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A little poem about trees..

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They get up in the morning, toast, marmalade and tea

Sit listening to the Today show, maybe a bit of Radio 3

Then it’s on with Berghaus parka and Merrell walking boots

Charged up phones, and grammar checked signs

They’ve already drawn today’s battle lines

Out the door, off they go

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

Meet up by the plane tree, the one that we’ve named Bill

Talk about yesterday’s arrests, are they in custody still?

Some will be late today, dropping kids off at private schools

Then it’s shout about trees, and get arrested

Protecting house prices cos they’ve invested

Whose Streets, Our Streets, Tally Ho!

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

Meanwhile down in Page Hall, another lad gets stabbed

Another kiddy orphaned, because they thought he’d blabbed

An old man is sectioned, the coppers take him away

A young girl sells herself for a fix, like every other day

And my cousin at just twenty-nine, ends it all for good

We tried to tell the doctors, it was obvious he would

He’d come back from Afghanistan, a total utter mess

He’d not got the help he should for his post-traumatic stress

No, in Page Hall they’re not talking about the trees this Wednesday morn

They’re just coping with the realities of having once been born

 

Ooh, look here’s John and Alice, I think they’ve been away

To their place down in the Vendee, they got back yesterday

Hi folks, how goes the struggle, still getting stuck in?

I say Alice, what a lovely tan

Now come and scream at this Scottish man

If we do, maybe they’ll go

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

I heard them say on the radio that someone might have lied

Do you think it was Bryan Lodge (did he eat all the pies)?

Oh, John you are so naughty, such a droll and edgy wit

Don’t take our trees you council louse

We might have to look at a council house

That would be bad, I’d feel so low

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

It has to be said, in Burngreave, they don’t understand the fuss

It’s a twenty minute ride away on the number 83 bus

But the kids don’t get clothed by Ralph Lauren, they live their life with hunger

And the facts of life are simple: they’ll die 15 years younger

Than the kids who come from Totley, and holiday in France

Who eat their tea from Waitrose, who benefit by chance

From private education, BUPA, Tennis Clubs

Monday night is football, on Thursday night it’s cubs

Nobody ever shouts for them, takes up their pitiful case

Is it simply that they’re poor, wrong accent, outlook, race?

Or is it much more basic, are we being unkind?

Just that down there in the sewer, they’re out of sight, out of mind

 

I’ve bought a plastic trumpet, going to blow it in the face

Of a security guard from Amey, it will be simply ace

I’ll annoy him and annoy him until he finally pops

He’s had kids at a very young age

Stood on the streets for minimum wage

I don’t care, hear my trumpet blow!

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

This is about democracy, not about being middle class

I mean, just look at Alan, and his wife that chunky lass

They’ve not got good jobs, not got any money

But they inherited the house from Alan’s Mum

She’d spin in her grave seeing what they’ve done

You shouldn’t take our trees away, no

Tree hugger don’t you know?

 

Abbeydale Road still simmers with tensions every night

Young lads with knives are petrified but again, prepared to fight

Some kid, don’t know him, got sanctioned, all a load of fuss

Cos he missed signing on on Thursday, when he didn’t get the bus

It didn’t come cos it was snowing, but the woman doesn’t care

Just another number in the system, another loser sitting there

Get a job, work is good

Get out of this neighbourhood

I can’t. You won’t let me. You’ve sorted your life out

Now you’re pulling up the ladders, so this oafish little lout

Can’t get onto your streets, can never make it there

In fact why would he even think it, why does he even dare?

You’ve gone as far as you can go

You’re pointless don’t you know?

 

Another day all finished, and the police were very rude

Now everyone down London Road, for Azerbaijani

food

We’ll laugh and joke and drink merlot all through this lovely night

Then sleep like babies, and do it again

Whilst four homeless chaps cuddle up to their friends

How did they die, I don’t give a blow!

Tree hugger don’t you know?

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It's not about trees.

I see a very judgmental bored mind in these words.

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Your comments on social justice and tree protesters are two completely separate issues. I don't understand the link. I come from the Manor, but l don't want the trees chopping down around Encliffe Park.

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A fantastic poem, I would have worked a reference to quinoa and/or balsamic vinegar in there, other than that though I give it an A-.

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Someone's interpretation of the negative aspects of human social structure by a Tree hugger doesn't relate to trees at all.

 

If this is a little poem than what size is a normal poem according to this poet?

My poems are tiny.

 

I identify with all social rubbish out there.

Everything reduced to standard pulp.

Who am I? Don't you know?

 

Who cares what others know, first go figure out who you are, then worry about what others think of it.

If you cannot see yourself there is no point in asking others to look at you and ask what they see, is there?

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A fantastic poem, I would have worked a reference to quinoa and/or balsamic vinegar in there, other than that though I give it an A-.
. Totally agree

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They get up in the morning, toast, marmalade and tea

Sit listening to the Today show, maybe a bit of Radio 3

Then it’s on with Berghaus parka and Merrell walking boots

Charged up phones, and grammar checked signs

They’ve already drawn today’s battle lines

Out the door, off they go

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

Meet up by the plane tree, the one that we’ve named Bill

Talk about yesterday’s arrests, are they in custody still?

Some will be late today, dropping kids off at private schools

Then it’s shout about trees, and get arrested

Protecting house prices cos they’ve invested

Whose Streets, Our Streets, Tally Ho!

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

Meanwhile down in Page Hall, another lad gets stabbed

Another kiddy orphaned, because they thought he’d blabbed

An old man is sectioned, the coppers take him away

A young girl sells herself for a fix, like every other day

And my cousin at just twenty-nine, ends it all for good

We tried to tell the doctors, it was obvious he would

He’d come back from Afghanistan, a total utter mess

He’d not got the help he should for his post-traumatic stress

No, in Page Hall they’re not talking about the trees this Wednesday morn

They’re just coping with the realities of having once been born

 

Ooh, look here’s John and Alice, I think they’ve been away

To their place down in the Vendee, they got back yesterday

Hi folks, how goes the struggle, still getting stuck in?

