My Bird Performs
(colin moulding)
Fine art never moved my soul
No vintage wine designer clothes
But my world shakes for me
My bird sings sweetly
A different kind of tinsel
Decorates my tree
Yes my bird performs
A thousand cheshire cats
Grin inside of me
Yes my bird performs
There she goes
Shakespeares sonnets leave me cold
The drama stage and the high brow prose
But my world shakes for me
My bird sings sweetly
The brightest fireworks
Are lighting up my sky
Yes my bird performs
The cage is open
But shes no desire to fly
cause my bird performs
There she goes
And you keep saying what you got
You keep saying what you got
Look out!
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
My Bird Performs
(colin moulding)
Fine art never moved my soul
No vintage wine designer clothes
But my world shakes for me
My bird sings sweetly
A different kind of tinsel
Decorates my tree
Yes my bird performs
A thousand cheshire cats
Grin inside of me
Yes my bird performs
There she goes
Shakespeares sonnets leave me cold
The drama stage and the high brow prose
But my world shakes for me
My bird sings sweetly
The brightest fireworks
Are lighting up my sky
Yes my bird performs
The cage is open
But shes no desire to fly
cause my bird performs
There she goes
And you keep saying what you got
You keep saying what you got
Look out!
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bird's Wish
The bird asks me
What I’d do
If I am a bird.
I tell him
High and high I’d soar
So high that I’d see the earth no more
I’d be a bird on the tree
I’d be a bird that’s free!
What you’d do bird
If you’re a man?
To be fair
It’d be my only prayer to God
Don’t be so hard
Make me once again a bird!
Saying this the bird sings
And spreads its wings to a sky
I can never fly!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To a Sleeping Child
Lips, lips, open!
Up comes a little bird that lives inside
Up comes a little bird, and peeps, and out he flies.
All the day he sits inside, and sometimes he sings,
Up he comes, and out he goes at night to spread his wings.
Little bird, little bird, whither will you go?
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Little bird, little bird, whither do you flee?
Far away around the world, while nobody can see.
Little bird, little bird, how long will you roam?
All round the world and around again home;
Round the round world, and back through the air,
When the morning comes, the little bird is there.
Back comes the little bird and looks and in he flies,
Up wakes the little boy, and opens both his eyes.
Sleep, sleep, little boy, little bird’s away,
Little bird will come again, by the peep of day;
Sleep, little boy, the little bird must go
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Sleep, sleep sound, little bird goes round,
Round and round he goes; sleep, sleep sound.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Caged
People began bidding for a confined bird on a ledge
A poor bird in a iron cage.
No one knows this birds age.
It was the pleasing color of sage.
The sea was in a constant rage.
Everyone was afraid of standing near the outside stage.
The bird went to the highest bidder for a high price.
The auctionor asked him what he was going to do with the bird?
The owner of the bird set it free.
So it could fly from tree to tree.
The bird said thank you by singing its wild glee.
This reminds me of how God can set a mans souls free.
Thank you God for setting my soul free.
I want to fly!
yes, you do.
where do you want to go?
i am looking for a new home
how does one grow wings?
i want to fly...
it is the most quiet conversation.
the man begs to understand
why the mouth he is blest with does not take the shape of a beak.
the bird sings of many lands
the man has not yet been to
the little brown bird's heart is a ray of sun
but the man does not know
inside the wars are all in the making
outside it is still calm
the bird and the man kiss
the bird flies
the man falls asleep
the man flies
the bird is dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Bird In Your Cage
we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape
we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree
days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free
yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings
days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings
today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage
i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings
i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am
in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ay De Mi
O bird, that used to press,
Thy head against my cheek
With touch that seem'd to speak,
And ask a tender 'yes' -
Ay de mi, my bird:
Ay de mi, my bird, my bird -
Ay de mi, my bird.
O tender downy breast,
And warmly beating heart,
That beating seem'd a part
Of me who gave it rest -
Ay de mi, my bird:
Ay de mi, my bird, my bird -
Ay de mi, my bird.
poem by George Eliot

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Tame Bird Was In A Cage
THE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, 'O my love, let us fly to the wood.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Come hither, let us both live in the cage.'
Says the free bird, 'Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?'
'Alas,' cries the caged bird, 'I should not know where to sit perched in the sky.'
The free bird cries, 'My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands.'
The cage bird sings, 'Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned.'
The forest bird cries, 'No, ah no! songs can never be taught.'
The cage bird says, 'Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands.'
There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, 'Come closer, my love!'
The free bird cries, 'It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.'
poem by Rabindranath Tagore

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shore Leave Ornithology
Slacks, coffee trend
I could have been in the us navy
Flapping grey, coffee smoke
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Where the hell were you?
Rough stencil, print music
Cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard coffee
Saxophone mention barbers, n.y.
The cigarette was burning, the flat shoes
Stool
Bongo, coffee, don't mention that black man
The leather-coat was his
Where was she?
Could have been in the us navy
Flow beating air, table-top, shoulder slung
Shore leave, no sailors here
Cardboard, cardboard, cardboard, cardboard
Liquor slacks twisting
The cigarette was burning
The flat shoes, the flat shoes, the flat shoes
Bird, bird, bird, bird
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
Bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird, bird
I could have been in another nineteen-fifty
Bird, bird, bird
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Sides, One Coin
White bird of peace,
won't you please come save me,
since I'm swallowed by grief and I need sweet release.
Black bird of death,
won't you wrap 'round my neck,
as the ace, king, and queen fall away from the deck.
The caged bird sings,
but the lone bird dies;
Set it free, let it be, let it open your eyes.
poem by William Blake Beckett

