He who has to do with foxes must look after his hen-roost.
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Sound Of Sheep
The sheep are soundless in the snow,
Sleepless for the night as it stoops;
Aggression has appeared for the lairs,
As I have risen for the keeping of foxes.
Exhaling now and then, we are gray in the mind,
Life is dazzling with a vortex of guidance;
Anger has stunned us for the hope is near
For the foxes to retreat and rout, the auction is so near.
It is agitated, and been clear at hand
That foxes number the dozens in sleep.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Helpless Woman
He and she and they can persecute
Number of times knowingly
Torturing her by many means they invent
Pleasure is theirs.She, wounded unhappily
No way of guarding herself.
God! Foxes should be spiked only by God
Will they be sorry? no, hope not
Some are born to repent not
When they turn to be repaid themselves
Will she redeem her happy youth?
Gone are her days in the den of foxes;
Foxes harassing others into the flaming hearth.
One foot onto the threshold of death
Dire her wish to be rescued
Ere fastened in her burial sheath
Frowning are her words'cursed
Are you! others treated
Vehemently under your feet crushed
You be crushed by the fury of God! '
poem by Indira Renganathan
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When Your Sins Come Home to Roost
When you fear the barber’s mirror when you go to get a crop,
Or in sorrow every morning comb your hair across the top:
When you titivate and do the little things you never used—
It is close upon the season when your sins come home to roost.
Many were the sins of others and you never were to blame,
Some were sins you shared in common—you must suffer all the same;
Some were sins of wasted hours with the wine cup or a mate,
But you cannot share the burden—and they come in duplicate.
Oh! you’ll find the fowls are heavy and their claws are sharp and deep—
They will bow your head in working, they will jerk you from your sleep,
And so many hands are eager just to give your back a boost
On the road to wreck and ruin when your sins come home to roost.
But you don’t let on they’re roosting and you take some only way,
And you never whine or guzzle and you neither curse nor pray;
You will never for an instant let your lower lip be loosed—
But you stand up like a soldier when your sins come home to roost!
And you’ll find them growing lighter till you find room for a few
Of the sins of other mortals who have weaker souls than you:
Then you’ll smile, and not too sadly, at old sins reintroduced—
And you’ll be a man in many when your sins come home to roost.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Song of Solomon 2: 15
Catch for us the foxes,
the little foxes
that ruin the vineyards,
our vineyards that are in bloom.
Identify the sons of bitches
Those littered curs
Whose gluttonous manner
Leaves naught for us and ours.
Catch for us the greedy
The avarice few
Who take that which is earned
collectively with toil and tears.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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On Seeing My First Fox
Travelling on a train through Surrey, close to Virginia Water –
Due to engineering works, my route had been slightly altered –
I decided to look out of the window, so I turned my head,
And it was then I spotted a lightning flash of orangey-red.
Of course, I’d seen many pictures of foxes in books and on TV,
But an actual living, breathing one, had never been seen by me.
Thrilled by what I was seeing, I gave a small gasp of delight;
It was the first time I’d seen a fox, so it was a memorable sight.
I was excited at seeing the fox, and I was unable to hide my surprise.
Foxes are one of my favourite animals and I couldn’t believe my eyes.
He was on the embankment, and, from the train, he headed away.
I only glimpsed the fox quite briefly, but it really made my day.
I’ve been lucky enough to glimpse a few more foxes since then,
But you never can tell where they will turn up or, indeed, when.
On a train journey to Birmingham, I was as watchful as can be:
Luck was with me that day, as I saw not one, not two, but three!
I spotted a fox, carrying its prey in its mouth, crossing over a field.
Foxes need to eat to stay alive, but I felt sorry for the rabbit it killed.
My sightings of them, over the years, I have noted down in my diary.
I love their sleek outline, long, thick bushy tail, and their fur so fiery.
They are a fine animal in appearance, but they can be a real pest;
They can cause havoc, when they hunt like a mad thing possessed.
Despite having been on many trains, sightings of foxes are rare;
So if I’m lucky enough to spot one, I can’t help but sit and stare.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Bohemian; A Flyleaf in the book of morals
He makes his roost on an uprooted and a flamboyant tree.
