Our Domain
Twelve trees out back....our forest thick,
a place to fantasize,
and Tarzan’s jungle it became
beneath those summer skies,
where I was Jane. We’d swing from trees
on knotted rope grape vines,
and roar our warbling jungle calls
within the yard’s confines,
or putt putt golf course. Using bricks
and orange juice cans, we built
our nine holed run with obstacles
there in the root bound silt,
and charged our friends five pennies each
to play the shaded course
with plastic clubs and Wiffle balls
from five and dime resource.
We built a town of boards and bricks.
Our domain we’d convert,
traversing with our match box cars
those streets we carved from dirt.
A holly tree was my retreat
from teasing brothers fled.
I’d dream there in my smooth barked lair
and often times I read
of Cherry Ames or Vickie Barr.
To their worlds I’d retire
and ponder possibilities
of futures to aspire.
This was our kingdom and we reigned
'neath sassafras and elm.
Three city kids each summer ruled
this shady perfect realm
poem by B.V. Dahlen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Summer Yard
Twelve trees out back our forest deep
a place to fantasize,
and Tarzan’s jungle it became
Beneath those summer skies,
where I was Jane. We’d swing from trees
on knotted rope grape vines,
and roar our warbling jungle calls
within the yard’s confines,
Or putt putt golf course using bricks
and orange juice cans, we built
our nine holed run with obstacles
there in the root bound silt
and charged our friends five pennies each
to play the shaded course
with plastic clubs and Wiffle balls
from five and dime resource.
We built a town of boards and bricks
our domain we’d convert
traversing with our match box cars
those streets we carved from dirt
A holly tree was my retreat
From teasing brothers fled
I’d dream there in my smooth barked lair
and often times I read
Of Cherry Ames or Vickie Barr
to their worlds I’d retire
and ponder possibilities
of futures to aspire
This was our kingdom and we reigned
Neath sassafras and elm
Three city kids each summer ruled
This shady perfect realm
poem by B.V. Dahlen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You know, when I was a young boy I used to play baseball in my back yard or in the street with my brothers or the neighborhood kids. We used broken bats and plastic golf balls and played for hours and hours.
quote by Robin Yount
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Dream Is True
The midnight streets
Howl viciously
Like a wild cat
In the jungle vines
Of disintegrating minds,
But you and I can smile
In the soft rain,
We’ll be together
When the summer flowers
Exude perfume.
On a lilac afternoon,
I will kiss your
Adorably gorgeous stomach
With a sleeping child within
Counting the days
Until she excitedly
Enters the world
Of possibilities.
Your invisible wings
Are angelic and sweet,
We’ll go to heaven
On floating umbrellas
Laughing carefree prayers.
Never linger and cry
Beneath streetlights
On the city’s unhappy avenues,
Come home with me,
Every dream is true.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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No Place To Run
Joey rides the subway
Fast from east to west
On the street hes number one
Some say that hes the best
Got something going on
In a honkey tonk down town
He is expected
Word has got around
The other-side of midnight
Or in the combat zone
Meeting no resistance
Joe stands alone
Night riders prowling
Out into the night
Theres someone else out there
And theyre looking for a fight
Between the rain soaked buildings
A distant whistle blows
Fate lies in waiting
Its hand it never shows
* heart beating like a drum
Out in this wasteland
And theres no place baby for us to run
(in) jungle land (baby)
Jungle land, jungle land
Jungle land. jungle land
Under the railway arches
Someone calls his name
Streams out the words
Come on boy this aint no game
One flash of bright cold stsel
In a strangers hand
Kids dance away like shadows
Theres no one to command
Joeys got his name
Pairited on the wells
On the side of buses
Subways and tenement halls
(repeat *)
Jungle land, jungle land
Jungle land, jungle land
Jungle land, jungle land
Jungle land, jungle land
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Distinguish A Farm From A Forest
the child in her cannot yet
distinguish a farm from a forest
that having seen for the first time
a bunkhouse beneath those coconut trees
she told her mommy that
they are now in the forest and that
she plans to write about
tarzan and jane,
and the monkeys and tigers,
sometimes i miss kids and sometimes
i think i could have been a better teacher
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Forests of the Heart
Deep within the forests of the heart,
Resides a town lit by fireflies.
Dwellings built within the trees,
All beneath the starry skies.
Homely lights amongst the foliage,
Bridges and ladders a plenty.