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode to the bird in the cypress tree
Ode to the bird in the cypress tree
~
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
shaded from the heat of the midday sun
yet still free to ride upon the ocean breeze
whenever it chooses to blow from time to time
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
and chirp my own little song aloud to the world
or to fly amongst the clouds so high above
and look down to watch the world below
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
for all my wishes and day bought dreams
I am here and I am still me writing a poem
about that lucky bird perched in the cypress tree
poem by Matthew Holloway

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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T-birds
Circle high, circle low.
Jammers fly, t-birds.
You show, you show, whiplash go.
You show, you show, t-birds. mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
On the dot in the slot, tie the knot.
On the dot timed kisses.
In the slot on the dot, tie the knot.
In the slot, no misses.
Mighty bird.
T-bird, my mighty bird.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun conquerer.
Two thousand years ago... a great race... warriors... lived in... they had many gods... mayans... gods... mazatlan... (if you can fill in these blanks please email [email protected])
Black sun worshipper.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up plumed serpent.
Coil it up, wind it out, strike it hot!
Coil it up, my t-bird.
Serpent curl.
T-bird, rule the world.
T-bird, mighty bird.
Black sun born again.
Oh I love my t-bird, t-bird.
song performed by by Blondie

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth Of 1,000 Summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul. in my soul, in my soul
In my soul. in my soul. in my soul
And he looks so radiant
And he shines like the sun
And he looks so radiant
And he lights up the world
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Yeah, love it, yeah, love it
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
He's the king of the mountain
And the clear crystal fountain
He's the saint of the river
He's the ancient of days
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And he makes you go skipping
And he makes you go dancing
And he gets you in rhythm
And he moves you in song
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Oh, in my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And a sweet bird of youth
In my soul (repeat)
song performed by by Van Morrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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VI
The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the
cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread
one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit
perched in the sky."
The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the
woodlands."
The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of
the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the
woodlands."
Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing
to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to
know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my
love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of
the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from The Gardener (1913)

Submitted by Silvia Velea
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This Little Bird
John d loudermilk
Theres a little bird that somebody sends
Down to the earth to live on the wind.
Born on the wind and he sleeps on the wind
This little bird that somebody sends.
Hes light and fragile and feathered sky blue,
So thin and graceful the sun shines through.
This little bird who lives on the wind,
This little bird that somebody sends.
He flies so high up in the sky
Out of reach of human eye.
And the only time that he touches the ground
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird
Is when that little bird dies.
song performed by by Roy Orbison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Name this bird
Name this bird
If you are.
If you wish
Go there.
Geography
I do not like.
History
This bird
is not feathery.
See the word
Search the bird.
The bird I saw
Above the rulrs
Above the law.
If you wish
Go and tell
But please
Do not say
The bird is in sleep
And not here to clip.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweetheart
Sweetheart, in my hand is this bird
Of desire
It sings a song from the bottom
Of my heart
On my shoulder it hovers
On my head it flies
Round in circle inside
My mind
On my hand this bird returns
With so much kindness
And grace
This bird sings again
About the love
It knew It found
Now nestling in the warm leaves
Of your memories
Sweetheart, undress yourself
For love has so desired us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Of Syntax
A poet and his bird, his dog, his cat and his tree
A poet and the bird in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree and the wind and the cloud
The bird in the tree, the dog in the tree, the cat in the tree,
The bird in the tree, the dog on the tree, the cat under the tree,
The bird on the tree, the bird in a tree, a bird in a tree, a bird in the tree,
And the wind and the cloud and the poet and his dog and his cat and the tree
The dog chases the cat the cat chases the bird
And they all arrive in that tree
Where the poet is sitting under that tree
The poet takes the dog and the cat was envious
And the bird looks at them in silence
The silence looks at the poet in the eye
Of the cat and the bird flies away
The poet and the dog is the poem of friendship
The cat and the dog is the poem of the endless natural quarrels
And the bird that flies away against the cat and the dog and the poet and the tree
And flies against the wind that the bird is now fighting
And the clouds that seem so blue and blue
The bird that actually flies away
Is actually me
I was not the poet with the dog
I am not the tree I am not the wind I am not the cloud I am not the poet there who had a dog as friend and I was not the quarrelsome thing from the blue and out of the blue
I am the bird with wings and I always fly away to places
Against the wind to places where I can be as always be the bird with wings in silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Statutory warning
Bird is the subject
And you all present
To speak something
And you do not want
To speak a lie
On bird
Discussion open.
Satutory warning
From the very begining
And one who involved
Know what to do
With this subject
And all move forward.
The tree that is there
And the bird is on the tree
And the bird is on the sky
Sketch the bird at the same time
And closed the discussion
That is on.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Now Little Bird?
what now little bird?
you look around you
the nest is empty
and mother bird is far away
and siblings
have taken the first jump
to the pond
to learn to float
and then
fly
you think that mother-bird
comes back
to feed you with another worm?
no, little bird
no one is coming back for you
you do not even
know if you have a father-bird
to save you
no, little bird
do not wait
do not waste your time
the sun shines
and it is time
for you to go too
fly now
little bird
find the real meaning of your wings....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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