Related quotes
If my life was a song the title would probably be 'Clumsy', 'cause I'm clumsy.
quote by Pia Toscano
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Early Spring (Rondel Prime)
The early spring brings new flowers again
while twittering birds fly past in a flock,
at the sight of humans cry in amok,
hide in their nests in the seeping cold rain,
while on the road daily joggers do train,
timing themselves with the far off clock.
The early spring brings new flowers again
while twittering birds fly past in a flock,
some on the ground peck and cry out in pain,
others flutter above ships in the dock
while the big waves does them up and down rock
while the spray, rust and salt marks does decks stain.
The early spring brings new flowers again
while twittering birds fly past in a flock.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beak Kind To Birds!
Beak kind to birds both near and far,
Both high and low as well...
To me, each bird's a superstar!
In fact, to me, they're swell!
Beak kind to birds and show you care
With titbits now and then...
And watch with wonder as they share
Their breakfast once again!
Beak kind and keep your cats at bay...
Else feeding birds take flight!
It's nicer seeing birds at play
Than watching them take fright!
Beak kind to birds, give them their space
So they may co-exist...
For none on Earth can take their place,
So they'd be sorely missed!
Beak kind to birds, they'll flock to you -
They're all our feathered friends!
It doesn't matter, black or blue...
Beak kind - 'cos it makes sense!
poem by Denis Martindale (2003)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Morning Lights Outside The Kitchen Door...
must it be habit
that makes you turn off the light
outside the kitchen
at the break of day
when the birds start to
sing their songs
you save on electricity
in the same manner that you budget
your time and
money
i've tried it once
not putting off the lights from morning
till night
some early birds that pick the early worms
passing by the house
with closed doors and windows
with lights not switched off
think that i am
dead
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Triangles
Three triangles of birds crossed
Over the enormous ocean which extended
In winter like a green beast.
Everything just lay there, the silence,
The unfolding gray, the heavy light
Of space, some land now and then.
Over everything there was passing
A flight
And another flight
Of dark birds, winter bodies
Trembling triangles
Whose wings,
Frantically flapping, hardly
Can carry the gray cold, the desolate days
From one place to another
Along the coast of Chile.
I am here while from one sky to another
The trembling of the migratory birds
Leaves me sunk inside myself, inside my own matter
Like an everlasting well
Dug by an immovable spiral.
Now they have disappeared
Black feathers of the sea
Iron birds
From steep slopes and rock piles
Now at noon
I am in front of emptiness. It’s a winter
Space stretched out
And the sea has put
Over its blue face
A bitter mask.
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early haiku worm
Is clever, had fresh air dose
Before early birds!
haiku by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Need For A New House....Or Home...
early morning
when the doors are still closed and the windows still tipsy
like the whole house
you fly away
the sun comes out with the clouds
early morning you fly away
away from it all
the clouds are floors and grasses
and you are a lonely bird among a flock of chairs
early morning you fly away
thinking about nothing
you fly away and you feel like a leaf inside
that gentle beast
it is a ride-awA Need For A New House....Or Home...ay
among the paradoxes of life
and its ironies
early morning there is this flight that takes you to a stop-over
of your life
no one knows that you are grieving
over a search for what you feel
the one you had which you lost
intentionally
among the flock of chairs landing early morning
on unstable floors
early morning you take a cab
you choose still
which house
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pigeons at Glasgow.
Why there are so many crippled, walking and limping on the yard?
Why are their joints ripped off, missing one in the middle?
How is she lost half of her leg, balancing as a ballerina?
Did he step on the mine's head, in the battle field of Afghan?
They are neither the enemy nor the friendly soldiers,
They are neither the arrogant nor the cunning creatures,
They are neither the noisy nor the clumsy scavengers,
They are the beautiful and humble pigeons.
I saw these mutilated pigeons frolicking in the lobby,
Where thousands of people walk everyday without folly,
To catch a train at Glasgow railway station in UK,
These poor little birds are wandering picturesque.
Who hurt these misfortune birds?
I looked up at the ventilators,
Where the nails are nailed,
That ripped the claws and legs of the birds.
