Disappearance of Forests
I fear for the disappearance of forests
And if the song of birds should cease,
The desolate days when every path of wildflowers
Will be paved into further lonely streets,
Though sometimes I feel like the king
Among the abandoned elements of the urban decay,
Presiding over sad ruins of discontent
Where old ladies fill dusty decrepit pews
In prayer-quiet churches.
But what will children do
When they cannot drive far enough away
To find a sacred place void of billboards that scream
Inadequacies and addictions?
There may become a time when nothing remains
But empty beer bottles and despair,
When even simple pleasures like watching a woman
Brush her daughter’s hair on a summer picnic
Will fail to exist.
…………………………………………………………….
Inspired by a line by Justinas Marcinkevicius: I fear for forests and for birds taken from The Frozen Sea
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Related quotes
Pagoda Paradise
In the peaceful sanctuary
Of this wisteria covered pagoda
I find a quiet grace.
Watching as the dragonflies
Soar past on wings
Of sun blessed lace.
Protected from
The world outside
In this my secret place.
I gaze into the lotus pond
To reflections of the sky
Watching birds as they take flight
How sweetly they do fly.
In natures song and blessedness
No fear can enter here.
This sacred ground is God's alone.
And His Love is ever near.
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
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Bird’s Song
Swim through oceans of air
Birds keep time up there
And spend their days winging
Through forests of clouds, singing
Hymns of nature’s style
Fluttering away all the while
Dancing with angels in the sky
Dancing, dancing as they fly
Through fields of blue
Just to sing their song for you.
Mountains of clouds all about
Saviors in times of drought
Gather up the tears you cry
Into your reservoir in the sky
And listen to the birds sing
Listen for the song in everything
From the forests to the sea
From the bird to the bee
Listen and the song is there
Nature sings everywhere.
The sun rejoices each new day
But it rises in the usual way
To wake up the world with beams of light
And to conquer the darkness of night
But still the birds sing their song
A tribute to the day that’s long
And travel through fields of blue
Just to sing their song for you
And then when all has gone away
They’ll sing for you some other day.
poem by Jamie Collins
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Friends of stones
It is not a paradise
although the sing of birds
It is not the Hell
although the song of birds
although the sound of waves
it is only our world
with many songs in the sky
with many birds in the dream
with many birds in really
It ‘s here that we are living
we are little, very little
we are old, very old
we are wandering,
wandering and loving
this space
we are also
friends of stones
friends of rocks
Fear is with us
But what fear?
A fear sweet
A fear black
or another fear?
Where is the fire of the fear?
Where is the fear of the fear?
Into our World
in a deep of monster
nobody know this
in this world of the words
in this words of the world
but what fear screechs
here and now
without your hands
of red sun?
poem by Jean Francois Le Goff
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We must protect the forests for our children, grandchildren and children yet to be born. We must protect the forests for those who can't speak for themselves such as the birds, animals, fish and trees.
Bodhisattva Nightmare
i felt the bullet
as your body fell,
the sickening gasp of light
lost in the void...
i felt the empty
of your stomach turning,
as you staggered weakly
down that long dusty road.
i felt the bone crushing pain
as he struck your face,
again and again....
i felt the sickness
of the stench of the alley...
i felt the fear and despair of the cell,
the not knowing when
it was going to come...
i felt the hatred and fear
they tormented you with,
for who you loved,
and the way you lived....
i felt the hopelessness
of the hard ass streets,
the gun in your pocket...
the monkey on your back....
i felt.... and still feel!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days Of Summer
-artist: nat king cole
-peak billboard position # 6 in 1963
-words by charles tobias and music by hans carste
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Dust off the sun and moon and sing a song of cheer
Just fill your basket full of sandwiches and weenies
Then lock the house up, now youre set
And on the beach youll see the girls in their bikinis
As cute as ever but they never get em wet
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Youll wish that summer could always be here
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Dust off the sun and moon and sing a song of cheer
Dont hafta tell a girl and fella about a drive-in
Or some romantic moon it seems
Right from the moment that those lovers start arrivin
Youll see more kissin
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Youll wish that summer could always be here
Youll wish that summer could always be here
Youll wish that summer could always be here
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Flight of Birds
“a poem should be wordless
as the flight of birds.”