The wingless bird is longing to fly.
They divide the earth and inside the barriers build their own prisons
In different colors and shapes it seems.
They fly in dreams along the illusory sky and smile, cry, sing and dance.
The grown-up offspring struggle to flutter over their new roost.
The elders isolate in their old gloomy shacks and lament.
The dumb earth knows everything,
Yet her dialogue is a dead language in morbidity.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Pidgeon Roost Hollow
I'm living upon Pidgeon Roost Hollow-Where the sun seldom ever shines-Trying hard to make a dollar-Working in these dreary coal mines-I'm not happy on Pidgeon Roost Hollow-Tears are streaming down my face-If I ever get enough money-I'm sure gonna leave this place-I could never find the right woman-That I wanted for my wife-I had to accept the painful truth-I'll be a batchlor all of my life-I'll travel away down south-Where the days are filled with sun-I'll try to save enough money -To buy a little home for one.
poem by Joy Thacker
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The Dragon of the Black Pool
Deep the waters of the Black Pool, colored like ink;
They say a Holy Dragon lives there, whom men have never seen.
Beside the Pool they have built a shrine; the authorities
have established a ritual;
A dragon by itself remains a dragon, but men can make it a god.
Prosperity and disaster, rain and drought, plagues and pestilences—
By the village people were all regarded as the Sacred Dragon’s doing.
They all made offerings of sucking-pig and poured libations of wine;
The morning prayers and evening gifts depended on a “medium’s” advice.
When the dragon comes, ah!
The wind stirs and sighs
Paper money thrown, ah!
Silk umbrellas waved.
When the dragon goes, ah!
The wind also—still.
Incense-fire dies, ah !
The cups and vessels are cold.
Meats lie stacked on the rocks of the Pool’s shore;
Wine flows on the grass in front of the shrine.
I do not know, of all those offerings, how much the Dragon eats;
But the mice of the woods and the foxes of the hills are continually drunk and sated.
Why are the foxes so lucky?
What have the sucking-pigs done,
That year by year they should be killed, merely to glut the foxes?
That the foxes are robbing the Sacred Dragon and eating His sucking-pig,
Beneath the nine-fold depths of His pool, does He know or not?
The Causes of War
On January 1st, foxes deeply irritated overnight by
Black dogs barking demanding Political Scepter
In the Morning, the foxy Governor stood by hind legs
Looking side to side, which dog to be thrown to
Finally, to wrong the red dog that fluked in the next desert
And the foxes left, the red dog became the new master
Began saying a black dog can’t rule, lead or govern
“No black dog shall hold public office”
National constitution first Article reads
This political injustice, inequality and discrimination
In such prinking sensation principle caused
The black dogs to sharpen their teeth
On January 1st, the foxes deeply irritated overnight by
Black dogs barking demanding the Social rod
In the Morning, the foxy Governor stood by hind legs
Looking side to side, which dog to be thrown to
Finally, to wrong the red dog that fluked in next desert
And the foxes left, the red dog became the new master
Declared Gemono – his religion, as state religion
Virgono – his culture, as state culture
And said all dogs be Virginian – his nationality
He outlawed the black dog religion and culture
As heresy and Immoral
This blasphemy and sacrilegious in such
Manner caused war between the two dogs
On January 1st, the foxes deeply irritated overnight by
The black dogs barking demanding the foxes to leave their land
In the Morning, the foxes left, the red dogs rushed in their houses
Became the new owners of the houses
Began using Gemonoic laws to govern the black dogs
“If a black dog picks a slice of meat from butchery
A tooth of the dog is removed
If black dog tail touches gown of red dog
The dog’s tail is cut off
If black dog steps on the red dog mate
The leg that stepped on the mate is cut off”
This cruel and inhuman punishment caused biting between the red and the black dog
On January 1st, the foxes deeply irritated overnight by
The black dogs barking demanding the foxes to leave
The foxes left, the red dog became the new master
Began stealing taxes, gold and oil causing
A cycle of poverty and disadvantages and uneven development
Calling the black dogs slaves and sub – humans
Even the black dog that don’t lick the eye of their puppies underwent this economic injustice and humiliating racism
Caused bloodshed between
The black dogs and the red dogs
Note.on January 1 1956 Sudan got Independent from Britain