May God save the Queen and her subjects,
including these limping hungry birds.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eggs
Catch that bird, catching does disgust
And sit it in your hand, like a canary.
It shall fly, flew it did, and lift it first,
This is to make it flight to enlist the fighter
Of the birds on a regular basis.
Catch or teach the birds so that birth may result in death.
Catch us always, for we are birds with eggs,
And eggs are given to us.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Love That Does Not Die
early morning
how can birds be seen inside this room?
how can an agnostic be so definite about
the blueness of the skies?
early morning
there is no sun here
where i have sacrificed so much
about writing
and i think of you
because i have loved you
such thoughts
grow flowers in the fertile fields of my tongue
my eyes become suns
my ears twin mountains
from my palms birds nest and lay their egss
in my heart
another universe is born
inside this room
the door shall not be opened
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beautiful Birds Of Peace
How Beautiful of birds
of the air,
seeing their awesome
wonderful flair.
So quiet it would be
without their sound
watching them as they
fly all around.
Sweet harmony do they make.
A lonesome world this would be,
for no birds making flight
these wonderful creatures I see.
Beautiful birds of nature
wonderful sounds to my ear
touching me with wonder,
so gentle with serenity
and so dear.
wrote 4-28-07
Pollution and Climate Change
First, of nature's course, it was the birds;
for theirs the air, above and over all;
knowing by intuition without need of words
as providential, seasoned, sure
as sparrow's fall;
and knowing too
how much to trust to men
who do not even trust each other.
It was, of nature's course, the snowy eagle
entrusted with the task:
the only bird who may look straight into the sun; and thus
to whom that message might be given, to ask,
to pass on to his lord; the only bird
whose plumage may reflect the sun's majestic rays,
and live; perhaps to bring a message back.
As to the message - was it just a sprig
of leaves from tallest tree - polluted, withered, black as crow?
or was it something inner in the words
as spoken on the flight from wintry sun to warmth, or
warmth to Northern spring?
They watched, the conference of the silent birds,
while snowy eagle, like the teepee's early morning smoke,
ascended higher, higher, into the sun's great eye,
which never man - eagle alone - may see;
and... do birds hope?
Or as the twilight falls upon the earth, accept
that what shall be, shall be?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Birds of Spring
Birds of spring they
bring on so many things
sounds they send
to each other,
that only they
can understand
in their sweet
cheerful harmony.
Sweet smell in
the air this
beautiful april day
listening to these creatures.
Taking in the warmth
of the sun that
is so overdue, blue
skies beauty to the eye.
Birds in flight
from one tree
to the other, getting
ready to produce life.
Cool breezes this
day so fine to hear
birds of spring echoing
music to my ear.
Birds of spring
to many to mention you all,
Robbins, Wrens and Cardinals
or a few I see, oh so beautiful.
To hear their chirping
wondering what they're saying
at this moment
will sit here for awhile.
Sounds this day
so relaxing is it
to listen to these
birds of spring.
wrote 4-3-07
Free Flight
Head on down the highway
Across the county line,
Ive had my fill of small town thrills
Gonna leave it all behind.
Free flight, free flight.
Im careless in my loving,
Shameless in my style,
If I get caught by the short n curlies
Ill just hide out for awhile.
Free flight, free flight.
On an on the road goes on
Itll go on forever,
An just the same Ill live my life,
Hell bent for leather.
Free flight, free flight.
Heaven knows its driving me crazy,
Its a feeling inside.
Heaven knows its in my blood
As long as I try, I just cant deny.
Free flight, come tomorrow dawn youll find me gone.
Free flight, make no bones about it, Im moving on.
Free flight, free flight, free flight.
Free flight, free flight, free flight.
Head on down the highway
Suitcase in your hand,
When you get down with your feet on the ground
I know youll understand.
Free flight, free flight.
Heaven knows its driving me crazy,
Its a feeling thats driving me wild.
Heaven knows its in my blood,
Fool if you try, you just cant deny.
Free flight, come tomorrow dawn youll find me gone.
Free flight, make no bones about it, Im moving on.
(solo)
Free flight, free flight, free flight...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At A Time When You Wanted To Leave On A Bright Morning (Villanelle)
From me do not take flight,
we should be happy at the brake of day
when the darkness is conquered by light.
