In the countryside eat cardoon, because at the castle you'll eat pigeon.
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The English countryside is the most staggeringly beautiful place. I can't spend as much time there as I like, but I like everything about it. I like fishing, I like clay- pigeon shooting.
quote by Guy Ritchie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Pigeon
Tony just brought
a pigeon
in his house
put it in a cage and
feed it
some grains
beside a bowl of
water
Every night since then
i cannot sleep
hearing always the sound
of a sobbing woman
grieving
i keep telling myself
that it is just
a pigeon temporarily
adopting to a momentary loss
of her freedom
Horrible nights
lots of horrible nights
the sounds of groaning griefs
are penetrating the walls of my mind
until one day
the pigeon died and Tony buried it
beside his house
now the pebbles are giving me
the silence of the dead
the air is so quiet
looking at an empty cage
somehow i feel guilty
not about the pigeon but about Tony
well, the story is quite long
what business do i have there?
last night i was thinking
what if it was Tony who died
and the pigeon went out of that cage
and buried him there
beside that lonely house?
shall i not hear the grieving sounds of
that pigeon again?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Confused Birds
Sometimes things happen the way you don't want them to,
There was a Pigeon and a Dove to guide the life through,
Together they ate, Together they flew,
The pigeon was ready to wait a life long,
But the Dove had a rough stance that you move on,
The Dove always wanted the Pigeon to be comfortable,
But always thrash think that she didn't deserve such awesome individual,
The matter was closely watched by a gardener,
He called them...
The Confused Birds.
poem by Vikrant Jog
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The only difference between a pigeon and the American farmer today is that a pigeon can still make a deposit on a John Deere.
quote by Jim Hightower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dilettante And The Critic
A BOY a pigeon once possess'd,
In gay and brilliant plumage dress'd;
He loved it well, and in boyish sport
Its food to take from his mouth he taught,
And in his pigeon he took such pride,
That his joy to others he needs must confide.
An aged fox near the place chanc'd to dwell,
Talkative, clever, and learned as well;
The boy his society used to prize,
Hearing with pleasure his wonders and lies.
"My friend the fox my pigeon must see
He ran, and stretch'd 'mongst the bushes lay he
"Look, fox, at my pigeon, my pigeon so fair!
His equal I'm sure thou hast look'd upon ne'er!"
"Let's see!"--The boy gave it.--"'Tis really not bad;
And yet, it is far from complete, I must add.
The feathers, for, instance, how short! 'Tis absurd!"
So he set to work straightway to pluck the poor bird.
The boy screamed.--"Thou must now stronger pinions supply,
Or else 'twill be ugly, unable to fly."--
Soon 'twas stripp'd--oh, the villain!--and torn all to pieces.
The boy was heart-broken,--and so my tale ceases.
He who sees in the boy shadow'd forth his own case,
Should be on his guard 'gainst the fox's whole race.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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After The Great Flood
after the great flood
it was the black crow which was first
allowed to fly,
Moses had confidence on its
aggression,
it did not come back you know that well,
it puked on dead flesh and
flew away
deciding on its own now
charting its own
destiny,
then it was the pigeon's turn to serve
coy and shy and yet obedient
it came back with a twig and a leaf
whether this is all symbolism or not
an interplay and contrast between black and white
crow and pigeon, good or evil
disobedience or impunity, i don't
go into a hairsplitting
or argument with you
but i have to admit, i like to be that black crow.
i never want to be the pigeon that you believe i am.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Castle in the Sand
I built castle in the sand
Reaching to the far off land
I gathered the sand to mount it high
Thinking to built a castle in the sky
But fate took a different path
The castle I had built was down at last
The breeze blew
The castle flew...
I now sit here all alone
Gathering the sand to rebuild a home
But what a dream I did see
To always have him near by me
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Laputa
Inspired by the epic anime,
'Laputa, Castle in the Sky',
I decided to build my own castle,
A castle that would fly!
At first I tested some bricks,
I lobbed them far and wide.
I lobbed them at my owner,
They hit him and he cried.
I tried with lumps of concrete,
And with some heavy breeze blocks.
I got a little despondent,
At the flightlessness of rocks.
But, I persevered.
I worked all day and night,
My owner made a bet that I would fail.
But I was finished by morning light.
I had built a flying castle!
My owner was rather heated.
He couldn't believe that I had won.
He claimed that I had cheated.
It was a flying castle,
as plain as any day.
My owner wasn't having it.
He's a bad loser, I'd say.
He said it wasn't real.
He said, 'It's not a proper thing, you loon!
'You've inflated a bouncy castle with helium'
'and made a big balloon! '
poem by Sebastian Seal
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Sleight of Hand
I put my handkerchief into your holey pocket
And take out a Pigeon,
Again I put the Pigeon into your pocket
And take out my handkerchief.
A middle aged woman with a singsong
Winked at me among the crowd at the roundabout
And it says willing to come with me.
What a real gimmick?
She took my fragile heart
Through the broken ribs
Without my knowledge.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Castle of Dream
Have you been there
in the castle of dream?
I've been there
in the castle of dream.
There were many people
of different colors,
of different clothes,
of different language,
in one long table
enjoying different foods
exchanging smiles
with pure gentle love
glowing in their eyes.
