Aubade And I Am Not Like Other Birds Of Prey
Morning at last!
Every night is a fight till you're waking
Dreams dancing past
Through the silence of sleep
Dawn is breaking
I wake and watch them till then
And I am not like other birds of prey
And I am not like other birds of prey
Oh, night is long, you won't needing me
For a dressed up time I am there to see
That fear holds no sway
Soft is my plan
And my eyes kill the lies that felt happy
Life is my right
And in sleep's little bed
I'll protect you
So, hear, let my presence dismay
That I am not like other birds of prey
That I am not like other birds of prey
When hopes are young and your cares are few
Then I'm sure above keeping truth in you
And my name is love
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Man is man's prey.
Frogs find flies as their prey;
Birds find worms as their prey;
Cats find rats as their prey.
For man, another man is prey.
02.11.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sky's Bird
Do you still remember the color of the night,
How endless it seemed to go out to,
So stunning, yet frightnening its beauty was
Like a sky calling the birds, you can't resist its cry.
Another morning rises up,
As another dream falls down,
And even though I know its going to disappear,
I don't want to let go.
It's like the sun and moon,
Always going around and around,
Never meeting up with one another.
The shadow of reality,
Cast this illusion onto my life,
So I don't what's real and what isn't,
Holding on tight, I never plan to let go of my beliefs!
I believe in a night that draws you in,
No matter how hard you fight back,
Even though it may grow tiring,
You'll always run back like the birds do to the sky.
Escaping its grasp is inevitable,
If you resist too much, you might lose yourself,
But even though it was once your home,
You'll always have a place to fly back to like the birds to the sky,
Like the birds, like the birds, do to the sky,
Like the birds like the birds, do to the sky.
poem by Alex McCullough
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Salvation Jane
One chain to the mountain
Two feet in the chain
Three fires approaching
Four hours away
A sol invictus the invicible sun
The night is almost come
Five times the assassin
Six species destroyed
Seven valleys are numbered
Eight years till they're gone
Just when I thought
I'd die on this rock
I see a face I know
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
You've got the power to change
You're such an easy prey
Nine times the protector
Ten years and a day
Eleventh hour we're facing
Twelve o'clock in the sun
Oh mother nature
We're trying to kill you
Such greedy fools
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
You've got the power to change
You're such an easy prey
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
You've got the power to change
You're such an easy prey
Thirteen grand designs
Fourteen you're walking the wire
Fifteen is when you're lonely
Sixteen is a long way there
Seventeen is a whisper
Eighteen is a whirl
Nineteen is a mother
Twenty minutes ago
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
You've got the power of love
Salvation Jane
You've got the power to change
You're such an easy prey
Salvation
Salvation
Salvation
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fearful Traveller In The Haunted Castle
Oft do I hear those windows ope
And shut with dread surprise,
And spirits murmur as they grope,
But break not on the eyes.
Still fancy spies the winding sheet,
The phantom and the shroud,
And bids the pulse of horror beat
Throughout my ears aloud.
Some unknown finger thumps the door,
From one of faltering voice,
Till some one seems to walk the floor
With an alarming noise.
The drum of horror holds her sound,
Which will not let me sleep,
When ghastly breezes float around,
And hidden goblins creep.
Methinks I hear some constant groan,
The din of all the dead,
While trembling thus I lie alone,
Upon this restless bed.
At length the blaze of morning broke
On my impatient view,
And truth or fancy told the joke,
And bade the night adieu.
'Twas but the noise of prowling rats,
Which ran with all their speed,
Pursued in haste by hungry cats,
Which on the vermin feed.
Those creatures crumbling off the cheese
Which on the table lay;
Some cats, too quick the rogues to seize,
With rumbling lost their prey.
Thus man is often his own elf,
Who makes the night his ghost,
And shrinks with horror from himself,
Which is to fear the most.
The cat growl'd as she held her prey,
Which shriek'd with all its might,
And drove she balm of sleep away
Throughout the live-long night.
poem by George Moses Horton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bless Of My Own Silence....
in this place
the first thing that i hear every morning
is the song of the birds
on top of trees
as they prepare to leave
after a night's sleep
as i open my window
and light is still young like some eyes blinking
i wonder
what are these birds up to
they do not build their nests here
they just come
spend a night and then leave and are back again
on the same hour of the same night
i try to ask more questions
that i myself have to answer
but then
something comes up within
the reasons do not really matter
it is their songs
the harmony with the wind
the joy of the trees
the bliss
of my own silence....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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THE BLISS OF MY OWN SILENCE (revised)
in this place
the first thing that i hear every morning
is the song of the birds
on top of trees
as they prepare to leave
after a night's sleep
as i open my window
and light is still young like some eyes blinking
i wonder
what are these birds up to?
they do not build their nests here
they just come
spend a night and then leave and are back again
on the same hour of the another night
i try to ask more questions
that i myself have to answer
but then
something comes up within
the reasons do not really matter
it is their songs
the harmony with the wind
the joy of the trees
the bliss
of my own silence....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twitcher and the Bird Sanctuary
I see many species of birds
from morning till night.