In the morning suddenly everything is clear and bright,
even birds on the branches do twitter and play.
From me do not take flight,
know that my feelings for you are true and right,
are there in times of sorrow and when everything is gay,
when the darkness is conquered by light.
Even if at times we argue, at times in conversations fight
you still do love me even when you threaten to go away.
From me do not take flight,
sometimes you look lovely even through my tearful sight
and here now I beg you to stay,
when the darkness is conquered by light
and love me as intense as you did last night,
know my true feelings I pray.
From me do not take flight,
when the darkness is conquered by light.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Crap
Goldstein’s left footprints
In the snow, they go off
Toward the woods. Birds
Take flight at the sound of
Gunfire, their wings clipping
The branches of tall trees,
Disturbing snow; a fall of
Whiteness settling upon
Crimson stains; Goldstein’s
Dead eyes see nothing of this,
Hear nothing of birds in flight,
The open wound in his head
Seeps blood. Jackboots tread
Where Goldstein trod; the rifle
Silent now, hung over the sturdy
Shoulder, a cold hand gripping
The strap. The killer pauses at the
Edge of the woods, ready to pee
In the snow, time to ease and crap.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk Unafraid
As the sun comes up as the moon
Goes down
These heavy notions creep around
It makes me think
Long ago I was brought into
This life a little lamb
A little lamb
Courageous stumbling
Fearless was my middle name
But somewhere there i
Lost my way
Everyone walks the same
Expecting me to step
The narrow path theyve laid
They claim to
Walk unafraid
Ill be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me
High
Say keep within the boundaries if you want
To play
Say contradiction only makes it harder
How can I be
What I want to be
When all I want to do is strip away
These stilled constraints
And crush this charade
Shred this sad masquerade
I dont need no persuading
Ill trip fall pick myself up and
Walk unafraid
Ill be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me
High
If I have a bag of rocks to carry as I go
I just want to hold my head up high
I dont care what I have to step over
Im prepared to look you in the eye
Look me in the eye
And if you see familiarity
Then celebrate the contradiction
Help me when I fall to
Walk unafraid
Ill be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me
High
Walk unafraid
Ill be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me
High
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fifteen Acres
I
I cling and swing
On a branch, or sing
Through the cool, clear hush of Morning, O!
Or fling my wing
On the air, and bring
To sleepier birds a warning, O!
That the night's in flight,
And the sun's in sight,
And the dew is the grass adorning, O!
And the green leaves swing
As I sing, sing, sing,
Up by the river,
Down the dell,
To the little wee nest,
Where the big tree fell,
So early in the morning, O!
II
I flit and twit
In the sun for a bit
When his light so bright is shining, O!
Or sit and fit
My plumes, or knit
Straw plaits for the nest's nice lining, O!
And she with glee
Shows unto me
Underneath her wings reclining, O!
And I sing that Peg
Has an egg, egg, egg,
Up by the oat-field,
Round by the mill,
Past the meadow,
Down the hill,
So early in the morning, O!
III
I stoop and swoop
On the air, or loop
Through the trees, and then go soaring, O!
To group with a troop
On the gusty poop
While the wind behind is roaring, O!
I skim and swim
By a cloud's red rim
And up to the azure flooring, O!
And my wide wings drip
As I slip, slip, slip,
Down through the rain-drops,
Back where Peg
Broods in the nest
On the little white egg,
So early in the morning, O!
poem by James Stephens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dirge For Minette
I
Silently, silently the new morning awakes
and your hands are crossed over your breast
while you go to the eternal rest,
and deeply, deeply my heart aches.
II
Colourful new flowers are flowering,
with insects buzzing, birds with songs to sing
while I miss you
during this early spring.
III
Blue as your eyes the sky
is stretching, open and clear
while in it multitudes of birds fly
and I wish that you were here.
IV
Far too fleetingly you were with me
and this remains the earthly thing,
where no one is free
from death and the way that it stings.
V
In the early morning breeze at you grave
my words are fluttering here and there, fluttering
while in sorrow they rave
and even the willows are crying.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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