The Woodpecker
I once a King and chief
Now am the tree-bark’s thief,
Ever ’twixt trunk and leaf
Chasing the prey.
poem by William Morris
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The Stringy-Bark Tree
There's the whitebox and pine on the ridges afar,
Where the iron-bark, blue-gum, and peppermint are;
There is many another, but dearest to me,
And the king of them all was the stringy-bark tree.
Then of stringy-bark slabs were the walls of the hut,
And from stringy-bark saplings the rafters were cut;
And the roof that long sheltered my brothers and me
Was of broad sheets of bark from the stringy-bark tree.
And when sawn-timber homes were built out in the West,
Then for walls and for ceilings its wood was the best;
And for shingles and palings to last while men be,
There was nothing on earth like the stringy-bark tree.
Far up the long gullies the timber-trucks went,
Over tracks that seemed hopeless, by bark hut and tent;
And the gaunt timber-finder, who rode at his ease,
Led them on to a gully of stringy-bark trees.
Now still from the ridges, by ways that are dark,
Come the shingles and palings they call stringy-bark;
Though you ride through long gullies a twelve months you’ll see
But the old whitened stumps of the stringy-bark tree.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Marula tree trunk
Strong winds blow against the Marula tree trunk,
They come with miscellaneous objects,
Light and heavy,
And use them to break the Marula tree trunk,
But nothing happens to the Marula tree trunk,
Light and heavy rains come,
The Marula tree smiles,
For the plentiful rain water will make
It stronger and taller,
Animals come and sleep under and on top
Of the Marula tree,
Lean and rub their itching bodies
Against the Marula tree trunk,
Relieve themselves against it,
But nothing happens to the Marula tree trunk,
The human race use the Marula tree for shade
Against the merciless summer heat of the Limpopo sun,
And eat or make beer with Marula,
But, alas! One vicious human being returned,
And chopped it,
Off goes the faithless Marula tree trunk,
To be scorched by the everlasting home burning fires.
poem by Niki Nicholas Nkuna
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The Leaf And The Tree And The Roots
if i had to write it again
then i had to, as i must
let you fully understand
the true nature of a vine
the way the leaf swerves
with the wind to give itself
to a fateful fall, the one that
completes its existence as
a leaf to a tree, a part of
a whole, the way it must
settle on the ground and
be with the worms and rot
and fulfills the cycle of its
short existence, and by then
it tells the roots, i am a leaf
i am back and you must now
eat everything in me so i can
be with the bark again so i
can be a leaf again to a tree
that holds me back
and then for another time
lets me fall again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Leaves Compared with Flowers
A tree's leaves may be ever so good,
So may its bar, so may its wood;
But unless you put the right thing to its root
It never will show much flower or fruit.
But I may be one who does not care
Ever to have tree bloom or bear.
Leaves for smooth and bark for rough,
Leaves and bark may be tree enough.
Some giant trees have bloom so small
They might as well have none at all.
Late in life I have come on fern.
Now lichens are due to have their turn.
I bade men tell me which in brief,
Which is fairer, flower or leaf.
They did not have the wit to say,
Leaves by night and flowers by day.
Leaves and bar, leaves and bark,
To lean against and hear in the dark.
Petals I may have once pursued.
Leaves are all my darker mood.
poem by Robert Frost
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The Leaf And The Tree
When will you learn, myself, to be
a dying leaf on a living tree?
Budding, swelling, growing strong,
Wearing green, but not for long,
Drawing sustenance from air,
That other leaves, and you not there,
May bud, and at the autumn's call
Wearing russet, ready to fall?
Has not this trunk a deed to do
Unguessed by small and tremulous you?
Shall not these branches in the end
To wisdom and the truth ascend?
And the great lightning plunging by
Look sidewise with a golden eye
To glimpse a tree so tall and proud
It sheds its leaves upon a cloud?
Here, I think, is the heart's grief:
The tree, no mightier than the leaf,
Makes firm its root and spreads it crown
And stands; but in the end comes down.
That airy top no boy could climb
Is trodden in a little time
By cattle on their way to drink.
The fluttering thoughts a leaf can think,
That hears the wind and waits its turn,
Have taught it all a tree can learn.
