Related quotes: One feels it here: The...

Grouse Ridge

One feels it here:
The imponderably ancient
Succession of lives,
Rubble of animal vegetable mineral
Tangled in quiet ravines
Or strewn along mountain lakes,
Momentary the green & sentient
Bound the same,
Wind rising and falling,
Ten thousand years.

poem by Craig Steiger
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If neither animal nor vegetable you be, then mineral you are.

Japanese proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crescent Noon

Green september
Burned to october brown
Bare november
Led to decembers frozen ground
The seasons stumbled round
Our drifting lives are bound
To a falling crescent noon
Feather clouds cry
A vale of tears to earth
Morning breaks and
No one sees the quiet mountain birth
Dressed in a brand new day
The sun is on its way
To a falling crescent noon
Somewhere in
A fairytale forest lies one
Answer that is waiting to be heard
You and I were
Born like the breaking day
All our seasons
All our green septembers
Burn away
Slowly well fade into
A sea of midnight blue
And a falling crescent noon

song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Modern Major-General

I am the very pattern of a modern Major-Gineral,
I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral;
I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical,
From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;
I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical,
I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical;
About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news,
With interesting facts about the square of the hypotenuse,
I'm very good at integral and differential calculus,
I know the scientific names of beings animalculous.
In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral.

I know our mythic history - KING ARTHUR'S and SIR CARADOC'S,
I answer hard acrostics, I've a pretty taste for paradox;
I quote in elegiacs all the crimes of HELIOGABALUS,
In conics I can floor peculiarities parabolous.
I tell undoubted RAPHAELS from GERARD DOWS and ZOFFANIES,
I know the croaking chorus from the "Frogs" of ARISTOPHANES;
Then I can hum a fugue, of which I've heard the music's din afore,
And whistle all the airs from that confounded nonsense "Pinafore."
Then I can write a washing-bill in Babylonic cuneiform,
And tell you every detail of CARACTACUS'S uniform.
In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral.

In fact, when I know what is meant by "mamelon" and "ravelin,"
When I can tell at sight a Chassepot rifle from a javelin,
When such affairs as SORTIES and surprises I'm more wary at,
And when I know precisely what is meant by Commissariat,
When I have learnt what progress has been made in modern gunnery,
When I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery,
In short, when I've a smattering of elementary strategy,
You'll say a better Major-GenerAL has never SAT a gee -
For my military knowledge, though I'm plucky and adventury,
Has only been brought down to the beginning of the century.
But still in learning vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I am the very model of a modern Major-Gineral!

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Learning to Play Coltrane

She thought it was green, not
the emerald green of Indian summer
but a green like a darkening plain,
or the shadow rivers cast.
She thought it was light, a glint
or a warning, the shine
at the papery edge
of storm clouds. The way
a voice rising and falling becomes
a premonition, a dampness
at the back of her neck. Or maybe
it was more of an imprint,
a memory of sound, some afternoon
after the circus has left town
and all that remains is a field
strewn with garbage, a music
of pasted stars and ruin.
And she thought of a color
like that, mud-green, the green
of a small sadness, shapeless
as the wind itself. And for a moment
she owned everything inside it,
the light, the field, the wind.

—for Adrian

First published in American Poetry Review.

poem by Silvia Curbelo
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Looking Back At The Greens

i too look back at those green things
from the point of view of my
green thumb
a vegetable garden without an aphid on a leaf
a row of roses, lush green leaves
and red blooms
some petals falling due to the
wind
a line of green mint trees along the path
leading to the highway
sounds of motors threatening what green there is
i come back and settle on this patch
of green meadows
and grass and gray shade
my own shadow cast
on the huge gabi leaf.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Vermillion Stone

The sinuousness of sand dunes
Wind abraded stone
The sun pinwheels
Cross the sky
One feels so all alone

Pictographs on canyon walls
Pottery shards and bone
Distant dancing dust devils
Muted howls and muttered moans

Ancient beds of dry lakes deep
Vermillion cliffs, wind hone
Canyon keeps, spirits sleep
In beds of petrified stone

Time locked tight in grains of sand
In manic tint and tone
Hourglass sifting centuries, and
Mesas flat, wind mown

One feels time locked
In vermillion rock
One feels the ageless sky
The stars, the wind
Without, within

Alone…as you and I

poem by David Whalen
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Diamond Mountain

Wind blows.
Rattled an invocation
two thousand years old
from bronze temple bells.

Brushes a susurrus
from ten thousand oak leaves.

Draws from their branches
the moaning
of two hundred year old wood,
the dry sound
of a long forgotten oboe.

Causes a seventy year old man
on a slatted bench
to tug a scarf across his chest.

Wind drops,
and slips back
into eternal silence
of measured decay.
Wind undefiled
speaking in many voices.

