Arch 372 Present John Nelson

8/14/2019 Arch 372 Present John Nelson

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Wrapped in a home with a drippy roof I sit, desiring to speak--but nothing comes.I read the ower wor

ds of a writer who sees

This world and praises her maker, his mummsIn storms that blow; Yet I, I stand aloof.The air blows cooly from a machines's gritty guts.

The rain drips from a light, dropping to a bucket.

I sit in my chair, listening to sounds of both--Which is a sound, a noise, a rubbing of nerves, racket? It is all one unless that door one shuts.Man in nature and nature in Man--and yet--What we make and all we make is also a part Of nature or else we are not. So which Would you have us be: Of nature, soul and heart,Or separate--all the beauties to forget?

Steve R. Morris

Of Nature and Man



Nest are built in the tallest tree,clad in an ivy rich green sea,winds do whisper stories and fables,they are caught by the branches of lime and maple,

gnarled and wind swept, exposed to all weather,used as a home and a post to tether,to dig the soil and plant a seed,is a wonderful magical worthwhile need, from the ground grows a stalk,

to make the neighbours jealous and baulk,

all it takes is an idea, a future plan, for without trees and water there would not be man,

pleasure and knowledge are gained from the land,whether in eld, mountain, or wood where you stand,a concept of the future and the children yet be born,

what do we pass on, what do we oer, nothing and loss and a stful of scorn,our kids are the future, they have to survive,without food they cannot eat or oil not drive,solution pollution, where have you been,open your eyes to truly see.Angry, bitter and annoyed with my peers,

I choose to change and inuence their fears.

Growth of man, Death of Earth

Trevor Seery



He gave the solid rail a hateful kick.From far away there came an answering tick

And then another tick. He knew the code:His hate had roused an engine up the road.He wished when he had had the track aloneHe had attacked it with a club or stoneAnd bent some rail wide open like switch So as to wreck the engine in the ditch.Too late though, now, he had himself to thank.Its click was rising to a nearer clank.Here it came breasting like a horse in skirts.(He stood well back for fear of scalding squirts.)

Then for a moment all there was was sizeConfusion and a roar that drowned the criesHe raised against the gods in the machine.

Then once again the sandbank lay serene.The traveler’s eye picked up a turtle train,between the dotted feet a streak of tail,And followed it to where he made out vague

But certain signs of buried turtle’s egg;And probing with one nger not too rough,

The Egg and the Machine

He found suspicious sand, and sure enough,

The pocket of a little turtle mine.

If there was one egg in it there were nine,Torpedo-like, with shell of gritty leather

All packed in sand to wait the trump together.‘You’d better not disturb any more,’ He told the distance, ‘I am armed for war.The next machine that has the power to passWill get this plasm in it goggle glass.’

Robert Frost



Then an old man, a keeper of an inn, said, “Speak to us of Eating and Drinking.” And he said:Would that you could live on the fragerance of the earth, and like an air plant be sustained by the light.But since you must kill to eat, and rob the young of its mother’s milk to quench your thirst, let it then

be an act of worship,And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of forest and plain are sacriced for that which is purer and still more innocent in many.When you kill a beast say to him in your heart,“By the same power that slays you, I t

o am slain; and I too shall be consumed. For the law that deliv-

ered you into my hand shall deliver me int

o a mightier hand.Your blood and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the tr

ee of heaven.” And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say t

o it in your heart,“Your seeds shall live in my body,And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,And your fragrance shall be my breath,

And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.”

And in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyard for the winepress, say in you heart,“I too am a vineyard, and my fruit shall be gather

ed for the winepress,And like new wine I shall be kept in eternal vessels.” And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup;And let there be in the song a r

emembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for thewinepress.

Eating And Drinking

Kahil Gibran



We build, we build,

Form over structure.We build, we build,Energyh over matter.

We build in vain,We build in pain.We tear it down,

We build again.Symbols of progressArchitect’s successMan-made fortressA material excess.

We build over forest and plain Mother Nature’s rape,We build, guilty as Cain Mass conscience escape.

We build, we build

We build high,

We build to the sky.We build high,We watch it die.

We build far and nigh,We build lie upon lie,

Not knowing, that one day,

It will all be washed away.

Avinash Ramchander



In all the colours of the ushing year By Nature’s swift and secret-workng hand,

The garden glows, and lls the liberal air

With lavish fragrance; while the promis’d fruit Lies yet a little embryo, unperciev’d,

Within its crimson folds. Now from the town Burried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps,Oft let me wander o’er the dewy elds,

Where freshness breathes, and dash the tr

embling dropsFrom the bent bush, as though the verdant mazeOf sweetbriar hedges I pursue my walk;Or taste the smell of dairy, or ascend

Some eminence, Augusta, in thy plain,And see the country, far diused around,One boundless blush, one white empurpled shower

Of mingled blossoms; where the raptured eyeHurries from joy to joy, and, hid beneath

The fair profusion, yellow Autumn spies...

James Thomson

A portion of the poem Seasons: Spring



The nest workers in stone are not copper or steel tools, but the gentle touches of air and water work-ing at their leisure with a liberal allowance of time.

Henry David Thoreau I will be steel!I will build a steel bridge over my need!I will build a bomb shelter over my heart!But my future is a secret.It is as shy as a mole.

Anne Sexton It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.

Albert Einstein

Man has been endowed with reason, with the power to create, so that he can add to what he’s been given. But up to now he hasn’t been a creator, only a destroyer. Forests keep disappearing, rivers dry

up, wild life’s become extinct, the climate’s ruined and the land gr ows poorer and uglier every day.Uncle Vanya

Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mount ains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.

John Muir

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Arch 372 Present John Nelson