Mother Nature Steals
It’s front page news: Mother Nature steals
sand by the lorry-load from a Cornish beach:
Tons of the golden quartz are carried off
each year by the delinquent sea.
Dark undercurrents and unruly tides
with storms and freak waves vandalize
the coastline and demolish concrete walls
gratuitously. Surely, there must be a law
to stop the unkempt waters, to prevent
this savage onslaught of the elements!
While sand disappears, exposing ugly rocks,
Steadily the flow of tourists drops.
Unperturbed, the Atlantic gnaws away
At the cliffs around Mount’s Bay,
changing the appearance of
our favourite Beauty Spots,
eroding roads, hindering motorists,
this is bad for business!
We won’t have it, we fight back
keeping Nature well in check.
If that means more concrete walls –
so be it, for One and All!
poem by NurViktoria Ellen
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A Place To Sit
Smoochers and snoggers, and resting joggers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Ramblers and walkers, and street hawkers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Mini’s and Roller’s, and lady strollers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Old folk and young folk, and dogs with no folk
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Market traders and cavers, and money savers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Children that play who meet everyday
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Students and teachers, and lay preachers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Loose women and boys the ‘for sale’ toys
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Addicts and dealers, and police squealers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Dogs out for a pee who can’t find a tree
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Drunks in the night who like to fight
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Spray painters and doodlers, and bench abusers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Vandals and hooligans, and booted ruffians
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Demolishers and breakers, and obliterators
never stopped until they destroyed this concrete bench.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Nature Will Reclaim
Silent rain gently falls
Just as the moonlight quietly calls
Calls to the withering nature around
Concrete replaces soft tender ground
Cities take over, buildings rise
Nature escapes us, hiding from man
Resorts cover cliffs, shadowing the sand
The world warms, ice capes melt
Mankind is slowly killing itself
One day nature will revolt
Flowers will bloom, feathers molt
Birds will cry out, soaring the sky
Shrubs will grow, weeds shoot high
Nature will return, crushing our hopes to dust
Reclaiming the streets, smothering us
Creeep and crawl to take our towns
Regrow on asphalt, wind around
Cover windows, turn concrete to gloom
Nature will spell out mankinds doom
poem by Trina Johnson
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Sonnet: Nature Is More Powerful
Who can prevent the clouds from sailing past,
Across the Moon’s most splendid, golden face?
Who can prevent the wind from blowing fast,
Across the treeless, sandy desert’s place?
Who can prevent the ocean’s rising tre, nd
The endless dashing waves upon the shore?
Who can prevent the scorching Sun or bend,
The Sunbeam’s from striking the earth before?
All nature’s ways are far from man’s control;
The human race is one in her eyesight;
To reset Nature should not be man’s goal;
Nature is kind and does things always right.
’Tis man who builds his walls between neighbors!
A heart of envy, malintent harbors.
poem by John Celes
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Boat On The River (Frankfurt 2000)
Take me back to my boat on the river
I need to go down, I need to come down
Take me back to my boat on the river
And I won't cry out anymore
Time stands still as I gaze in her waters
She eases me down, touching me gently
With the waters that flow past my boat on the river
So I don't cry out anymore
Oh the river is wide
The river it touches my life like the waves on the sand
And all roads lead to Tranquillity Base
Where the frown on my face disappears
Take me down to my boat on the river
And I won't cry out anymore
Oh the river is deep
The river it touches my life like the waves on the sand
And all roads lead to Tranquillity Base
Where the frown on my face disappears
Take me down to my boat on the river
I need to go down, won't you let me go down
Take me back to my boat on the river
And I won't cry out anymore
And I won't cry out anymore
And I won't cry out anymore
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where people live in the concrete jungle
Where people live in the concrete jungle
with apartments as their property
and no one knows of grass or flowers
or any natural life source
lorries drive the whole time with ton upon ton
of rocks and sand to construction sites that amazes.