Diamond Mountain is
one hour high,
one hour wide,
one hour deep.
Every hundred years
a small bird comes
and rubs its beak.
When the whole mountain
is quite worn away,
the first second of Eternity
has passed.

poem by Brian Taylor
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God

In the ancient days, when the first quiver of speech came to my lips, I ascended the holy mountain and spoke unto God, saying, 'Master, I am thy slave. Thy hidden will is my law and I shall obey thee for ever more.'

But God made no answer, and like a mighty tempest passed away.

And after a thousand years I ascended the holy mountain and again spoke unto God, saying, 'Creator, I am thy creation. Out of clay hast thou fashioned me and to thee I owe mine all.'

And God made no answer, but like a thousand swift wings passed away.

And after a thousand years I climbed the holy mountain and spoke unto God again, saying, 'Father, I am thy son. In pity and love thou hast given me birth, and through love and worship I shall inherit thy kingdom.'

And God made no answer, and like the mist that veils the distant hills he passed away.

And after a thousand years I climbed the sacred mountain and again spoke unto God, saying, 'My God, my aim and my fulfilment; I am thy yesterday and thou art my tomorrow. I am thy root in the earth and thou art my flower in the sky, and together we grow before the face of the sun.'

Then God leaned over me, and in my ears whispered words of sweetness, and even as the sea that enfoldeth a brook that runneth down to her, he enfolded me.

And when I descended to the valleys and the plains, God was there also.

poem by Khalil Gibran
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Higher Bound

Well, Im easy to love
But Im harder to hold
Down through this earth
My story is told
Im a wheeling and a-winding down
Every road and every town
Im tumbling through the years
Higher bound!
Ive as many eyes
As ever were
And though Im older
Than the world
I am the very youngest thing
That ever did breath upon a pearl
I am a coat of many colours
With the coronation stone and the crown
Im tumbling through the years
Higher bound!
Im the song of the river
Speeding unceasing to the sea
Im alive!
Im in love!
Each and every time
Theres some for me
My head is in the stars
My feet are on the ground
Im tumbling through the years
Higher bound!
I filled the hall
At bru na boine
I saw the rose
Of mystery
Ive been a fish
Upon a coin
Complete
Ill never be...
Ill meet you on the mountain
When the mountain time comes around
Im tumbling through the years
Higher bound!
Im dancing through the years
Higher bound!

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Been Gone

(carly simon/jacob brackman)
The wind is coming up strong and fast
And the moon is smiling on me
Miles from nowhere so small at last
In between the sky and the sea
Im bound for the island
The tide is with me
I think I can make it before dawn
Its night on the ocean
Im going home
And it feels like Ive never
Ive never been gone
Seagulls cry and the hills are green
And my friends are waiting for me
Freat ambition is all a dream
Let me drown my pride in the sea -
Im bound for the ocean
The tide is with me
I think I can make it by dawn
Its night on the ocean
Im going home
And it feels like Ive never
Ive never been gone
Oh it feels like Ive never
Ive never been gone

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And I will never, ever respond to anybody - man, woman, vegetable, or mineral - who tells me to keep my mouth shut.

quote by Janice Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Divided Sky

Ahhh!
Divided sky, the wind blows high
[The divided sky chant is part of an ancient ritual dating back to the
pre-Wilson years of She purity in Gamehendge. After listening to the
sacred sounds for a sloping lawn, three chosen subjects eat a special
root collected at the base of the enormous mountain that rises in the
center of the forest. The root is believed to contain the spirit of
Icculus, who lives at the top of the mountain. After eating the root,
they venture into a vast field at sundown. The field is deep green,
and stretches as far as the eye can see in all directions. In the
center of the field stands an enormous black rhombus. They climb the
rhombus and begin to sing, paying homage to the gods of the night
sky

song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Divided Sky

Ahhh!
Divided sky, the wind blows high
[the divided sky chant is part of an ancient ritual dating back to the
Pre-wilson years of she purity in gamehendge. after listening to the
Sacred sounds for a sloping lawn, three chosen subjects eat a special
Root collected at the base of the enormous mountain that rises in the
Center of the forest. the root is believed to contain the spirit of
Icculus, who lives at the top of the mountain. after eating the root,
They venture into a vast field at sundown. the field is deep green,
And stretches as far as the eye can see in all directions. in the
Center of the field stands an enormous black rhombus. they climb the
Rhombus and begin to sing, paying homage to the gods of the night
Sky.]

song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Journey Into The Interior

In the long journey out of the self,
There are many detours, washed-out interrupted raw places
Where the shale slides dangerously
And the back wheels hang almost over the edge
At the sudden veering, the moment of turning.
Better to hug close, wary of rubble and falling stones.
The arroyo cracking the road, the wind-bitten buttes, the canyons,
Creeks swollen in midsummer from the flash-flood roaring into the narrow valley.
Reeds beaten flat by wind and rain,
Grey from the long winter, burnt at the base in late summer.
-- Or the path narrowing,
Winding upward toward the stream with its sharp stones,
The upland of alder and birchtrees,
Through the swamp alive with quicksand,
The way blocked at last by a fallen fir-tree,
The thickets darkening,
The ravines ugly.

poem by Theodore Roethke
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In the Land of Zephyr...

