We cuddle, we snuggle
\nwe hug and we preen
\nalone in the forest
\nagainst the machine
\nthe great powerful saws
\nteeth as strong as steel
\nthe great well oiled axes
\nthat crash down for real
\ntear through the bark
\ninto the trees
\ntheir cries can be heard
\nas their roots try to seize
\nthe earth in those moments
\nwhen the trunk is afire
\nas a great rush of sap
\ntries to rush higher
\nall those long years
\nwith dramatic renown
\nit searched for the light
\nand it thrust its roots down
\ndeep in the bowels
\nwhere the minerals lie
\nwhere moisture and warmth
\ncame down from the sky
\nup in the canopy where
\ngreat buds sprout
\nand sweet florets of green
\nare what life was about
\nwhere arborial Apes
\nswung on great hairy arms
\nbackwards and forwards
\ntheir leathery palms
\nclutching the boughs
\nand tasting the fruit
\nfreedom was ours
\nlife was such a hoot<\/p>\n
We cuddle, we snuggle we hug
\nand we preen
\nso afraid of the corporate
\ncutting machine
\nthat bites through great
\ntrunks with consummate ease
\ntears out the heart
\nof our makeshift trapeze
\nwe flew in the heavens
\nway up in the light
\nknowing our days
\nwould be transformed to night
\nand down we would fall
\nclutching branches and leaves
\nand sit here a shuddering
\nas the world grieves
\nfor the thousands of creatures
\nwho have been misplaced
\ntorn apart from the heart
\nas away they’ve been chased<\/p>\n
the fall of the forest
\nthe end of the trees
\njust enormous trunks
\n even Hercules,
\nhimself couldn’t
\ncope with the power
\nand the strength
\nof these mammoth machines
\nwho take out the length
\nand breadth of the forest
\nin under a day
\nsuch a, dreadful noise
\nunheard of some say
\nthat deafens and frightens
\nand gives us the shakes
\nas we open our eyes
\nand alas our heart breaks<\/p>\n
we sit all together
\nclose to the road
\nwhere man trucks are moving
\na great heavy load
\nwe shiver in fright
\nnothing, we can do
\nbut wait for the end
\nand hope some of you
\nare activist types
\nand will help to preserve
\nnot those nastier gripes
\nwith peculiar nerves
\nwho imprison us in
\nrusty compounds called zoo’s
\nwhere we sit on the concrete
\nthe bars to peruse<\/p>\n
We are frightened
\nyou break up our families
\nand we
\nlove one another
\nmost faithfully
\nPalm Oil and profit
\nman’s lust for it all
\nthe once vibrant life line
\nwas cut and we fall
\nby the wayside a chattering
\nshuddering few
\nthrust into a maelstrom
\nwith nothing to do
\nwhilst more dreary forests
\nof Palm oil do grow
\na vile sheltered hell
\nwhere little to show
\na haven far rats
\nand introduced owls
\nan inhospitable place
\nand where in prowls
\nthe great the black cobra
\nbut not much else dares
\nto live in this hell hole
\nwith all its nightmares<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
After the trees have gone what is left……………………. little for the red ape and all his friends Continue reading