Just A Fence
I say this in truth and not in pretense
All else I wish to own is just a fence
A fence that is made out of steel or wood
Placed around my property as it should
Around my home to protect like a guard
So my dogs won't escape from their yard
I want them to be free without a restraint
To run and play without a neighbors complaint
A fence also to be a barrier from the street
So the many dangers or hazards they will not meet
But sadly I am poor and I have no extra expense
So all that I wish for, is just a fence.
poem by Randy McClave
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Related quotes
The Fence
Around my yard there stands a fence
It keeps the outside world out and I safe within
Though the structure is not that immense
It does the purpose as which it was built for and meant.
Neighbors and strangers it keeps out of my yard
Along with their trash and pets which does it harm
I am my yards protector, landscaper and guard
As it is my beauty, and not a trash bin or someone's farm.
My fence allows and welcomes the sunshine and the wind
Mother nature is always welcomed to visit and roam
The squirrels and the birds are always welcomed in
And welcome are the bee's with the pollen they've sewn.
Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects my yard from the enemies about
Too me it makes such perfect sense
Better to stop the entering, than for me to scream and shout.
As my yard is not the playground for a child to use
Or a shortcut for many persons to walk or run
As it it my yard which I won't neglect or abuse
And the work that I do on it, it will never be done.
In the summertime there will be plants to raise
And the leaves to rake when it becomes the fall
While hoping mother nature with me will always stay
And because of my fence, it will protect it all.
Around my yard there stands a fence
It protects and guards my yard everyday of the year
To others though it might cause an offense
As though it tells the people, not to come over here.
It is my yard which is mine to raise it like a child
To cut it and groom it and keep it nice for all to see
But truly it is GOD'S acre, which I saved from the wild
Then through the wonder of nature, in life I do believe.
So as days will come you will see myself in my yard
And sometimes you might see me nervous and tense
I hate clutter and trash so from there it is always barred
Also to protect my yard and myself, is my mighty fence.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Over There
The fence is long and high where we love
You cant see the other side where they live
Ive spied with my little eye
And Ive sighed with my little sigh
But it seems Ive give all that I can give
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive thought again
But it seems Ive given all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
This is the fence that turns one into two
I want to break through but Im though if I do
Ive tried with my little try
And Ive cried with my little cry
But it seems that the gate holds the only clue
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive though again
But it seems Ive given all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
[brilliant solo from stan the man]
Every hour I have to count to ten
And a thousand times Ive thought again
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
But it seems Ive give all that I can give
Is there anyone there
Here is the fence that they built
{over there}
This is the fence that hate built
Is anyone there
{over there}
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Denotation and connotation
Fence means boundary by denotation.
Fence means barrier by connotation.
Good fence makes good crops.
Good fence makes good neigbours.
.25.12.2006.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Humbug
Across the fence we stand on looking;
Nevertheless, I can see your glances,
hear your talks, smell your presence,
feel the currents and taste the essence
of your vision, in thought, part by part
and the response I got to my dart.
Notwithstanding the fence, we’re not apart.
Over the fence we do yet communicate.
Corporals are fenced to ensure chastity;
Any fence to forbid sexual amity?
Then why is all this humbug?
10.04.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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On the Boundary
I Love the ancient boundary-fence,
That mouldering chock-and-log.
When I go ride the boundary
I let the old horse jog
And take his pleasure in and out
Where the sandalwood grows dense,
And tender pines clasp hands across
The log that tops the fence.
’Tis pleasant on the boundary-fence,
These sultry summer days;
A mile away, outside the scrub,
The plain is all ablaze,
The sheep are panting on the camps,
The heat is so intense;
But here the shade is cool and sweet
Along the boundary-fence.
I love to loaf along the fence,
So does my collie dog,
He often finds a spotted cat
Hid in a hollow log;
He’s very near as old as I
And ought to have more sense,
I’ve hammered him so many times
Along the boundary-fence.
My mother says that boundary fence
Must surely be bewitched;
The old man says that through that fence
The neighbours are enriched;
It’s always down, and through the gaps
Our stock all get them hence,
I takes me half my time to watch
The doings of that fence.
But should you seek the reason
You won’t travel very far,
’Tis there a mile away among
The murmuring Belar:
The Jones’s block joins on to ours,
And so, in consequence,
It’s part of Polly’s work to ride
Their side the boundary-fence.
poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
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To Keep Thieves And Undesirables Away
Was it before or after,
Your home had burned to the ground...
Did you report the smelling of smoke?
Now...
Be perfectly honest.