—Archibald Macleish, Ars Poetica.
birds don’t sing in their flight
for them flying is a muse
they compose mid-air
weave agnostic verse
sneering haughtily at our absurdity
as they float over our meaningless mosques and churches
and those patrolled international borders
and other disputed sites
where the guns go bang bang bang all the time
they swing over there losing their birdegos
(ego is difficult to retain in mid-flight)
wondering about and watching men plucking out
and quashing the lives of other men and women and
poor helpless children and they
shed a birdtear or two from there
a birdtear that is lost midway due to heat of some explosion
down below some crazy fanatical bomb detonating
killing instantly the people and the city and the forests
and even the pitiable babybirds who are yet to learn to fly
they contemplate of writing poems
about a bird’s egg charring
before even being boiled and scratch their beaks
unsure if this is a metaphor or simile or other poetic device
o the birds have lots and lots and lots to write about
o their writings will never be banned
they borrow freedom
to write poems in the sky
they come back and
pass it on to us
we take the song only
brutally
but at least we take the song
to take the poem
to unscramble the words from the song and to put it back again
as song so spontaneously that it remains the poem and the song
to remember forever this refrain whose melody haunts us
and to hum that refrain which preserves our sanity
perhaps we need to fly
a trifle aimlessly like birds
or because we are humans
six-sensed creatures with massive egos
and massive superegos and massive egos on the ego
and because of possessing gray matter
what doctors call medulla oblongata
we need to feel with our red hearts
than think with some unlocatable mind
we need to look deeper. . .
into ourselves, into eyes
we need to lose ourselves
then, and only then
the poems will come
silent
wordless
as the flight of birds
(First published in Indian Literature)
poem by Meena Kandasamy
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No more fear
No more fear of survival refuse to live in fear of myself any longer.
No more fear of never being respected or acknowledged by you for who I am.
I will not sarcoma to my fears any longer for I am stronger then I ever dreamed and I will no longer allow my fears to hold me in limbo.
No more screaming in silence or crying with no tears for the end of my silence is here.
No more putting myself through torture for I am ready to heal, my new growth is all around me and I am unsure of what I fear.
No more fear of not being loved for the people who loves themselves has any fear.
No more fear of the unknown for my eyes are wide open and the sky is very clear.
I will only place God Before me for I only exist with him and only he can set me free.
I had fear of being alone, then fear of what could be but I long to face the fears and it does not control me.
No more empty feelings for I know just where to go I will get on my knees, and ask God to bless my soul and take the fear away from me.
No more will I not be heard, if I need to yell or scream it I will say it the way I want but until I am treated right have a voice and I will not have fear of being heard.
No more will I not stand up for me or fear of what was meant to be, no more if being mislead, lost or even feel like I should be dead.
No more of this silly game will I play I love me and maybe you should do the same, I am that woman who has held a family together, who has made you only exit in my world and now no more.
poem by Kimbaline Navas
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Fear
Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive.
Fear of falling asleep at night.
Fear of not falling asleep.
Fear of the past rising up.
Fear of the present taking flight.
Fear of the telephone that rings in the dead of night.
Fear of electrical storms.
Fear of the cleaning woman who has a spot on her cheek!
Fear of dogs I've been told won't bite.
Fear of anxiety!
Fear of having to identify the body of a dead friend.
Fear of running out of money.
Fear of having too much, though people will not believe this.
Fear of psychological profiles.
Fear of being late and fear of arriving before anyone else.
Fear of my children's handwriting on envelopes.
Fear they'll die before I do, and I'll feel guilty.
Fear of having to live with my mother in her old age, and mine.
Fear of confusion.
Fear this day will end on an unhappy note.
Fear of waking up to find you gone.
Fear of not loving and fear of not loving enough.
Fear that what I love will prove lethal to those I love.
Fear of death.
Fear of living too long.
Fear of death.
