A bird in hand is worth more than a hundred in flight.
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Your Mandate
you do not like the image of the bird with a hundred eyes
and he follows you because he loves you
he exercises restraint on his fingers and sketches a petal
you want more of it and so he draws a rose with lots of red petals
just to please you but
deep within him he wants to be that bird with a hundred eyes
on a hundred wings to fly the thousand filaments of winds
but because he loves you he stays as a hand waiting
for your orders
time knows how to make a solution and
it takes you with the hard grip of its hands
your breath is taken away
and he buries you immediately deeper than you expect
to the dampness of
the earth
now he becomes a bird with a hundred eyes and a hundred wings
so free so delighted
he does not even want to mention your name ever again
despite the fact that he still loves you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Bird's Wings
The bird's wing levels for the summation,
It dived once more but now it flies straight;
This evening is its dinner and lunch,
Killing itself and its kids, forming a nest.
The wings of an animal work for the better,
Injured ones last not, they do not last at all
For the flight of a bird is accompanied by all.
Mighty winds sever the flight so wild and free,
In order to pack the several costumes of the breeze.
Freedom comes from everything and all of our guns
Are shooting the air like a bird's flight and its freedom.
poem by Naveed Akram

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A bird in the cage is worth a hundred at large.
Safe Ground
In my darkest hour
Reaching for the light
Wounded little bird
You caught me in mid flight
Thought I'd found a shelter
Midst life's stormy seas
But instead a place of dread
And once again I flee
To safer ground below me
I am standing on the earth
Others may demean me
But I know my true worth
This little bird has wings
The world can't hold her down
I think I'll skip another trip
Down the road to crazy town.
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden

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100,000 Pennies
I broke into the bank on Sunday,
You should see the money I got.
I couldn't drag it home 'til Monday,
'Cause it sure weighed an awful lot.
Then I sat down to count it,
And much to my surprise,
A whole lotta little brown, little round coins,
Rolled out before my eyes
Chorus:
I've got a hundred thousand dollars worth of pennies,
Not a solitary dollar or a dime,
And I don't believe there's many,
Rich men with a problem like mine.
And I don't think this is any
Kind of ending to a perfect crime.
I've got a hundred thousand dollars worth of pennies,
And I'm spendin' it a penny at a time!
Now a steak sure would taste delicious,
And I've forgot how a beer would feel,
But the man just might get suspicious,
If I gave him eight hundred pennies for a meal.
So I guess I'll just weigh myself again,
And buy me another stick of gum,
I've got a hundred thousand dollars worth of pennies, Lord!
And I'm livin' like a penniless bum!
Chorus:
I've got a hundred thousand dollars worth of pennies,
Not a solitary dollar or a dime,
And I don't believe there's many,
Rich men with a problem like mine.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

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The Falcon and the Ostrich
Hi! Good morning. I am Falco Peregrinus
As fastest flying bird, the record now I hold
In horizontal flight my speed is ninety
And in a stoop I clock two hundred seventy
That's in miles per hour, I do so easily
No other animal will dare compete with me
Wether they be from land, from the sky or the sea
Preys much larger than I, I can always subdue,
Which so many believe, I stab with my claws
That is far from the truth, I stun them with a blow
With my clenched feet and then for them back I would go
With this, to me, my friend, what else to say have you
Hi there! I am Mr. Struthio Camelus
My name in English means a long-necked sparrow
I am the biggest bird in existence today
And lay the largest egg, unknown to you maybe
Men benefit from me in so many a way
From my eggs, meat, feather, leather, ee tee cee
Yes, in flight you're the fastest and to you I agree
But on foot an equal to me there'll never be
I'm the fastest runner in the world of the birds
In my speed of about forty-five mph
I will beat and surpass most of your equine friends
And if our topic shall be longevity
My lifespan in years is five plus seventy
Yours is one-fifth of mine, or fifteen years only
How can you be a bird? to this the falcon said
And why do you not fly, two wings you also have
Pitifully you lack things an avian should have
Crop, gallbladder, two toes, if just to name a few
I will not call myself a bird if I were you
poem by Pacific Hernandez

