A month from a skylark, a half from a finch, a little from a wagtail and not a day from a swallow.
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Little Trotty Wagtail
Little trotty wagtail he went in the rain,
And tittering, tottering sideways he neer got straight again,
He stooped to get a worm, and looked up to get a fly,
And then he flew away ere his feathers they were dry.
Little trotty wagtail, he waddled in the mud,
And left his little footmarks, trample where he would.
He waddled in the water-pudge, and waggle went his tail,
And chirrupt up his wings to dry upon the garden rail.
Little trotty wagtail, you nimble all about,
And in the dimpling water-pudge you waddle in and out;
Your home is nigh at hand, and in the warm pig-stye,
So, little Master Wagtail, I'll bid you a good-bye.
poem by John Clare
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I Swallow
I swallow pride,
I swallow guilt,
I swallow everything he spilt.
I wipe away the remnants of,
What is left of both our love.
I swallow all that is not seen,
I swallow every broken dream,
I swallow when I want to scream,
This by itself is magic.
I swallow if just for his likes,
I swallow and it’s tragic.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Skylark
Skylark
Have you anything to say to me?
Wont you tell me where my love can be?
Is there a meadow in the mist
Where someones waiting to be kissed?
Oh skylark
Have you seen a valley green with spring?
Where my heart can go a journeying
Over the shadows and the rain
To a blossom covered lane
And in your lonely flight
Havent you heard the music in the night?
Wonderful music
Faint as a will o the wisp
Crazy as a loon
Sad as a gypsty serenading the moon
Oh skylark
I dont know if you can find these things
But my heart is riding on your wings
So if you see them anywhere
Wont you lead me there
Oh skylark
Wont you lead me there?
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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ThE pAiN..........
I'll swallow the pain of being misunderstood.
I'll swallow the pain of being no good.
I'll just swallow the pain of not fitting in.
I'll just swallow the pain of not deserving.
I'll swallow the pain of hiding myself.
I'll swallow the pain of having no help.
I'll just swallow the pain of being constantly hurt.
I'll just swallow the pain of being thought as a nerd.
I'll swallow the pain of breaking my heart.
And in all of my dreams, with sorrow I'll part........
poem by Urmila Reghunath
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His one superiority over me is that he can drop a swallow or a skylark with his revolver at fifty yards while I should probably miss an elephant at the same distance.
Axel Munthe in The Story of San Michele (1929)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Rushes In A Watery Place
Rushes in a watery place,
And reeds in a hollow;
A soaring skylark in the sky,
A darting swallow;
And where pale blossom used to hang
Ripe fruit to follow.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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She Won't Swallow It
Warning-Sexual content! May not be suitable for all readers!
Parody of the classic song from the film of the same name The Girl Can't Help It
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She walks by, got mine standing at attention
Tight inside of my jeans
Still...
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She winks her eye, flirts with me so outragous and naughty
Gets me so damn horny
Only to burn me like toast
Cos no matter how often I ask
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She' s got me turned on the most
Yet even if I got down tonight on my knees
I think I know still what her answer would be
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
The girl won't swallow it
Won't get down on her knees
Not even once just to see if she would like it
Oh yeah
Sad but true
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
And even when I beg her pretty please
A horny boyfriend down on his knees
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
Still I'm hopin' and prayin' someday
Her answer will be
The girl will swallow it cos she's just as horny as me
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She won't even pretend to mess around with it
In the dark or in the sun
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
If I give her some good old fashion lovin' way down there
Then should't she do the same for me?
The girl won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
Always makes me feel so damn bad just for askin'
Just like a dirty old grandpa instead of the young kinky 21 that I am
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
The girl won't swallow it
Won't get down on her knees
Not even once just to see if she would like it
Oh yeah
Sad but true
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
And even when I beg her pretty please
A horny boyfriend down on his knees
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
Still I'm hopin' and prayin' someday
Her answer will be
The girl will swallow it cos she's just as horny as me
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She walks by, got my manhood locked up tight in a vise
As I pant and moan for that little something
That little something more that she just won't give
Still I'm hopin' and prayin' someday
Her answer will be
The girl will swallow it cos she's just as horny as me
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
2008 Ramona Thompson
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Inspiration
I am watching a skylark
flying skyward.
It's famous for its song.
I am sitting here, on the top of a wall, and
thinking........
What is my actual liking?
I have spent too much time with my colleagues.
I have had my periods with relatives.
I like very much some of them.
But, Alas! I am still the same.
Whatsoever, now, I am watching a tiller.
He spends his time to make us survivor (in this world) .
Many poets have supplicated prayer to God for them
as they are the bearer of living-flow.
But, I am not a tiller.
I want to do something similler.
I will do the second thing
which is needful for a human being.
I will teach the glorious and heavenly lesson to mankind.
Thus, I may become like the skylark, and then
I would fly thoughtlessly and hourly like the skylark.
poem by Bibhakar Dutta
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July....
July is the month where the families get the barbeque grills fired up.
July is the month where the night sky is light up with fire works.
July is the month where many families go out of town to be with family.
July is the month where many kids are dreary because it’s a month away for school.
July is the month where America gets to celebrate its independence from England.
July is the month where many people are dying of the heat of the summer.