I've said that.
poem by Raymond Clevie Carver
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Sunny Days
Sunny Days, Grandma would say
makes the birds sing, songs it brings
melodies of happier times, just for a dime
dancing and dressing fancy
a Symphony from the trees
a picnic under the tree
we sing, we dance
love the sunny days
from walks to talks
children play
to listen to the song of birds
bring love to the sun
enjoyable time
oh sunny days
poem by Michael Peterson
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Faithful Eckart
"OH, would we were further! Oh, would we were home,
The phantoms of night tow'rd us hastily come,
The band of the Sorceress sisters.
They hitherward speed, and on finding us here,
They'll drink, though with toil we have fetch'd it, the beer,
And leave us the pitchers all empty."
Thus speaking, the children with fear take to flight,
When sudden an old man appears in their sight:
"Be quiet, child! children, be quiet!
From hunting they come, and their thirst they would still,
So leave them to swallow as much as they will,
And the Evil Ones then will be gracious."
As said, so 'twas done! and the phantoms draw near,
And shadowlike seem they, and grey they appear,
~Yet blithely they sip and they revel
The beer has all vanish'd, the pitchers are void;
With cries and with shouts the wild hunters, o'erjoy'd,
Speed onward o'er vale and o'er mountain.
The children in terror fly nimbly tow'rd home,
And with them the kind one is careful to come:
"My darlings, oh, be not so mournful!--
"They'll blame us and beat us, until we are dead."--
"No, no! ye will find that all goes well," he said;
"Be silent as mice, then, and listen!
"And he by whose counsels thus wisely ye're taught,
Is he who with children loves ever to sport.
The trusty and faithful old Eckart.
Ye have heard of the wonder for many a day,
But ne'er had a proof of the marvellous lay,--
Your hands hold a proof most convincing."
They arrive at their home, and their pitchers they place
By the side of their parents, with fear on their face,
Awaiting a beating and scolding.
But see what they're tasting: the choicest of beer!
Though three times and four times they quaff the good cheer
The pitchers remain still unemptied.
The marvel it lasts till the dawning of day;
All people who hear of it doubtless will say:
"What happen'd at length to the pitchers?"
In secret the children they smile, as they wait;
At last, though, they stammer, and stutter, and prate,
And straightway the pitchers were empty.
And if, children, with kindness address'd ye may be,
Whether father, or master, or alderman he,
Obey him, and follow his bidding!
And if 'tis unpleasant to bridle the tongue,
Yet talking is bad, silence good for the young--
And then will the beer fill your pitchers!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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In Summer Time
When summer time has come, and all
The world is in the magic thrall
Of perfumed airs that lull each sense
To fits of drowsy indolence;
When skies are deepest blue above,
And flow'rs aflush,--then most I love
To start, while early dews are damp,
And wend my way in woodland tramp
Where forests rustle, tree on tree,
And sing their silent songs to me;
Where pathways meet and path ways part,--
To walk with Nature heart by heart,
Till wearied out at last I lie
Where some sweet stream steals singing by
A mossy bank; where violets vie
In color with the summer sky,--
Or take my rod and line and hook,
And wander to some darkling brook,
Where all day long the willows dream,
And idly droop to kiss the stream,
And there to loll from morn till night--
Unheeding nibble, run, or bite--
Just for the joy of being there
And drinking in the summer air,
The summer sounds, and summer sights,
That set a restless mind to rights
When grief and pain and raging doubt
Of men and creeds have worn it out;
The birds' song and the water's drone,
The humming bees' low monotone,
The murmur of the passing breeze,
And all the sounds akin to these,
That make a man in summer time
Feel only fit for rest and rhyme.
Joy springs all radiant in my breast;
Though pauper poor, than king more blest,
The tide beats in my soul so strong
That happiness breaks forth in song,
And rings aloud the welkin blue
With all the songs I ever knew.
O time of rapture! time of song!
How swiftly glide thy days along
Adown the current of the years,
Above the rocks of grief and tears!
'Tis wealth enough of joy for me
In summer time to simply be.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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I Witness
Across the desert of the burning dark, a
Darkness which illuminates you,
Theres a place youve always wanted to be,
Whose pleasures always did escape you,
Its always been so out of reach, nothing, so near
Ever felt so far
And now its here within your grasp, a never
Ending burning says it all.