Where people live in the concrete jungle
with apartments as their property
they see nothing of nature from their balconies
while just more and more arrives in the city,
disguised from the essence of existence,
with only the charm of the rays of the sun,
where people live in the concrete jungle.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Boat On The River
Take me back to my boat on the river
I need to go down, I need to come down
Take me back to my boat on the river
And I wont cry out any more
Time stands still as I gaze in her waters
She eases me down, touching me gently
With the waters that flow past my boat on the river
So I dont cry out anymore
Oh the river is wide
The river it touches my life like the waves on the sand
And all roads lead to tranquillity base
Where the frown on my face disappears
Take me down to my boat on the river
And I wont cry out anymore
Oh the river is deep
The river it touches my life like the waves on the sand
And all roads lead to tranquillity base
Where the frown on my face disappears
Take me down to my boat on the river
I need to go down, with you let me go down
Take me back to my boat on the river
And I wont cry out anymore
And I wont cry out anymore
And I wont cry out anymore
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Changed Shoreline
The shore where once we played is now so neat,
A mass of pavers, brick walls and concrete;
No blade of grass, no rock, is out of place,
And joggers jog where children used to race.
Where gum trees stood and where rank grasses grew,
Now all is perfect, clean and bright and new,
With paths and painted walls and fairy lights,
It's paradise by day and darkest nights.
A seawall, and a narrow strip of sand,
Is all that separates the sea from land,
And when the tide comes up and swamps the beach,
Right to the wall the ocean's waters reach.
And then the sea sends forth its troops in waves,
To batter at the wall like willing slaves.
They strike it hard and search it for a fault,
And blow by blow these soldiers earn their salt.
And all the while does man these blows repel;
With rock and stone he seeks, the seas to quell,
As order fights against chaotic sea;
A war twixt man's and Nature's harmony.
And in the end we all know who will lose,
But still just for a while will mankind choose
To order this creation to his taste,
Until in time his works are worn to waste.
Copyright © Dennis N. O'Brien,2011 - 2012
poem by Dennis N. O'Brien
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Impenetrable
The bleak black basalt cliffs which form.
A barrier to Atlantic storms
Which sweep in from the open sea.
Are not a place I'd choose to be
When winter storms are at their height
and batter them without respite.
The basalt rocks are obdurate
They stubbornly accept their fate
Although the storms may rage and roar
The cliffs have seen it all before.
Wind driven waves have small effect.
On basalt cliffs which still protect.
Old Ireland from the angry sea.
they do their duty faithfully.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Nothing Gets In Here
Chorus
Walls of concrete
nothing gets in here
Put on that smile
that sheild of safety
Nothing gets in here
so this heart won't break
nothing gets in here
Verse 1
It's tomorrow
just another day
And if I don't fall
tears will never again escape
Keep distance
isn't it better-without the pain
Verse 2
Slip away-before it's too late
I can see beyond the eyes
to those secrets-you try to hide
This ain't love-it's touch me
before the next sun rise
then you're gone-when morning comes
Chorus
Walls of shadowed concrete
nothing gets in here
Put on that smile
that sheild of safety
Nothing gets in here
so this heart won't break
nothing gets in here
Verse 3
been there before
not again-I've laid in that bed
of loneliness and misery
Holding on and letting go
hoping for more than I could ever know
more than these pooling tears deep inside
Chorus
Walls of shadowed concrete
nothing gets in here
Put on that smile
that sheild of safety
Nothing gets in here
so this heart won't break
nothing gets in here.....
****Check out: www.myspace.com/tragicpoet1966
poem by Daniel Wittfoth
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Freak Of Nature
Freak
Freak
Freak
Freak
I need psychiatric therapy
I could use a lobotomy
Guess I'll never learn
Suppose I'll always be a worm
Freak of nature
Freak of nature
Freak of nature
Freak of nature
Got a ten inch erection
A pimply complexion
Man I got problems
song performed by by Ramones from Animal Boy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Behind 4 Wallz
Tha screams of broken men crys of lost souls,
With fire runnin through their veins an hearts stone cold.
