, Louise
Pull me offa my knees
Jack, get back
C'mon before we crack
Lose your blues
Come on and get footloose
You're playing so cool
Obeying every rule
Dig way down in your heart
You're burning, yearning for some
Somebody to tell you
That life ain't passing you by
I'm trying to tell you
It will if you don't even try
now you gotta cut
Loose, footloose
Kick off the Sunday shoes
Oowhee, Marie
Shake it, shake it for me
Whoa, my lord
C'mon, c'mon let's go
Lose your blues
Everybody get footloose
you've got to turn me around
You put your feet on the ground
Now take a hold of your soul
I'm turning
Loose, footloose
Kick off your Sunday shoes
Please, Louise
Pull me offa my knees
Jack, get back
C'mon before we crack
Lose your blues
Come on and get footloose
Footloose, footloose
Kick off your Sunday shoes
Oowhee, Marie
Shake it, shake it for me
Whoa, My lord
C'mon, c'mon let's go
Lose your blues
Everybody get footloose
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Majestic Tree
They bow to the winds that pass
The beautiful majestic trees,
With arms up toward the skies
They laugh in the summer breeze.
They provide shade and shelter for the bee,
He plants history, who plants a tree.
They provide lumber for houses, and barns
For a roof to cover our heads,
Lumber for aeroplanes, ships and cars
And for caskets, to bury our dead.
This is only a few uses you see
He plants history, who plants a tree.
They provide rest for the weary man
Food and protection, for many wild things,
Home and sanctuary, for millions of birds
And rock their babies to sleep in swings.
Their magestic grace so wild and free
He plants history, who plants a tree.
poem by Della Hodgson James
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Footloose
I been working so hard
Keep punching my card
Eight hours, for what?
Oh, tell me what I got
I get this feeling
That times just holding me down
Ill hit the ceiling
Or else Ill tear up this town
Tonight I gotta cut
(chorus)
Loose, footloose
Kick off your sunday shoes
Please, louise
Pull me offa my knees
Jack, get back
Cmon before we crack
Lose your blues
Everybody cut footloose
Youre playing so cool
Obeying every rule
Dig way down in your heart
Youre yearning, burning for some
Somebody to tell you
That life aint passing you by
Im trying to tell you
It will if you dont even try
You can fly if youd only cut
(chorus)
Loose, footloose
Kick off your sunday shoes
Oowhee, marie
Shake it, shake it for me
Whoa, milo
Cmon, cmon let go
Lose your blues
Everybody cut footloose
First - we got to turn you around
Second - you put your feet on the ground
Third - now take a hold of your soul
Four - whooooooooa, Im turning it
Loose, footloose
(chorus)
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Is Who
water you are the motor of nature.who are the clouds without you.who is snow without you. Water you are motor of nature.plants need you for them to stay alive.yes animals need plants to stay alive, but who will stay alive without water. water the engine of life.look the sahara she has lost all her plants and animals she needs water to live again.
poem by George mwandu
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The House Plants
the plants, they are your friends
especially the ones in your room
if you are sensitive to their feelings
you will know they are there trying
to reach out to you all the time
when it quiets down
the television not playing
and the children not prancing around
you would feel another kind
trying to communicate with you
their invisible hands would even
try awaken that faculty in you you
could use to communicate with them
the plants know, we were all once
relatives and they remember that part
in you which will still embrace them
even in the densest of forests
just take a look at the roses,
they can be man's closest friends,
better than the dogs
they slow down their evolution just so that
they can help man express
their love with more charms
men are yang and plants ying
when the two embrace
productivity starts to grow
men breathe out to give the plants
a life and plants breathe out too
to give men a life
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Smelling the Day: Father and Son
Here is a time-tested weather rhyme:
'If with your nose you smell the day,
Stormy weather's on the way.'
There is the rhyme, and here is the reason:
As Andy Dappen wrote,
'Plants release oils into the atmosphere,
'And research indicates
That the higher the humidity,
The more oils the plants give off.
'This produces the distinctive odor
Many of us recognize when we say,
'Smells like rain today.''
When with his nose he smelled the day,
My father, a seasoned farmer, would say,
'Heads up, son! Smells like rain today.'
poem by Monty Gilmer
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How do you stop Nature
How do you tell the sky to stop being blue?
How do you tell the plants to stop growing?
How do you tell the sun to stop shining
Tell the planets to stop moving?
How do you stop what has already begun?
How do you take the blinkers off one who hangs on to them so?
How?
Why you ask?
