They cut down the trees and then urge the young to plant them again, about how life goes, as if age is just a number, and we no longer believe in power.

They cut down the trees, clear land,
make production, then shop spree for a vision and mission because life only once and needs to be enjoyed, wrapped in a paper bag and then thrown away and become a homeless person's sleeping mat in front of the overhang of shops.

If you end up in what feels like a wasteland,
Make positive change.
Sprinkle seeds of promise,
Grow some trees,
Plant lots of flowers,
Invite the melodious birds,
And awaken spring to the call of renewed hope.

Hussein Dekmak

nothing beats random
tree to halt life momentum
brown leaves on chill ground

I used to work in a factory once with a lot of girls
One day the girls they were talking about this guy who apparently used to **** sheep
They called him a Sheepshagger
Of course being young at the time and coming from a rather sheltered background I suppose
I'd never heard of such a thing, and was well... amazed!!!
Hell I thought, you could really get an education listening to these girls
(I'm in with a fast crowd here)
I didn't know you could **** a sheep,
Just goes to show if you don't know about something you probably won't indulge in it.
Anyway, the girls went on "Typical men, disgusting, a bunch of animals, they'd jump on anything, no better than dogs"
The funny thing was, the way my mind works or turns things around
I couldn't help thinking
'But isn't it a poor reflection on the women of this town
That a guy would rather go out with a sheep
Than go out with one of you guys'
And then I thought, imagine your girlfriend bringing you down to a field
And you're standing there at the gate the two of you
And then she gives you the Big... the Big Ultimatum
"Choose!!! It's Me or the Sheep!
And you look at her with all that intensity and drama on her face
And then you look over the gate at the sheep grazing peacefully and idyllically in the meadow
You look at her and then back at the sheep
The answer to her question in the balance,
Suddenly a ray of sunlight comes down through the heavens
Illuminating one particular sheep
You watch in awe and think... it's... it's the Golden Fleece
You turn to your girl and say
"I got to be true to myself, to my Nature's promptings
Darling! I'll always love you
But those sheep their just so...so irresistible"
And with that you hop over the fence and start running after your favourite sheep
A picture of unbridled Joy and Happiness as you pursue your dream love.....

Y'know, just in passing, there's some very **** looking trees close to where I live
But you gotta be careful, yea! you don't wanna catch the old, the old dry rot.

I was sixteen when the machines came.
The letters “C-A-T” screamed at me from across the street
As the harsh yellow tore at the roots of the
Cherry trees across the street.
Of course the orchard had never been mine,
I had not planted the seeds and curated the
Beautiful blooms through their short lives,
Picked the cherries off the trees myself.
But what about all the photoshoots I’d done
Among the gorgeous white blooms,
All the times my friend had walked through
The rows of trees to get to my house and
Left paint splatters of cherries across the kitchen floor,
All the sunsets I’d seen through the leaves
That made me nostalgic for things
I had never experienced?
What if I’m growing up and moving out
And can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that
These plants that have smiled at me from my
Window for over a decade have returned
To the Earth?
What if these days the
Weeks are crying when they should be glowing and
The absence of trees is simply the target of
One of those odd tricks that sorrow shoots out of the mind
That remind me that change is the only thing that’s
Permanent?
I wish that the emptiness of the field could be replaced by
Happy little white blooms
But instead the CAT machines screech and moan
And all I can feel is
The ache of old nostalgia and the
Peculiar nostalgia of the unknown.

When a leaf stops dancing to the music of life, and the melody of the birds has ceased, it changes to yellow and gently falls off the tree of life.

Hussein Dekmak