Because we have it on record,
That your neighbors have stated...
You were observed,
Building a fence in your backyard...
When they were shouting to you,
Flames could be seen for miles...
Coming from your house.
And you ignored them.
In fact...
One of them claims,
You called the police...
To demand the removal of someone,
Trespassing on your property.
Again...
When did you notice,
Your home was burning down?
And the significance of the fence,
Is...
What?
To keep thieves and 'undesirables' away?
Do you mind repeating that?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In baseball you hit your home run over the right-field fence, the left-field fence, the center-field fence. Nobody cares. In golf everything has got to be right over second base.
quote by Ken Harrelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tonight Something Hot Is Going On
outside the
fence of the house
the dogs
the bitches are
doing it tonight
in heat
they bark at each others'
lust
who can fence
lust?
no one stops
a river
no one can keep
the rain
from falling
look at us
how pitiful have we become
because
of civilization
we are inside this house
with safe windows
with well locked doors
high fences
thick walls
how unhappy
can restraint ever be?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Defenses
She'll never say it
This, nor the other:
She will never
ever
love again
The fence her fortress
forewarning 'bidding
'boding
The fence her offense
insipid speech of silence
tepid
The fence is fencing
The fence her armour
sword word arrow
passive aggressive
disconnected
sultry desultory dagger
But when she lowers her glasses
in such the way smiling
i steal a glimpse
there is no defense
copyright Randy Resh 2008
The Toronto Quarterly,2009
poem by Randy Resh
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A Fence
Now the stone house on the lake front is finished and the
workmen are beginning the fence.
The palings are made of iron bars with steel points that
can stab the life out of any man who falls on them.
As a fence, it is a masterpiece, and will shut off the rabble
and all vagabonds and hungry men and all wandering
children looking for a place to play.
Passing through the bars and over the steel points will go
nothing except Death and the Rain and To-morrow.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Grand-Pa's Whim
While for me gapes the greedy grave
It don't make sense
That I should have a crazy crave
To paint our fence.
Yet that is what I aim to do,
Though dim my sight:
Jest paint them aged pickets blue,
Or green or white.
Jest squat serenely in the sun
Wi' brush an' paint,
An' gay them pickets one by one,
--A chore! It ain't.
The job is joy. Although I'm slow
I save expense:
So folks, let me before I go,
Smart that ol' fence.
Them pickets with my hands I made,
When young and spry;
I coloured them a gleeful shade
To glad the eye.
So now as chirpy as a boy,
'Ere I go hence,
Once more let me jest bright to joy
Our picket fence.
poem by Robert William Service
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Dad
The two Gibraltars in the yard
never were delivered.
They have always been there.
The twenty years I lived there
the neighbors never said a word.
Their shrieks would shatter both
if they could see them.
The redwood fence my father built
is tall enough to cover his.
It will be tall enough, he swears,
in time to cover mine.
My father says before he dies
he'll sell his own Gibraltar
and leave the house, the yard,
the redwood fence to me
to guarantee that I keep mine.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Sitting On A Fence
Sitting on a fence is a man who sees no sense in fighting
Sitting on a fence is a man who sees no sense at all
Sitting on a fence is a man who strokes his twenty beards
Sitting on a fence is a man who drink real ale
But the real problem with this man
Is he says he cant when he can
Hed rather not get his hands dirty
Hell still be there when hes thirty
I told myself to keep my mouth shut
But I still end up saying if and but
I lied to myself right from the start
And Ive just worked out that Im falling apart
Sitting on a fence
Sitting on a fence is a man who looks up to his guardian
Sitting on a fence is a man who swings from poll to poll
Sitting on a fence is a man who sees both sides of both sides
Sitting on a fence is a man who looks down on opinion
But the real problem with this man
Is he says he cant when he can
Hes rather not get his hands dirty
Hell still be there when he is thirty
I told myself to keep my mouth shut
But I still end up saying if and but
I lied to myself right from the start
And Ive just worked out that Im falling apart
Sitting on a fence
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fencing
fence out despair
it does nothing good for the grass on the yard
fence in hope
for they are like finches that feed on the grains
to include the wastes of the kitchen
fence out doubt
they do nothing but crowd the room
like uninvited guests
who always ask for glasses of wine
though you want to close out
but they always persist in drunkenness
fence it love
you know what it can do to your bed
and the linens
and the bathroom
it gives you a sense of beginning
a feeling of eternity
when you have forgotten how to moan
fence out loneliness
you know how it destroys you
and deprives you of much needed sleep
when your eyes sink
like boats in the whirlpools of madness
but at any rate when these fenced out matters
still remain
such as the loneliness that you cannot drive away
or the doubt that still cling like dusts in the furniture
no matter how you dust them away
or the despair that appears like blood stains
in your pastel green carpets
well, why not be with them
and make them feel that they are at home with you
perhaps
they mean no harm
they do nothing
except to make you feel
that you are not alone
that happiness is a freak
that life is like all these
whole in sadness
undefeated in our psychological wars
that after all
they are your sources of strength
the tests of your mettle.