Time can make soft that iron wood.
The tallest trunk that ever stood,
In time, without a dream to keep,
Crawls in beside the root to sleep.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Thief! ! !
You are a thief
THIEF, THIEF, THIEF
Thief from bones and soul
Thief till dust and ash
THIEF, THIEF, THIEF
Thief who steals and shouts
Thief who cheats and hides
You have a pride
A pride of THIEF
You have an ethic
An ethic of THIEF
You have rules
Rules of THIEF
You take what you want
And run from everyone
Irresponsible about what you’ve done
Leave this mess to be blown
THIEF, THIEF, THIEF
There’s nothing real
From your belonging
You’re just a thief
And why I should follow a thief
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Treecreepers
Elusive birds them one don't often see
Treecreepers build their cup shaped nest of bark behind loose bark of tree
From predators concealed and hidden away
And pinkish spotted eggs the female lay.
Shy woodland birds of humans they show respectful fear
They climb tree trunks in search of insects and when human to them venture near
Of the tree trunk they disappear to the other side
Of watchers eyes they'd much prefer to hide.
They will never be renowned as birds of song
Though their familiar chirps one hardly could get wrong
The ornithologists and bird watchers on studying them don't spend much of their time
And they seldom have inspired the poets to rhyme.
From the day they leave the nest until the day they die
From ground up they climb the tree and then to the next tree fly
To climb again in search of invertebrates such things they like to eat
They must have great strength in their tiny feet
In wooded places they like to reside
And from predators their cup shaped nest they hide
Shy little birds when human to them venture near
To the other side of the tree trunk they disappear.
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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Kingdom Of The Owl
curled into the trunk
of an old woman tree,
listening to the owl,
and sleeping in the shade.
arms outstretched,
as if touching the sky,
roots deep in the earth,
swaying with the wind.
bark to bark,
he and she intertwine...
till only one remains.
seasons put down and lost
in the steady and sure,
waiting on moonlight and darkness
in the kingdom of the owl!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Tree Of Dreams
My mind is a tree of growing dreams
It seems like it produces more each day
But with every day that passes
There is also a forgotten one
When you add all the forgotten ones
you get a tree that is dry
A tree with many rings
but with one leaf
One green leaf that appears
every day but also dries up
when the next day comes
When a tree only has one leaf
no one really looks at it
It is a tree with no ambition
A tree with only one dream
No one wants a tree with one dream
especially if it is never fulfilled
poem by Cokbod Lodwogo
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Rue Family
April makes no difference
to the Lavalle cork tree
imported from central Japan;
to the Sakhalin cork,
its diamond bark
rising into branches
from a trunk of plated sand.
In the city park, this family of trees
wears its rue as buds
traveled into leaf each year—
predictably, invisibly,
as your sister wears hers
on a South Dakota highway:
there behind her knee, tempering
the air above her hand.
poem by Christina Pugh
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The Tree And The Butterfly
what i love to see in you
is when you become a huge tree
rooted upon a
muted grass hill
above you is a black cloud
making rain
your leaves are all wet
and your roots are drinking so much water
your bark is thick and your
trunk so hard and strong
and she is there the frail butterfly
clinging softly
beneath the big leaf
fragile and steady
what i love next is when the rain stops
and then the butterfly leaves you
helpless and sad and so poetic.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Crown
The crown is up in smoke,
One tells lies to the queen with a backstroke.
It flies, it ties with birds of prey,
To be hunted, the thief is to say;
But he is to be king and man of steel,
The very man who wins and fools like a meal.
The stealer is a criminal of repute,
To be a kingly man he is astute.
The queen lied to the king,
The king vanished like a sting.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Giving Tree
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, 'Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy.'
'I am too big to climb and play' said
the boy.
'I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?'
'I'm sorry,' said the tree, 'but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy.'
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, 'Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy.'
'I am too busy to climb trees,' said the boy.
'I want a house to keep me warm,' he said.
'I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?'
' I have no house,' said the tree.
'The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy.'
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
'Come, Boy,' she whispered,
'come and play.'
'I am too old and sad to play,'
said the boy.
'I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?'