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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You Will Be Moved
Performed by mavis staples
Composed by prince
U will be moved when the baby lets out his very first cry
U will be moved when u think of how hard hell have 2 try
Hell grow up on an empty stomach, but hell try his best 2 listen
2 the teacher readin from a schoolbook with half the pages missin
Chorus:
Surely when the rain comes, u will be moved
La da da da da
See the video
U will be moved, and u will be when the baby makes all the grades
U will be moved, and u will be when they still dont hire him anyway
Moved by a system without one single guarantee
That an education is the answer and love will set us free
Chorus
Oh, u will be moved when the rain comes, oh yes, u will be moved
When the streets overflow with angry souls, thats when u see the truth
When the pain that uve inflicted comes back on your door 2 roost (back on your door 2 roost)
Thats when ull see the future (future), but u wont see u
Chorus
U will be moved when the whip comes down on the back of one of your own
U will be moved when u look 4 compassion but u find ure all alone
Moved, and u will be when u are, thats when ull know
That the bread u share is better than the blood that your deeds have caused 2 flow
(that the bread is better than the blood)
Chorus
Hey, u will be moved when the rain comes, oh yes, u will be moved
When the streets all flow with angry souls, thats when ull see the truth
When the pain that uve inflicted comes back on your door 2 roost (back on your door 2 roost)
Thats when ull see the future (future), but u wont see u
I said surely when the rain comes, u will be moved
La da da da da (la da da da da)
See the video
Hey, surely, surely, surely (when the rain comes)
Surely yall
Ow, la da da da da
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's Going On With The Chickens?
What's going on with the chickens?
'No one really knows exactly how all of this started.
Or wish to connect any of this,
To the making of common sense.
They are baffled.
We are baffled.
And since it was reported,
Those chickens were going home to roost...
Well,
The abundance of eggs they once had laid...
Has been limited to quite a few.
And 'now'...
Someone has decided to use them,
In some foolish sexual preference dispute.'
And...
Who is that guy tied up to the chair?
'He was the one who first declared,
A suspicion he had that chickens everywhere...
Were preparing to come home to roost.'
Oh yes...
I remember.
He was the one daring to tell the truth about the chickens.
And he was labelled a racist too.
'What are they calling the people,
Choosing to protect their rights...
Not to cater to those with same sex appetites? '
Conveniently they have called them conservatives.
'Has everyone lost their minds? '
I have no idea.
But grateful I am to be a vegetarian.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Winter Terror
As the days grow shorter and nights longer,
the rabbits change color and the foxes change too...
While trappers grow excited,
to go out and get a few.
This is because the change of color,
and the money for pelts...
Some make the fur and skin into,
fancy leather belts.
During winter rabbits and foxes,
need to run and hide...
If they were caught,
you'd bet they died.
Family
Family can be difficult,
sometimes even hard...
Either way you always get,
a birthday card.
You may disagree,
wtih Mom or Dad...
Then you might remember,
all the good times you've had.
You'll start to cry,
and then they say...
'A family we are,
a family we'll stay.'
poem by Cally A. Nixon
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Three Kinds of People
The books of my history
Begins with comedy
And end with tragedy
“Son”, do you know this
Spontaneous?
If you don’t know
Don’t mind
Your father will tell you.
There are three kinds of people
But the history knows only two
The first are foxy foxes
Who do right things and
Great good deeds
They stand at the top of history
The second are mad dogs
Who do wrong things and
Great evil deeds
They stand at the bottom of history
The third are piggy hyenas
Who are neither wise nor foolish?
Who cannot do right or wrong?
The history doesn’t know them
They have no chapter in history book
Can you choose among them for
Your inspiration and if you
Can heed my advice
The foxes are the best stars
To stick to.
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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London is a roost for every bird.
quote by Benjamin Disraeli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A wise fox will never rob his neighbours hen roost.
Curses, like chickens, always come home to roost.