July is my favorite month because it’s the time that I get to be myself around my family.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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Non Per Sempre
Non per sempre
non per sempre ma finch ce n'
non ci fermiamo e andiamo avanti tanto...
c'hanno gi detto il ballo persto finir
comunque siamo ancora in pista
Non per sempre...
...Ma anche vero che se non molli mai
Non per sempre ma finch potrai
Perch ... finir .. lo sai...
cogli l'attimo, vivi quello che hai
Rimorsi forse ma rimpianti mai perch
non per sempre ma finch ce n'
Non per sempre
non per sempre ma finch ce n'
non ci fermiamo e andiamo avanti
tanto, c'hanno gi detto il vento presto cambier
ma cavalchiamo ancora l'onda
Non per sempre, comunque stato bello
almeno fino a qua
andremo avanti fino a che ce ne sar
song performed by by Eiffel 65
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half The World
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway
Half the world lives
Half the world makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes
Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does
Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away
Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns
Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half
Half of us divided like a torn-up photograph half of us are
Trying to reach the other half
Half the world cares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half The World
Half the world lives,
Half the world makes,
Half the world gives
While the other half takes.
Half the world hates,
Half the world runs away,
Half the world's late,
Half the world praises the day.
Half the world is,
Half the world was,
Half the world thinks,
Half the world does.
Half the world lies,
Half the world burns,
Half the world cries
While the other half turns.
Half the world cares,
Half the world weeps,
Half the world shares,
Half the world keeps.
Half the world sings,
Half the world laughs,
Half the world brings,
Half the world tries to be the other half.
End.
From The Short Story What The Swallows Did
Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow,
Starting on your autumn flight,
Pause a moment at my window,
Twitter softly your good-night;
For the summer days are over,
All your duties are well done,
And the happy homes you builded
Have grown empty, one by one.
Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow,
Are you ready for your flight?
Are all the feather cloaks completed?
Are the little caps all right?
Are the young wings strong and steady
For the journey through the sky?
Come again in early spring-time;
And till then, good-by, good-by!
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Song of Sunset on the River
A strip of water's spread in the setting sun,
Half the river's emerald, half is red.
I love the third night of the ninth month,
The dew is like pearl; the moon like a bow.
poem by Bai Juyi
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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It's Cold For May
it's cold for May and weather most severe
And swallow yet to return home this year
And still no trace or sound of bird cuckoo
And to hear him now would be like dream come true.
And trees and hedgerows not yet in full leaf
And Winter rob Spring like cruel hearted thief
And rain since morn and wind blow all day long
And lonely robin pipes a lonely song.
And worried farmer under cloud of woe,
His livestock hunger and the grass don't grow
And from fodder purchase last year's profits gone
And times are hard and hard to carry on.
I think of balmy days and Springs gone by
When sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky
And blissful skylark all day on the wing
At heaven's gate to angels songs did sing.
What's happened with the weather anyway?
Seems more like January than the month of May
And wintery conditions still prevail
And few birds sing now in the windswept vale.
But feelings of hopelessness and despair
Don't ever seem to get one anywhere
And in god's good time the weather will come fine
And grass will grow and the sun will brightly shine.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Collector
I pick things up, I am a collector
And things, well things, they tend to accumulate
I have this net, it drags behind me
It picks up feelings for me to feed upon
There are times, plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But it's time to breed
And it's got to grow inside me
There are times, plenty of times
I wish I could let it go
But it's time to make me think things
I don't wanna know
I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke
And swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
I am the plague
I am the swarm
All your heart sticks on me
And I keep it warm
It'll make me stay
It won't let me leave
There are so goddamn many of them
It gets hard to breathe
I'm trying to fit it all inside
I'm trying to open my mouth wide
I'm trying not to choke inside
I am a good boy, and I will
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Swallow it all
Every last one [19x]
song performed by by Nine Inch Nails
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you have to swallow a frog, try not to think about it. If you have to swallow two frogs, don't swallow the smaller one first.
August....
August is the month for kids it’s the last few weeks of freedom before a new school year begins.
August is the month where many parents are excited that its here cause they don’t want their kids home alone.
August is the last month before fall begins.
August is the only month that has fewer holidays than most months.
August is the month where most teens are happy because it means that it’s the last school year for most.
August is the month that I really don’t care for but I also like as well.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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Spring Visit
Remnants of sun ribbon the river--
half and half, black river red.
Third night, ninth month lovely hour;
pearled dew, bent bow moon.
The Collective: The Little Finch
Many a song it knew, world explored
Never sojourned by any abrasion
With little wings unapt to soar
It conquered the saturated horizon
But with the dainty plumes she wore
Loftier than any warranted vision
Its petite stature cascades a shadow
When in flight, a colossal brace
The ground can be auspiciously narrow
As it hovers in a circling chase
Perch along the days to follow
And croon of songs from a vulnerable place
Oh! Little Finch, your frame so frail!
Dare shan't strife your mirthful flight
In a world of gloom and despair
You are a blotch of saccharine delight
So captivate you not, nor halt, nor don in veil
For your wonders aren't that of a fettered kite
Sing, little Finch! Fly, little Finch!
Nary could weather make you flinch!
poem by Norman Santos
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