They speak different languages
the migratory birds from all over the world.
What a colourful pagentry and harmony?
Nobody carries weapons
and no any harshness.
So it's very harmless to be with them forever.
Their twitter makes me happy
and I want to be single
whole of the journey.
If she comes I fear the birds won't be here.
She scolded me in her last letter.
'You are good for nothing; a Gooseberry
one day you sink with your birds
in your own bottomless harbour.
Your holey gondola won't be long-standing.
My wicked Gondolier,
you propel with your rickety pole to the hell!
Wind up,
your unfortunate wino Goddess.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Child's Even-Song
The sun is weary, for he ran
So far and fast to-day;
The birds are weary, for who sang
So many songs as they?
The bees and butterflies at last
Are tired out, for just think too
How many gardens through the day
Their little wings have fluttered through.
And so, as all tired people do,
They've gone to lay their sleepy heads
Deep deep in warm and happy beds.
The sun has shut his golden eye
And gone to sleep beneath the sky,
The birds and butterflies and bees
Have all crept into flowers and trees,
And all lie quiet, still as mice,
Till morning comes-like father's voice.
So Geoffrey, Owen, Phyllis, you
Must sleep away till morning too.
Close little eyes, down little heads,
And sleep-sleep-sleep in happy beds.
poem by Richard Le Gallienne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Convivial Book - Ye've Often, For Our Drunkenness,
Blamed us in ev'ry way,
And, in abuse of drunkenness,
Enough can never say.
Men, overcome by drunkenness,
Are wont to lie till day;
And yet I find my drunkenness
All night-time make me stray;
For, oh! 'tis Love's sweet drunkenness
That maketh me its prey,
Which night and day, and day and night,
My heart must needs obey,--
A heart that, in its drunkenness,
Pours forth full many a lay,
So that no trifling drunkenness
Can dare assert its sway.
Love, song, and wine's sweet drunkenness,
By night-time and by day,--
How god-like is the drunkenness
That maketh me its prey!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Set them free..They will multiply..
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time,
colorful birds to colored birds,
chirping birds to singing birds,
flying birds to walking birds,
cunning birds to love birds,
Watching birds is just a lesson,
making mind to have a vision.
collect the twigs to make the nest,
one by one, they think the best,
choose the right tree,
just high and free,
Making the nest perfect,
without any single defect,
The birds toil together or alone,
all day long until it is done.
I bought two love birds,
that were kept in a cage.
Hung the cage under the balcony,
above the reach of dogs not felony.
chirping disturbed their sleep,
Nikko, the dog set them free.
Only two flew away,
but I have a few dozens now,
making their nests,
right in front of me, on the trees.
Watching the birds is real fun,
no need dime, only the time.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Birds and The Worrier
it is raining and as usual
the worrier is worried about the birds
they have no house of their own
and they may die in the cold she says
unknown to her the birds are happier
flying in the rain
chirping and catching all the prey
that are too worried
about where to stay
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brand New Day
When you open your eyes
To a brand new morning
And the sun shines
Above you
You pull on your breeches and say
Oh well,
Its the start of a brand new day
For birds of prey
You live and learn your life away
But there below, your body must go
Against the grain
Like an old mule train
Keeps pulling hard against the
Here boy, there boy
The boss got you running everywhere boy
ya got no money and ya got less sense
And you aint going nowhere
But there below your body must go
For birds of prey
You live and learn your life away
But there below your body must go
Against the grain
Like an old mule train
Keeps pulling hard against the
Here boy, there boy
The boss got you running everywhere boy,
ya got no money and ya got less sense
And you aint going nowhere
But there below your body will go
At the end of the day
When you look around you
And the sun sets
Deep inside you
Dust off your breeches and say
oh well
Say goodnight to the man in the moon
The sandmans on his way
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paper Nest
Dementia begins. The ending starts.