'Cut down my trunk
and make a boat,' said the tree.
'Then you can sail away...
and be happy.'
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
'I am sorry, Boy,'
said the tree,' but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone.'
'My teeth are too weak
for apples,' said the boy.
'My branches are gone,'
said the tree. ' You
cannot swing on them - '
'I am too old to swing
on branches,' said the boy.
'My trunk is gone, ' said the tree.
'You cannot climb - '
'I am too tired to climb' said the boy.
'I am sorry,' sighed the tree.
'I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry....'
'I don't need very much now,' said the boy.
'just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired.'
'Well,' said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
'well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.'
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Thief
Thief is a thief and
Eho is not a thief.
The king also could not
Arrived at the answer
And let the thief free.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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A Forgotten Word And Person
Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief.
That old saying forgot to say thief.
For there's more of them
than any of the others.
They steal from everyone,
even their own mothers.
Now here in America
people are buyin' guns,
even those mothers
who are fearin' their own sons.
Now the sun still shines
and the stars are in the sky.
The doctors and the lawyers
are wonderin' why
everyone's lookin' at them
as if they are a thief?
and no one even cares about
the Indian Chief.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Leaf
A single season of life
Borne of spring’s dew, released on fall’s winds
Great oak’s life running through its veins
To the forest, a gift of motion and color
Great tree, expanding out, gripping its earth
Dancing slowly in the currents of time
In an instant, illusions of stillness
Basking in brilliant sunshine
Flowing feathers in the music of the night
Silt carried by water
Returning to roots once more
Trunk, branches, ever thinner, expansive
Ever softer, edges of fragility
Branches holding mirrors for tree’s image
From the tree, our image of leaf
From the leaf, our image of tree
Leibniz' monad reflecting the whole
poem by George Kassabgi
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U Thief, U Stole My Heart
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the grief, i am torn all apart
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the brief encounter, i should have known it would b
bad from the start
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the relief, i don't have 2 let u in, I guess even though
i will b lonely, i win
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the belief, y do i dare, y do i even care
U thief, U stole my heart
Oh, the mischief, i saw the signs, but i chose not 2 read
between the lines
U thief, U stole my heart
Like the falling leaf, i will just have 2 make a new start
poem by Wendy A. Bartko
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In modern way
If king turns perpetrator and thief
What can be expected from him as chief?
Entire kingdom may go bankrupt
Whole business may come to halt and disrupt
Today it is repeated in modern way
Politicians are turning as thief and taking away
National wealth out from country
To make it sure for comfortable stay in another country
What happens if protector turns perpetrator?
Villain is showing teeth and turns actor
What the life can turn into in the long run?
Nothing but simple farce and full of fun
There is saying about Dala Tawadi"*
An occasional thief visited vaadi*(farm house)
He himself asked "can I pick one watermelon or more'?
The replied by him self" why less take as much as you want or more"
Finally farmer noticed regular theft attempts
He decided to catch thief and vigil was kept
He heard thief repeating same
He tied him with rope and dipped in water
How many dips you want in water?
One, two, three or more
Thief got sense and immediately apologized
Here everybody is busy and not at all realized
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Thief Without The Take
(i.lorre/j.buckley)
Jeff duets with inger lorre and plays guitar on this song, contained in inger lorres album trascendental medication.
Oh baby didnt you hear?
Im goin solo dear,
So low dear
I am the thief without the take
Im swallowing the bitterest pill
Totally ever so against my will
I am the thief without the take,
I am the thief without the take,
Everytime I try to do my art
Always fallin apart,
Fallin apart
I am the thief without the take,
I am the thief without the take,
Im the desert without sun
Five minus one diamond without shine
Im the poem that doesnt rhyme
Im the king on the hill
Sick and ill
Nothin I wouldnt trade to be the serving knave
Im the sun without heat
The drum without the beat
Im the winter without snow
Flame without a glow
I am the thief without the take,
I am the thief without the take
Everytime I try to do my art
Always fallin apart,
Fallin apart
I am the thief without the take,
I am the thief without the take
Ive stolen from myself too too long
Its just the music makes me want to go on
I am the thief without the take
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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