There is no presence of god between these concrete walls,
In here u got to do what u got to just to maintain,
Havin pleasure 4 a cauple seconds than its turns to pain.
For us time stops but lyfe keeps movin,
Knowin u got to keep playin da game even if seems like ur losin.
Havin all ur hopes an dreams turn to despair an nightmares,
While losin ur mind in a cell an seems like no one really cares.
These 4 walls get smaller every year,
an my hatred grows more bitter wit every unshed tear.
This is how most of us become men,
behind 4 walls knockin on da devils door but he wont even let us in. Stuck between heaven an hell,
wastin away behind 4 walls a concrete cell...
poem by Troublesome Thug
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Were I Born With
Were I born with the gift of poesy I'd write of the beauty I see
The unrivalled beauty of Nature that is everywhere around me
I'd pen my songs to Mother Nature I've loved her since I was a boy
From her people are always learning and lessons from her I enjoy,
I belong to the Goddess of Nature and she is the one I adore
Each day my love for her grows greater I love her now as never before
I feel humans belong to Nature and to her we'll return one day
In the coolness of her dark earthy bosom our remains are destined to lay
So many have great love for Nature and they love her far more than I
They fight to save her trees from deevelopers and they will fight for her until the day that they die
To them she is the one true Goddess yet people like her Seasons come and go
But she is the one who lives forever and her rivers to her oceans flow
were I born with the gift of poesy of Nature I surely would write
her sights and sounds and the scents of her perfume to the senses a source of delight.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On To Something More Concrete
i
i check on the word 'grass'
not in the wikipedia
i check that word outside
i step on the lawn where grass is
i sit upon it and lay my head upon its softness
the grass is cool and comforting
early this morning
ii
i like to check on something more concrete
than what the word signifies
the puffiness of the clouds
the blueness of the skies
the coldness of water
the salt of the sea
how the waves travel and arrive at the shore
i lay my body on the sand
open my eyes to the sky and trace the paths that clouds travel by
i swim to the coldness of the sea and taste with my tongue its salt
i touch the waves
i wait upon the shore and let my hours pass away
iii
this is the earth where i live
where i step upon
it is real, it is never fake
it is as concrete as each word signifies
iv
i speak now to You
Let me thank You for all these
I am alive.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Day
Waking one morning
In a pleasant land,
By a river flowing
Over golden sand:--
Whence flow ye, waters,
O'er your golden sand?
We come flowing
From the Silent Land.
Whither go ye, waters,
O'er your golden sand?
We go flowing
To the Silent Land.
And what is this fair realm?
A grain of golden sand
In the great darkness
Of the Silent Land.
poem by James Thomson
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Our Tropical Paradise
I wonder how many times
we sit at our desk
and look out the window on a sunny day,
wishing we were on a tropical beach
lazing in the sun under a coconut tree
watching the sparkling waters
as they race up the sandy beach.
Having a lazy day with the sand and sea,
enjoying Mother Nature’s beautiful bounty.
A dream maybe,
but a dream to help us through
any storms that may weather our lives,
giving us hope for tomorrow
and the sunny day that might bring.
We look at the blue sky
and the odd white fluffy clouds
that shape into many things,
helped along with warm comforting winds.
Our mind is full of images
that build our favourite dreams
as we while away a few minutes
oblivious to everything.
Daydreaming our fondest dreams
before reality kicks in
and the opalescent workload
on our desk appears once again
to take us away
from our tropical paradise
and implant us back in our reality.
27 February 2009
poem by David Harris
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Railroads And Riverboats
The railroads, and the riverboats, that bred the mighty man
That we read about, and we dream about
The men who built this land
And the farmers and the lumbermen and the men who worked the mills
And the poor hard working miners
Who died inside the hills
While the rivers that flow
Are the blood of our land
And the trucks they keep rumbling
On the great concrete band
And the railroads keep pushing
To be all they once were
And nature is calling
No one's listening to her
And the immigrants, by the boat load, in a dozen different tones
Sang of freedom, in the new land
Climbed the ladder rung by rung
Some to Boston, some to Pittsburg, Philidelphia and St. Paul
And the old ways, led to new days
They were welcome one and all.