Rustling leaves cure the soul,
As the beams creak gently.
Hark, the herald sparrow sings!
It twitters from Oak's limb.
The river gurgles round the bend,
And along it the fish do swim.
But with the song of the stream,
comes the whisper of the trees.
With the tale of the undergrowth,
Comes the ballad of the breeze.
The moonlight reaches the forest floor,
To show the fairies atop the stools.
With leaves for their rowboats,
They sail across the silver pools.
Deep within the forests of the heart,
Resides a town lit by fireflies.
Dwellings built within the trees,
All beneath the starry skies.
poem by Stephanie Dower
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Brother, Can You Spare A Dime
Once I built a railroad...made it run
Made it race against time
Once I built a railroad...now it's done
Brother, can you spare a dime
Once I built a tower...to the sun
Bricks...rivet...and lime
Once I built a tower...now it's done
Brother, can you spare a dime
Once in cocky suits
Gee, we looked swell
Full of that Yankee Doodle-dom
Half a million boots..they went
slogging through Hell
And I..I was a kid with a drum
Say, don't you remember..
They called me Al
It was Al all the time
Say, don't you remember
I'm your pal
Buddy, can you spare a dime.....
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welcome To The Jungle
Welcome to the jungle, jim
Welcome to the jungle, jim
Welcome to it, jim
Welcome to the jungle, anne
Welcome to the jungle, dan
Welcome to it, john
Think youre gonna like
I think youre gonna like it
Once youve given the jungle a chance
Think youre gonna like it
Once youve given it a chance
In the jungle
In the jungle
In the jungle
Now you will be with me
Put your hand in my hand
Lift up the rock and see all the things
That share the jungle with us
Welcome to the
Welcome to the
Trees
Trees
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face
Didnt really like
I didnt really like
The last time when you pushed me in the face
Didnt really like
The last time when you pushed my face
In the jungle
In the jungle
In the jungle
Now you will be with me
Put your hand in my hand
Lift up the rock and see all the things
That live in the jungle with us
Put your hand near the bug
We are so much like them
See how the bug reacts to your hand
In the same way as I do
Notes
The dial-a-song version has substantial differences:
Welcome to the jungle, jim
Welcome to the jungle, jim
Welcome to it, jim
Welcome to the jungle, anne
Welcome to the jungle, dan
Welcome to it, john
Think youre gonna like
I think youre gonna like it
Once youve given the jungle a chance
Think youre gonna like it
Once youve given it a chance
In the jungle
In the jungle
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle, diane
I think youre gonna like your brown safari hat
Welcome to the trees
Welcome to the trees
Welcome to the jungle, diane
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face
Didnt really like
I didnt really like
The last time when you pushed me in the face
Didnt really like
The last time when you pushed my face
In the jungle
In the jungle
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle, pierre
I think youre gonna like your brown safari hat
Welcome to the trees
Welcome to the trees
And welcome to the jungle, pierre
Jungle, jungle
Jungle, jungle
Jungle, jungle, jungle, jungle
Jungle, jungle, jungle, jungle
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face again
Push me in the face
Didnt really like
I didnt really like
The jungle once youve given it a chance
Didnt really like it
Once youve given it a chance
In the jungle
In the jungle
In the jungle
Welcome to the jungle, diane
Im glad you didnt like your brown safari hat
Welcome to the trees
Welcome to the trees
And welcome to the jungle, diane
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is what summer means to me
A warm summer day
without a cloud in sight
A baby bird
Taking its first flight
This is what summer means to me
Trees full of leaves
Giving me shade
My dad and I
Fishing in the glade
This is what summer means to me
Watching my daughter
Play on her slide
And how She will never
Want to come inside
This is what summer means to me
See how she enjoys the day
Until the very last
Just like me as a child
Long ago in the past
This is what summer means to me
The distant roar
Of a neighbors lawn mower
Unruly grass be gone
For ever more
This is what summer means to me
The smell of charcoal
And good friends all around
Birds singing in the trees
What a lovely sound
This is what summer means to me
© JPM 5/25/2008
The Drowned City
She once bore fruit of exquisite taste
Lemons, apples and bananas
Were eaten by sailors who came by
Her fruits bore life
The trees that she had
Sheltered the citizens from the sun
Now it is gone!
She will be no more
Trucks came by with bricks of stone
They built on her
A city that was cold
She was pushed back into a corner of herself
Eventually she drowned
When people come to visit her on the map
They were blinded by what they saw
They don’t know what lies under the sea
Under the sea lies a city in shock!