Chorus:
As you drive into the darkness, in front the future
Behind you history
Caught alone in the dark night, do you think
Thats the way its supposed to be.
You dont believe your eyes, cos all they see is
Lies, oh yeah.
You better run from the holy man, the eyes that
Will are set uppon you,
Listen not to verse and prayer, song that thrill
And voices tempt you
The inner flame has fear of death, never, has
Light ever seemed so dark.
Pilgrims of sabbocracy, hear the hounds of
Heaven, as they bark
Chorus
I witness a time and a place that never dies, still
Frozen in time,
This darkness the only place that I can hide, i
Witness, a dream.
Chorus
I witness a time and a place that never dies, still
Frozen in time,
This darkness the only place that I can hide, i
Witness a dream.
Oh, just a dream.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring
Birds' love and birds' song
Flying here and there,
Birds' songand birds' love
And you with gold for hair!
Birds' songand birds' love
Passing with the weather,
Men's song and men's love,
To love once and forever.
Men's love and birds' love,
And women's love and men's!
And you my wren with a crown of gold,
You my queen of the wrens!
You the queen of the wrens --
We'll be birds of a feather,
I'll be King of the Queen of the wrens,
And all in a nest together.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Alabama Rain
Lazy days in mid-July
Country Sunday mornin's
Dusty haze on summer highways
Sweet magnolia callin'
Chorus:
But now and then I find myself
Thinkin' of the days
That (when) we were walking in
The Alabama rain
Drive-in movies, Friday nights
Drinkin' beer and laughin'
Somehow things were always right
I just don't know what happened
Chorus
We were only kids
But then I've never heard it said
That kids can't fall in love
And feel the same
I can still remember the first time
I told you "I love you"
On a dusty mid-July
Country summer's evenin's
Weepin' willows sang its lullaby
And shared our secret
Chorus
Walking in the Alabama rain
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Romantic Romeo
Melancholy heart wavers
Like a sinking ship
From inward disappointment
Of life plans crumbling
On the unsavory streets
Of urban despair.
I dream of brushing
A beautiful woman’s hair
With the lavish possibilities
Of a millionaire,
But I daily catch curbside coins
Instead of the shimmering diamonds
I desire to place around her throat.
I’m never agitated for long,
Even though I have the empty stare
Of a preoccupied professor
At an archeological dig.
You would find me a sweet lover
In my little shack and poetry bed
Of hopeless resignation.
I know my insignificant place,
But I remain a romantic Romeo nonetheless.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Your God Is Fear
Your god is fear
That all you are
Is all there is
Your god is fear
And nothing more
Of all of this
Your god is fear
Been and gone
in the blink of an eye
Fear of ever breathing
Fear of ever leaving
Fear of ever changing
Forever, for now
Your god is fear
Your god is fear
Your god is fear
Your god is fear
That all you are
Is all there is
Your god is fear
Of nothing more
Than all of this
Your god is fear
Been and gone
In the blink of an eye
Fear of ever choosing it
Fear of ever losing it
Fear of ever playing
Forever, for now
Your god is fear
Your god is fear
Your god is fear
Just for a moment
Feel it inside
Feel it alive
Feel your desire
Feel it catch fire
Feel it inspire
How all you are
Is all there is
Nothing ever moves
In anything
Open your mind
Step out of time
Let yourself die
And your god is
Your god is
Your god...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fear Within
What should I do?
What can I do?
When the fear within is killing me.
I cant sleep, I cant dream
I cant think, I cant scream
Because the fear within is killing me.
I feel like weeping for ever
I feel like sleeping for ever!
Because i feel the fear within will never die!
What is this fear?
Why is this fear?
And why is it killing me!
The fear spreads like cancer
But i cant find an answer
Why is the fear killing me!
The best thing i could do
And the last thing I should do
Is kill the fear before it killed me!
poem by Amit Gunji
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A Mountain Trek
summer is idle, as an African tulip falls
gently on the hillside
the place is quite overlooking an old city
the mountains are brown and empty
at night the moon comes out
a gun bursts sometimes and startles the black birds
on the tree alone beside the long
winding river of Bulawan
the black birds scream calling all
the deep ravines.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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