Death had many names;
The mountain owls. They fly in flocks
and take prey diving on rabbits or great
bustards. Have you seen the courtship
display of bustards? They are heavy birds. Fly,
but also run very fast.
Soaring flight of eagle. Keen sight and a massive
hooked bill. Hawk takes prey by surprise.
Falcon catches prey from above.
I think water. Don't cry. Your son was
drowned in a tank when he was three. Head
down. We pulled him out after half-an-hour.
Brain damaged. He babbles now, lives a vegetable.
Neat. Death had many faces. You want her.
It will not come on asking. I think flames. We
must lock the house, and come out on skywalk.
poem by Satish Verma
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Hero for a Day
I am unique,
Just like everyone else.
Do I want to kill for you?
No, I only kill for myself
Under this sand
Buried in this time
I don’t see them here
Are you sure they weren’t mine
Now this is where I’ll stay
Thrown to the side
We’re used to kill your prey
And then be left behind
I am a Hero, but only for a day
We’re being picked off
One by One
Thinking to myself
Will I ever see my son?
I’m lying here
I’m the only one
Will I survive?
Or am I done?
Now this is where I’ll stay
Thrown to the side
We’re used to kill your prey
And than be left behind
I am a Hero, but only for a day
Finally coming home
Trying to seize the day
Mindless in my house
Do I really get a say?
“For the people”
What a lie
It’s what I live for
For what I die
Now this is where I’ll stay
Thrown to the side
We’re used to kill your prey
And than be left behind
I am a Hero, but only for a day
(12/23/2007)
poem by Michael Koelliker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The New Routine
dinner at six pm
blackout comes at 7
so we sleep as early as that time
and with nothing to do
we make love in the dark
and too tired
we oversleep till 5 the next morning
when electricity resumes
we sleep without air-conditioning
pre-conditioned now
to this long lasting emergency situation
i content myself to the sound of silence
some chirping birds sometimes
and crowing cocks at dawn
and screaming chickens landing
on the ground
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Us Prey
Im the reason women bleed
Its been called
The curse of eve
Ancient times to modern lies
You know my name
Turned your pleasures into pain
You made love I give you aids
My pollution gives you cancer
Of the brain
Yet to me you sell your soul
Fame and glory plated gold
Youre such an easy
Prey for me
Please let us prey
Please let us hunt
7 million bodies lying dead
Beneath my hands
War was such a simple
Game to play
Preachers do my bidding yet
Blame me for their sins
Altar boys are taken in dismay
Kill and eat your neighbors
Gas a subway in japan
I got more apocalyptic plans
Please let us prey
Please let us hunt
Suicide...genocide
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bad Bird
I saw a bird of quite bad scent,
I smelt it when it flew my way,
Perhaps so speedily,
Perhaps it loved me.
My birds are like no birds of prey
That strike me and hit me with their beaks.
The wings of entire softness
Munch at the air, in the cold
When the snow is falling,
Is falling far too fast.
My bird is so ugly to smell
Yet why does it love me?
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Between Sleep and Waking
SOFTLY in a dream I heard,
Ere the day was breaking,
Softly call a cuckoo bird
Between sleep and waking.
Calling through the rippling rain
And red orchard blossom;
Calling up old love again,
Buried in my bosom;
Calling till he brought you too
From some magic region;
And the whole spring followed you,
Birds on birds in legion.
Youth was in your beaming glance,
Love a rainbow round you;
Blushing trees began to dance,
Wreaths of roses crowned you.
And I called your name, and woke
To the cuckoo's calling;
And you waned in waning smoke,
As the rain was falling.
Had the cuckoo called 'Adieu,'
Ere the day was breaking?
All the old wounds bled anew
Between sleep and waking.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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What Goes Around . . .
In position and out of sight,
hiding until the time was right,
the cat crawled forward with such skill,
the bird could not escape the "kill." It happened almost every day.
The cat would never miss its prey.
So many kills against its name,
it loved to play that "pouncing" game. But then one day, the cat outside,
not chasing birds, no need to hide,
just lying in the grass to rest,
and dreaming of that new found nest. But suddenly, an angry cry,
the sound of many birds nearby.
Like bombers on a bombing run,
they started "swooping" one by one. The battle on, surprise attack,
the cat "pinned down," could not fight back.
The "message" on that battleground,
what goes around does come around.
poem by Art Milkes
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Memories like night-birds
Memories like night-birds across the time
Are searching for a prey to hunt
Memories like waves of the ocean
Are looking for a place to fade their foam
poem by Ilaria Boffa
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