The city is no longer there
The city can no longer be
This was Olympus
But now she is I!
poem by Lee John Siebritz
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The 'Poem A Day' Project ~ Day 204
I stand surveying the angles
And slopes of the land
A plan in my mind and a golf club in my hand
The ball is waiting ready
To live its final putt
This shot is gonna happen, I feel it in my gut
I check the wind direction
And condition of the green
I weigh up all the angles, want the shot to be clean
I plant my feet real sturdy
And eye the balls route
I slow my breathing down as I prepare to shoot
I swing the club back slowly
Now going for the kill
But slip and clip the edge of the plastic windmill
poem by Flying Lemming
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The Expatriates
My dear, it was a moment
to clutch for a moment
so that you may believe in it
and believing is the act of love, I think,
even in the telling, wherever it went.
In the false New England forest
where the misplanted Norwegian trees
refused to root, their thick synthetic
roots barging out of the dirt to work on the air,
we held hands and walked on our knees.
Actually, there was no one there.
For fourty years this experimental
woodland grew, shaft by shaft in perfect rows
where its stub branches held and its spokes fell.
It was a place of parallel trees, their lives
filed out in exile where we walked too alien to know
our sameness and how our sameness survives.
Outside of us the village cars followed
the white line we had carefully walked
two nights before toward our single beds.
We lay halfway up an ugly hill and if we fell
it was here in the woods where the woods were caught
in their dying and you held me well.
And now I must dream the forest whole
and your sweet hands, not once as frozen
as those stopped trees, nor ruled, nor pale,
nor leaving mine. Today in my house, I see
our house, its pillars a dim basement of men
holding up their foreign ground for you and me.
My dear, it was a time,
butchered from time
that we must tell of quickly
before we lose the sound of our own
mouths calling mine, mine, mine.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Jesters Dreamers And Thieves
Looking back on younger days the view stretched on for miles
We charged into our futures with laughter and smiles
As we traveled blindly the road became so thick
No chance to change direction and weve laughed until were sick
Now I keep company with wicked evil men
My generositys brimming but Im still inclined to sin
My friends think I am crazy and I know that may be so
But Im as happy with a penny as coffers full of gold
And so for all of you I say, dont miss the forest for all the trees
And dont ever question honor among thieves
The undergrowth has parted now the path is easily read
Its lined with all the doubters regretting all theyve said
God bless all the dreamers and those who lead with soul
For how can you know virtue less you fought out of a hole
And so for all of you I say, dont miss the forest for all the trees
And dont ever question honor among thieves
Trickle of a chuckle as laughter starts to pour
Bells begin to jingle the trickles now a roar
Pan floutist, cloven dancer
The mischief has begun
Laugh with me if its funny, laugh at me if its fun
And I dont know st. peter but I know he believes
Theres a place in heaven for jesters, dreamers & thieves
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jesters, Dreamers, & Thieves
Looking back on younger days the view stretched on for miles
We charged into our futures with laughter and smiles
As we traveled blindly the road became so thick
No chance to change direction and weve laughed until were sick
Now I keep company with wicked evil men
My generositys brimming but Im still inclined to sin
My friends think I am crazy and I know that may be so
But Im as happy with a penny as coffers full of gold
And so for all of you I say, dont miss the forest for all the trees
And dont ever question honor among thieves
The undergrowth has parted now the path is easily read
Its lined with all the doubters regretting all theyve said
God bless all the dreamers and those who lead with soul
For how can you know virtue less you fought out of a hole
And so for all of you I say, dont miss the forest for all the trees
And dont ever question honor among thieves
Trickle of a chuckle as laughter starts to pour
Bells begin to jingle the trickles now a roar
Pan floutist, cloven dancer
The mischief has begun
Laugh with me if its funny, laugh at me if its fun
And I dont know st. peter but I know he believes
Theres a place in heaven for jesters, dreamers & thieves
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deep In The Jungle
Haumbambayahumbambaheyahumbambayahe
You better start thinking, this is not a girl
Believe in yourself then you can make this a nice world
This is the place, that we're livin'in
Enjoy your life, be fair and you will win
Don't fake the truth and say there is nothing
Cause you know so well, there is something
I play no games, I don't tell no lies
I'm in a deep deep jungle, I can see it in your eyes
Haumbambayahumbambaheyahumbambayahe
I'm in the jungle
Haumbambayahumbambaheyahumbambayahe
I'm in the deep deep jungle
Haumbambayahumbambaheyahumbambayahe
I'm in the jungle
Haumbambayahumbambaheyahumbambayahe
I'm in the deep deep jungle
It was great, you know what I mean
I opened my eyes and it was a dream
It's dream, what I'm talking about
From left to the right and that's all without
Without pain, no gain another hit no brain
And by the way the shame it wouldn't be the same
I play no games, I don't tell no lies
I'm in a deep deep jungle, I can see it in your eyes
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Puberty.