While the rivers that flow
Are the blood of our land
And the trucks they keep rumbling
On the great concrete band
And the railroads keep pushing
To be all they once were
And nature is calling
No one's listening to her
With the railroads, and the riverboats, and the bread lines far behind
And the days we sang together
Long gone but still in mind
And the men who, came before us, men who brought us to today
And the story, still unravels, from the dreams of yesterday
While the rivers that flow
Are the blood of our land
And the trucks they keep rumbling
On the great concrete band
And the railroads keep pushing
To be all they once were
And nature is calling
No one's listening to her
And nature is calling,
No one's listening to her
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sand Baggies
Sand, the great barrier we depend
trucked and scooped, our baggies placed.
While Mother Nature flows along
and bides her time testing lines.
We who claim the intelligence,
build our homes at the river's edge
for the beauty of water does allure
and beauty beats down sanity.
And farmers bent on riches more
drain their fields with ditches new
to force the water to flee faster still
so seeds can be planted everywhere.
Now when nature says enough, enough
and sends her waters to reclaim all
we bond together- little ants in kind
and wage our epic war with sand.
Now the only question still to be:
When did evolutionary smarts devolve?
The Sea Grass and The Waves Of The Sea
i went to the beach this afternoon,
the coconut plants that i have planted months ago on the shoreline
have grown taller,
the grasses have spread,
and the shoreline has increase its size
as though the sea is avoiding a confrontation
between sand and
roots,
as though the sand is finally winning against the tide,
the waves are calm,
as though, they miss the leaves of the sea grasses,
unperturbed by the beauty that it has not seen
on the depths of its being,
i wonder, if the feeling is the same
with you, i am the patch of land wanting to own
a part of the sea
you are the sea, and i think, you miss me too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Barefoot In The Sand
Barefoot in the Sand
The beach, I used to walk here often years ago with
my dog- the dog is now dead and it is against the law
for animals to be on beaches- except for seabirds,
only because it isn’t practical to ban them, looks clean
and raked most of it is fenced in and belong to some
hotels. The bathing season hasn’t started I ignore signs
telling me I shouldn’t be here, ignore too a spy camera
mounted on a concrete pole. Ok, I’m too old to make
love in the sand, but I feel sorry for people who can
but are spied on and arrested for enjoying themselves.
Where sea washes sand it is easy to walk I turn and see
my footsteps erased by lazy ripples, it is like I never was
here, and I miss my dog. I will not be back here again
before the fall when the season is over, perhaps by then
there will be barbed wire and armed guards to stop me
seeing the sea I used to know so well.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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You will not rain
I know you will not rain
As you find in it no gain
All our efforts are in vain
Problems follow like in chain
We deserve no mercy and pity
Villages ruined and rushing towards city
No more means and loosing entity
Life at standstill and no more continuity
Little more delay may invite wrath
Hunger all over and terrible deaths
Man will kill man for simple bread
You will be alive but lie will be dead
What is free from you as gift?
For sharing natural wealth we have rift
No one is budging with little shift
We need solution with meaningful lift
Air we have completely polluted
Chemicals and poisons in water diluted
No area we have left for natural intervention
Only destruction and no steps for prevention
Is this all we long for better tomorrow?
Are we prepared to be with nature and grow?
Can we not stop drive to block river’s flow?
If not, then get ready for nature’s blow
All forces combine and add to plight
Misery, hunger, deaths instead of delight
No immediate solutions is within sight
Who will come and suggest steps us right
Many may face ugly death and starvation
What is best means for our salvation?
What are the means for its alleviation?
Prevent unhealthy steps with concrete reconciliation
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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