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A Hundred Times Over
A hundred times over words have flowed through my fingers to the keys
A hundred times over I have released the freedom that is in my mind,
A hundred times over I have become one with my inter most longing,
A hundred times over I have taken a journey to show you my own world.
A hundred times over I have written of pain and life, of sorrow and joy,
A hundred times over I have used my art to show you what's in my mind
A hundred times over again I will show you.
A hundred times over I have cried for those, whose names are untold,
A hundred times over I have showed you their pain.
A hundred times over I have become their connection to you,
A hundred times over I have showed you the beauty of our world,
A hundred times over I have taken you somewhere you may never see,
A hundred times over my words have screamed the horror of darkness,
A hundred times over I have sung to you the beauty of light,
A hundred times over I have taken your hand to lead you to a new place
A hundred time over I have written for those who have no words to write
A hundred times over I have tried to show truth in a world of lies,
A hundred times over I have have tried to show the world's beauty,
A hundred times over again I will lead down these paths,
A hundred times over and over again I will show you reality,
A hundred times over and over again I shall show you my world,
A hundred times over and over again until you have memorised truth,
A hundred times over again until you can repeat what I have told,
A hundred times over again shall I create an art of words, time, of life.
A hundred times over again I shall do this,
A hundred times over again.
A hundred times over.
poem by Bethany Maxwell

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Endless Flight
Writers: andrew gold
Keep me steady
Dont rock me all around
Lord, I dont wanna fall down
Understand me
I wish this jet was off the ground
Look around you
And tell me what you see
Are you afraid or is it me?
I hope we make it
I hope we dont fall in the sea
And its gonna be an endless flight
Until we reach the ground tonight
Yes its gonna be an endless flight I know
Like a flyinbird in the night
The wind is strong but I hope Im right
An this will be the end of this endless flight
Make me happy
Just let me see the light
I hope the runway time is near
The look the captain gave
Wasnt comfort and saw fear
Oh, what a fear
And its gonna be an endless flight
Until we reach the ground tonight
Yes its gonna be an endless flight I know
Like a flyin bird in the night
The wind is strong but I hope Im right
An this will be the end of this endless flight
And its gonna be an endless flight
Until we reach the ground tonight
Yes its gonna be an endless flight I know
Like a flyin bird in the night
The wind is strong but I hope Im right
An this will be the end of this endless flight
And its gonna be an endless flight
Until we reach the ground tonight
Yes its gonna be an endless flight I know
Like a flyin bird in the night
The wind is strong but I hope Im right
An this will be the end of this endless flight
song performed by by Leo Sayer

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Did It Prevent Your Sun Kissed Dreams?
Father that sundial, is it death…
Is it Father - the hand of death?
Is it the sword that cuts short a bird's flight?
'Child, we're all adjacent, the window of life.
The window of light…'
O' Father is it a guillotine!
Does it covert our breath…
O' Father how, much, time
Do we have? Left…
'Child, we're all adjacent, the window of life.
Until the bird in your soul, takes flight'.
'Child, a question - answer your father this.
Did it prevent your sun kissed dreams? Last night.'
poem by Mark Heathcote

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For the Airmen
THOU who guidest the swallow and wren,
Keep the paths of the flying men!
Over the mountains, over the seas
Thou hast given the bird-folk compasses.
Thou guidest them, yea, Thou leadest them home
By the trackless ways and the venturesome.
Look Thou then on these bird-men, far
More than the sparrows and swallows are.
When they fly in the wintry weather
Be their compass and chart together.
Keep them riding the wind. Uphold
Their passion of flight lest it grow cold.
Thy right hand be under the wing,
Thy left hand for their steadying.
The Wings of the birds of Heaven be nigh
Lest their wings fail them and they die.
Make Thou their flying as deft and fleet
As the flight of the linnet or the blue-tit.
Thy hand over them, shall they fear
The spears of lightning or any spear?
Thy hand under them, what shall appal?
Not the fierce foe nor the sudden fall.
Show them Thy moon at night: Thy stars
Bid stand as sentinels in their wars.
Yea, make their lone tracks pleasant as
A soft meandering path in grass.
Thou that launchest the wren, the swallow
Guard our flying loves when they follow.
poem by Katharine Tynan

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The bird of paradise alights only upon the hand that does not grasp.
John Berry in Flight of White Crows

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Virtue Vs Evil
Wherever you are wherever you go
I will go with you hand in hand
A faltered state of agony and lust
I will go with you hand in hand
Vying for the amelioration of offspring
I will go with you hand in hand
Injecting an age-long flight from right
I will go with you hand in hand
The endearment of wealth and spendthrift
I will go with you hand in hand
Wherever is the wretched face of human lure
I will go with you hand in hand
The pitfall of human lot has waged a spiritual war
I will go with you hand in hand
poem by Hafiz Qasim

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A bird in the hand is more worth than two flying.
A bird in your hand is worth two in the bush.
A bird in your hand is worth more than 100 in the forest.
A bird in the hand is worth more than ten in the bush.