When my grandma told me not to go out of the house,
after the oil lamp was lit at six in the evening,
I went out to see the spirits of the wolves on the loose,
but heard the howling far away while she praying.
Grandma thought I was in the study, doing my work,
I was searching for the devils that scared my grandma.
When I returned to tell her that I found nothing,
She blessed me what an obedient girl, always obeying.
When at ten, I was told that there was a black devil,
comfortably renting a Neem tree beside our dwelling,
after everyone was asleep, I went to the tree at twelve,
to find nothing and I was confused and then not believe,
my elders any more. Told them many times,
I have found no spirits and devils,
in the trees, in the farms and the jungle,
They were too tired to teach me what they were taught,
when they had given up the hope on me,
I planted the seeds of awareness in them.
When my elders had the nap after the heavy meal,
we, the children, sneaked out of the house,
to play marbles, hide and seek kites and
snake and ladder. After play we used,
to go to the Garden our king built for his children,
where we found muddy water, fragrant trees and
the Lecherous males who tried to touch our budding breasts.
Then one day our wings were cut off,
by pouring the turmeric water on our heads,
tied the long saree on the slender body,
put the perfect jasmine on our hair,
decorated as the prettiest doll that they could,
We had lost our freedom and,
our elders are awake.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Orange juice
Orange juice mom says drink
When i am sick
It can make me thick
Orange juice i have to pick
licking mom says no
Drinking i have to do
Hate orange juice, mom says i know
Vitamin C it has
And i need to take
for my own sake
Healthy it can make me
Power it can give me
Orange juice
Is all i need
When i am in lead
With the kids at the lake.! :)
poem by michelle al G
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Made Of Stone (808 State Remix)
Your knuckles whiten on the wheel
The last thing that your hands will feel
your final flight can't be delayed
No earth just sky it's so serene
Your pink fat lips let go a scream
You fry and melt I love the scene
Sometimes I fantasize
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Don't these times fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Is anybody home?
I'm standing warm against the cold
Now that the flames have taken hold
At least you left your life in style
And for as far as I can see
Tin twisted grills grin back at me
Bad money dies I love the scene
Sometimes I fantasize
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Don't these times
Fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Is anybody home
Sometimes I fantasize
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Don't these times
Fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Are you made of stone
song performed by by Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If ever I needed an eight foot putt, and everything I owned depended on it, I would want Arnold Palmer to putt for me.
quote by Bobby Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Holly-Tree
O reader! hast thou ever stood to see
The Holly-tree?
The eye that contemplates it well perceives
Its glossy leaves
Ordered by an Intelligence so wise
As might confound the Atheist's sophistries.
Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen,
Wrinkled and keen;
No grazing cattle, through their prickly round,
Can reach to wound;
But, as they grow where nothing is to fear,
Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear.
I love to view these things with curious eyes,
And moralize;
And in this wisdom of the Holly-tree
Can emblem see
Wherewith, perchance, to make a pleasant rhyme, -
One which may profit in the after-time.
Thus, though abroad, perchance, I might appear
Harsh and austere;
To those who on my leisure would intrude,
Reserved and rude;
Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be,
Like the high leaves upon the Holly-tree.
And should my youth - as youth is apt, I know, -
Some harshness show,
All vain asperities I, day by day,
Would wear away,
Till the smooth temper of my age should be
Like the high leaves upon the Holly-tree.
And as, when all the summer trees are seen
So bright and green,
The Holly-leaves their fadeless hues display
Less bright than they;
But when the bare and wintry woods we see,
What then so cheerful as the Holly-tree? -
So, serious should my youth appear among
The thoughtless throng;
So would I seem, amid the young and gay,
More grave than they;
That in my age as cheerful I might be
As the green winter of the Holly-tree.
poem by Robert Southey
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