I say Alice, what a lovely tan

Now come and scream at this Scottish man

If we do, maybe they’ll go

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

I heard them say on the radio that someone might have lied

Do you think it was Bryan Lodge (did he eat all the pies)?

Oh, John you are so naughty, such a droll and edgy wit

Don’t take our trees you council louse

We might have to look at a council house

That would be bad, I’d feel so low

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

It has to be said, in Burngreave, they don’t understand the fuss

It’s a twenty minute ride away on the number 83 bus

But the kids don’t get clothed by Ralph Lauren, they live their life with hunger

And the facts of life are simple: they’ll die 15 years younger

Than the kids who come from Totley, and holiday in France

Who eat their tea from Waitrose, who benefit by chance

From private education, BUPA, Tennis Clubs

Monday night is football, on Thursday night it’s cubs

Nobody ever shouts for them, takes up their pitiful case

Is it simply that they’re poor, wrong accent, outlook, race?

Or is it much more basic, are we being unkind?

Just that down there in the sewer, they’re out of sight, out of mind

 

I’ve bought a plastic trumpet, going to blow it in the face

Of a security guard from Amey, it will be simply ace

I’ll annoy him and annoy him until he finally pops

He’s had kids at a very young age

Stood on the streets for minimum wage

I don’t care, hear my trumpet blow!

Tree hugger, don’t you know?

 

This is about democracy, not about being middle class

I mean, just look at Alan, and his wife that chunky lass

They’ve not got good jobs, not got any money

But they inherited the house from Alan’s Mum

She’d spin in her grave seeing what they’ve done

You shouldn’t take our trees away, no

Tree hugger don’t you know?

 

Abbeydale Road still simmers with tensions every night

Young lads with knives are petrified but again, prepared to fight

Some kid, don’t know him, got sanctioned, all a load of fuss

Cos he missed signing on on Thursday, when he didn’t get the bus

It didn’t come cos it was snowing, but the woman doesn’t care

Just another number in the system, another loser sitting there

Get a job, work is good

Get out of this neighbourhood

I can’t. You won’t let me. You’ve sorted your life out

Now you’re pulling up the ladders, so this oafish little lout

Can’t get onto your streets, can never make it there

In fact why would he even think it, why does he even dare?

You’ve gone as far as you can go

You’re pointless don’t you know?

 

Another day all finished, and the police were very rude

Now everyone down London Road, for Azerbaijani

food

We’ll laugh and joke and drink merlot all through this lovely night

Then sleep like babies, and do it again

Whilst four homeless chaps cuddle up to their friends

How did they die, I don’t give a blow!

Tree hugger don’t you know?

 

Hit the nail on the head there. Very good.

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Have a go at this one.....

 

Oi! Don't chop down my trees,

I like to hear them russlin in the breeze,

In the summer, the pollen makes me sneeze,

Don't chop down my trees.

 

What ya doin with all that wood?

I hope you doin somthin good,

is the new tree that you plant

same as the one you made vacant? (sorry)

or is it somethin cheaper

like a sycamore or a creeper

 

You say the old tree can cause harm

Don't belong on the street, belong on a farm

 

Now you take away the shade

that the tree has made

You take away the houses for the birds and the mouses

you open up the sky, let in the light

 

But the street is bare...

"Oi! you up there."

Don't take away my trees

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Have a go at this one.....

 

Oi! Don't chop down my trees,

I like to hear them russlin in the breeze,

In the summer, the pollen makes me sneeze,

Don't chop down my trees.

 

What ya doin with all that wood?

I hope you doin somthin good,

is the new tree that you plant

same as the one you made vacant? (sorry)

or is it somethin cheaper

like a sycamore or a creeper

 

You say the old tree can cause harm

Don't belong on the street, belong on a farm

 

Now you take away the shade

that the tree has made

You take away the houses for the birds and the mouses

you open up the sky, let in the light

 

But the street is bare...

"Oi! you up there."

Don't take away my trees

 

That's a poem about trees.

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It's about a little more than trees though isn't it- as anyone who bothers to read the issue would now know.

 

Why you've got so much time to write a 'poem' about people who are willing to risk prosecution to protect the neighborhoods they live is beyond me.

 

No time to write about anything about the corruption of Amey or the state of the council though?

 

It beats me why people mock the tree protesters- if you don't agree with them, fair enough (although I find it very strange why anyone would want to see healthy trees felled that don't need to be). But why mock people who are doing something, for no personal gain, to highlight the PFI deals, the lies, and the breakdown of democracy across the City to the wider country and indeed the world?

 

There's plenty of things worth mocking and railing against in the world- people protesting at a greedy and corrupt multinational company isn't one of them.

Edited by paula4sheff

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Have a go at this one.....

 

Oi! Don't chop down my trees,

I like to hear them russlin in the breeze,

In the summer, the pollen makes me sneeze,

Don't chop down my trees.

 

What ya doin with all that wood?

I hope you doin somthin good,

is the new tree that you plant

same as the one you made vacant? (sorry)

or is it somethin cheaper

like a sycamore or a creeper

 

You say the old tree can cause harm

Don't belong on the street, belong on a farm

 

Now you take away the shade

that the tree has made

You take away the houses for the birds and the mouses

you open up the sky, let in the light

 

But the street is bare...

"Oi! you up there."

Don't take away my trees

 

Love this one which really is about trees, which is more than can be said of the first post, which would be better described as a bitter jealous rant.

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A great poem, using the tree issue to explain NIMBYISM.

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