welcome them
after all they have nothing to stay
except in your
house of realities.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Other Greener Pasture
that is the usual case
when you look over the fence that you just built
your eyes gaze to the other side
greener than yours
i mean, the grass, not the greenness of your iris
if you could have built a higher fence
so that you can narrow your gaze
within the four corners of your walls
and live this life that is all yours to own
you could have been happier here
but life is not meant to be
just that
four walls, a higher fence, taking all that come
sitting down
and breathing the air inside
the lungs
which until now have not seen the
rays of the sun
play the game
climb a tree
try jumping over your fences
it is only then when
you realize
that after all
your grass has always been
greener
your air more fresh
your fence most stable.
after all you got a poodle
a rose, a butterfly, a bird,
and this PC
that knows how to write poetry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Fence
I built the fence on a cold grey hill
With bar and shovel and axe and maul
And quite a measure of toil and will,
For I needed a paddock to clear and till,
So I dug the holes by the bloodwoods tall
And I felled the ones that grew on the line
And cut them into a handy length
That would serve the purpose of my design,
For each a link in the fence's spine,
And each would add to the fence its strength.
Each post I barked, and I sapped and stood
In a line as straight as a rifle shot,
And the sap ran red from the honest wood
Of the native gum that was sound and good
And with age would harden and never rot,
Then the wire, I strung, and I strained it tight,
And each post I fixed to the jagged wire,
So my fence was finished by fall of night
When my gaze was drawn to a distant light
And I turned for the warmth of home and fire.
© Dennis N. O'Brien,2011 - 2012
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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Oft Times Tis Better
Sometimes tis better
to not know the answers
Better to not know
what’s on the other side of the fence
Oft times tis better
To live in the not knowing
To allow one’s imagination
To indulge in suspense
Sometimes it’s better
The fact of not knowing
To let others enlighten us
Of the truth, not pretense
Sometimes tis better
To be dumb and be blind
To not see or to hear
What might torment one’ sense
Sometimes tis better
And oft times less bitter
Since oft times not knowing
tis one’s only defense
Sometimes tis better
To dwell in the darkness
To be a bit unenlightened of…
What’s on the other side of the fence
poem by David Whalen
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Jump over the Cottonwood fence if the gate's locked
A poor Mom writes to her daughter
Who eloped with the next-door neighbour.
Dad looks into the infinity the wholeday
And sometimes forgets my name too.
It's really sad and come home together
Before I too get the forgetfulness!
Jump over the Cottonwood fence
If the gate's locked and it's not a hard task for you
Because you're very familiar with the height of the fence!
*We live in the present, we dream of the future, but we learn eternal truths from the past.
-Unknown
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Move with a reservation
Imagine a field with a fence.
Imagine it without a fence.
Imagine it with a fence and a gate,
Like which must be your contact field.
27.12.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Aren't You All Neighbors?
If I consume more than my neighbor,
And squander my feeding at their expense...
To then expect for them to remain silent,
As they pay more for the construction of my fence.
Or the fixing of cracks on pavements I travel,
Without my offering a single cent.
Why should I be disturbed by their nonsense?
Yet I am the first to advocate the raising of rents,
To keep certain 'elements' away from me and distanced.
Should I get upset the request I pay higher taxes,
On my property that has been re-assessed?
Since I am more accustomed to live high on the hog,
While others around me find it difficult to live on less?
'But...
Aren't you all neighbors?
And aren't you all sharing the same amenities offered? '
I am a conservative.
I am not one of those 'liberals' seeking a hand-out.
I am entitled to be served.
'But...
Aren't you all neighbors?
And aren't you all sharing the same amenities offered? '
I am a conservative.
I am not one of those 'liberals' seeking a hand-out.
I am entitled to be served.
If I consume more than my neighbor,
And squander my feeding at their expense...
To then expect for them to remain silent,
As they pay more for the construction of my fence.
Why should I be disturbed by their nonsense?
'But...
Aren't you all neighbors? '
Why should I be disturbed by their nonsense?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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