Why does she want to stop nature
Well,
What nature is does not need to stop
But this is not nature
Yet it's still like the sky being blue.
poem by Thamer Mager
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Losing Myself...
losing myself
amidst plants
caressing a flower here
chasing a bee there
flapping wings with
colourful butterflies
drinking dew from
the cup of leaves and petals
ah, making faces at a kitten
hidden behind a bark
the grass tickling my feet
wind kissing my cheek
my laughter ringing aloud
within me and around my garden...
just me wandering
in my garden
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Sonnet: A Village-life is Better
A city-life has gone to dogs these days,
With problems of water, shelter and food;
The cost of living has gone up always;
The ‘luxury’ cannot keep one’s health good!
A village-life is far better to all;
Tho’ time ticks slowly, health is at its peak;
Yet, love and courtesy is maintained tall;
A simple livelihood, most farmers eke.
But still, men throng the cities all the time,
To live a discontented, worthless life?
And neither are the mind and soul sublime;
Man struggles much to combat daily strife.
So, why can’t men be level-headed then,
And live ’midst Nature’s plants, beasts, birds like wren?
8-2-2002
poem by John Celes
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Beauty....... of what?
The earth wait's the sky drizzles
Seasons come and seasons go
With the smell of weather
The farmer chooses to decorate his farm
A farmer believes every leaf
Of the plant as its own
At every point protects and nurtures
The plants every leaf
The farmer that stood by
That plants every need and move
The plants have no respect for him
The farmer doesn't even find out
Who caste the evil eye
But all that's left is his ruined farm of hope
What was ones a living green
Is now nothing but flying sand?
What did I plant and what did I get?
What did I plant and what did it become?
Wonders the helpless farmer
Even when crying on the inside
Smiles just for its plants
A farmer believes every leaf
Of the plant as its own
At every point protects the plants every leaf
What did I want and what did I get?
Is all the farmer could think
poem by Kiara Davar
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We dont need space
the trees and plants
micmic the voices
of long gone tourists
during this low season
as you sleep in a near
empty island resort,
in the dead of night
the entire garden is alive
with chuckling voices
of men, whomen and children
they set upon the mind
intermittently while you
come in and out of your dreamland
a world dying to have fun
who says plants cant speak
do we really need mouth to speak
here the trees and plants in
their separate place are
acting out a real play they
have acquired from the holiday makers
and make it a fun in a really quiet night
who says we need mouth
to speak, eyes to see,
in a dream, the whole world
has come to us right within
the four corners of our bed
who says we need space to live
one day we are going to live
out of nothngness, right out
of this clumsy frame that
tolls bell of pain and deception
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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We made a demand for the the same wage rates to be paid in the Canadian plants as in the U.S. plants.
quote by Leonard Woodcock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When plants die
A recent poem by Chumfo asked
“Where do plants go when they die?
I’m not sure what to answer
But this is my reply:
Plants go where old dogs go
Where fields of greenery lie
Plants wake up in enchanted mist
that’s where they go when they die
Where there’s ol dogs and children
And lot’s of fertilizer… to boot
fresh spring rains…Deep dark loam
And potting soil to take root
Where there’s no Jolly Green Giant
No blight and no aphids too
Just the sun… the rain…the bird’s refrain
And a lot of good cow poo
poem by David Whalen
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Wonderful Job
To travel and find a sensible person,
Is the task of a scout who wants to converse.
His job can mean several wonderful pursuits,
One he chooses out of these.
How sensible is he and what is his job?
To travel and find a sensible person,
Can mean a long hour or so,
To gain wisdom, exert oneself
Into a delightful rhythm of beauty,
A job for eternity and wonderful mystery.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Working Metaphore
Work is like an island in an ocean of time
Landing on this shore felt like paradise
But the island is small and quickly grows boring
I am standing in the water, looking out as I work
Time passes in portions of half an hour
Wave upon wave of life slipping down the tide-line
I am deciding whether to let go and wash away with it
Or hold on and climb the beach again
How many islands are in this ocean?
I gaze out and see a few just waiting for me
Can I swim to them, will they take me?
In the water between them, is there love lurking?
Changes are on the horizon, as a tsunami
Rolling towards this island invisibly, towards me
None of the islands will survive it, I fear
Or maybe only I will be washed away into oblivion
Tick, splash, tick, splash, wave upon wave of half hours
Carrying me just a little further from the dry sand
Behind me, the managers are calling from the trees
I hesitate for a moment, and let the waves wash over me
Only a few more, and I can swim for a while,
I might ride the changes to a far away place if I'm swimming
In the water I can meet another, to drown my regrets of the last
The waves wash over me, and I wait for the tide to swim
poem by Poet Dragon
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