The wind scooped out the snow,
twirl, splashing the rowan in slumber,
shook its boughs of snow;
to emerald green rife with crimson.

The wind like a sot,
'twixt through woods;

In the woods, spruces of snow,
hailed the wind to mystique umber,
here, with rubble rills row;
here, wild lives in unison.

The wind like a sot,
'twixt through lea, afar woods;

Lea, where near crystal brooks, cows mow,
here, in meadows, mouse grows cucumber,
here, merlins, as I know;
swirls with wind to horizon.

The wind like a sot,
'twixt, aloft heaven, afar woods, afar lea...

poem by Aparna Veeyou
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Song of a Thousand Years

Lift up your eyes desponding freemen!
Fling to the winds your needless fears!
He who unfurl'd your beauteous banner,
Says it shall wave a thousand years!

"A thousand years!" my own Columbia!
'Tis the glad day so long foretold!
'Tis the glad morn whose early twilight
Washington saw in times of old.

What if the clouds, one little moment,
Hide the blue sky where morn appears --
When the bright sun, that tints them crimson,
Rises to shine a thousand years?

Tell the great world those bless-ed tidings!
Yes, and be sure the bondman hears;
Tell the oppress'd of ev'ry nation,
Jubilee lasts a thousand years!

Fearless foes, beyond the ocean!
Little we heed your threat'ning sneers;
Little will they -- our children's children --
When you are gone a thousand years.

Rebels at home! go hide your faces --
Weep for your crimes with bitter tears;
_You_ could not bind the blessed daylight,
Though you should strive a thousand years.

Back to your dens, ye secret traitors!
Down to your own degraded spheres!
Ere the first blaze of dazzling sunshine
Shortens your lives a thousand years.

Haste thee along, this glorious Noonday!
Oh, for the eyes of ancient seers!
Oh, for the faith of Him who reckons
Each of his days a thousand years.

poem by Henry Clay Work
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Tangled In Love

By marcy levy and richard feldman
A modern man with an old-fashioned heart.
One look at her and I fell apart.
I was always the one playing it cool.
I got caught in the act, now theres no turning back.
I got tangled in love, tangled in love.
I got tangled in love, tangled in love.
I got caught up, bought up, strangled, tangled in love.
I got tangled in love, tangled in love.
A long black dress and the call of the wild.
I was a fool to think she was just a child.
Out of my mind, out of control.
Knew that feeling too well, tried to run but I fell.
Chorus
I never meant to feel this way,
Now I always want to stay...
Chorus
I got tangled in love, tangled in love.
I got tangled in love, tangled in love.
I got tangled in love, tangled in love.
I got tangled in love, tangled in love.

song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Languages

There are no handles upon a language
Whereby men take hold of it
And mark it with signs for its remembrance.
It is a river, this language,
Once in a thousand years
Breaking a new course
Changing its way to the ocean.
It is mountain effluvia
Moving to valleys
And from nation to nation
Crossing borders and mixing.
Languages die like rivers.
Words wrapped round your tongue today
And broken to shape of thought
Between your teeth and lips speaking
Now and today
Shall be faded hieroglyphics
Ten thousand years from now.
Sing--and singing--remember
Your song dies and changes
And is not here to-morrow
Any more than the wind
Blowing ten thousand years ago.

poem by Carl Sandburg
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The Mountain and the Wind

The mountain stands
The wind plays with her
Leaving her treetops in disarray
The wind moves on, unaware
Of the rustling gossips
Of him and her.

The mountain stands
The wind serenades her
A sighing song among the leaves
The wind moves on, unaware
Of the thousand songs he gave
Echoing in the bamboo grove of her heart.

The mountain stands
The wind dances around her
A waltz, a tango one eventide
The wind moves on, unaware
Of the face he left behind
Carved forever in her heart.

poem by Angelina Pandian
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Animal Boy

Gonna kill and destroy
I'm not an Animal Boy
Why don't they understand
I'm not an ape man

Don't have brain damage
I'm not an a wild savage
Don't push me around
Don't bring my head down

Animal Boy
Animal Boy
Animal Boy

I'm not an imbecile
Don't treat me like an animal
I'm not a creature in the zoo
Don't tell me what to do