In the castle of dream,
I've been there...
just......behind the walls.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Japanese lullaby
Sleep, little pigeon, and fold your wings,--
Little blue pigeon with velvet eyes;
Sleep to the singing of mother-bird swinging--
Swinging the nest where her little one lies.
Away out yonder I see a star,--
Silvery star with a tinkling song;
To the soft dew falling I hear it calling--
Calling and tinkling the night along.
In through the window a moonbeam comes,--
Little gold moonbeam with misty wings;
All silently creeping, it asks, "Is he sleeping--
Sleeping and dreaming while mother sings?"
Up from the sea there floats the sob
Of the waves that are breaking upon the shore,
As though they were groaning in anguish, and moaning--
Bemoaning the ship that shall come no more.
But sleep, little pigeon, and fold your wings,--
Little blue pigeon with mournful eyes;
Am I not singing?--see, I am swinging--
Swinging the nest where my darling lies.
poem by Eugene Field
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Anthony, Bess, Clark, Diana, Edward, And Florence Are Returning Home
Returning Home
Those kids have nothing to worry about
The night is over
The castle has imploded into the sea
And the sun shines high in the sky
On this glorious countryside morning
They're going home at last
There's finally peace at last
Peace for Anthony
Peace for Bess
Peace for Clark
Peace for Diana
Peace for Edward
Peace for Florence
Peace for all their families now
The darkness is now gone for good
They're going home safely
They're walking home safely
poem by Justin Gildow
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Castle of glass
Take me down to the river bend
Take me down to the fighting end
Wash the poison from off my skin
Show me how to be whole again
Fly me up on a silver wing
Past the black where the sirens sing
Warm me up in a nova's glow
And dropp me down to the dream below
'Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of
glass
Hardly anything there for you to see
For you to see
Bring me home in a blinding dream,
Through the secrets that I have seen
Wash the sorrow from off my skin
And show me how to be whole again
'Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of
glass
Hardly anything there for you to see
For you to see
'Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of
glass
Hardly anything else I need to be
'Cause I'm only a crack in this castle of
glass
Hardly anything there for you to see
For you to see
For you to see
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
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Pigeons
There are many pigeons in the Cascais evening park and
see one I remember, the one that trips stylishly around
looking for crumbs, it looks at me, to see if I´m eating.
In May it was a baby on my terrace trying out its wings,
one day it succeeded and flew off.
A pigeon doesn’t remember its childhood, so it doesn’t
has the burden of remembering infancy, blames no one
when things go wrong. Two women come and sit on my
bench, talk about offspring who will not listen; pity they
have not understood, like a pigeon mother, to let go.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Pigeon's Plight
'(Craving from one place to another
For a false death with feathered life) '
Written in a paper-
A cushioned pigeon
Engrossed at my grimace ballad-
A dream finishing the final act to play-
The pigeon’s plight achieved the
Tensed past of beating waves...
“(Pigeons past, dream lasts
And the ballad still in turn....) ”
25/9/08
poem by Moushumi moushumi
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Barriers
You are in the castle.
I am off the castle.
In between, there is a moat.
My love is an optimist.
14.07.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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If I can generate enough income, I'd like to get a castle, a historic castle that I can restore.
quote by Henry Thomas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There was a castle called Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair.
quote by John Bunyan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Balmoral Castle
Beautiful Balmoral Castle,
Most handsome to be seen,
Highland home of the Empress of India,
Great Britain's Queen.
Your woods and waters and
Mountains high are most
Beautiful to see,
Near by Balmoral Castle
And the dark river Dee.
Then there's the hill of Cairngorm
To be seen from afar,
And the beautiful heathery hills
Of dark Lochnagar,
And the handsome little village-
The Castleton o' Braemar-
Which is most beautiful to see,
Near by Balmoral Castle
And the dark river Dee.
Then there's the handsome little church
Of Crathie- most beautiful to be seen ;
And the Queen goes there on Sunday
To hear the Word of God Most solemn and serene,
Which is most beautiful to see,
Nor far from Balmoral Castle
And the dark river Dee.
Then, when she finds herself
At leisure, she goes for to see
Her old female acquaintances
That lives on the river Dee,
And reads the Bible unto them,
Which is most beautiful to see,
Near by Balmoral Castle
And the dark river Dee.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Castle Walls
She ventured out from her castle walls
In hopes of meeting me,
I said: ‘we’ll flee to the furthest shores,
We’ll run to the far countree,
We’ll sit in bliss on a grassy slope
To see our love returned; ’
I looked again at the moat and saw
That all the boats were burned.
‘How shall I leave my castle walls
And all that keeps me free,
I fear the step that you wish to take
Could spell the end for me,
I wish to come, if I only dared, ’
She said in a sad reply,
The moat was still and the air was chill
And the moon was riding high.
I stood alone by the castle moat
As she turned to seek the warm;
‘The roads of life are a trap, ’ I cried,
‘But so is a thunderstorm,
So are the walls of a castle when
The mortar turns to dust,
So are the bolts on a castle gate
When the hinges start to rust.’
‘You weary me, I must be free, ’
The tower echoed, black,
‘As free as the castle walls allow, ’
I called in sadness back.
‘It’s not too late for the grassy slope
To see our love returned -’
I looked again at the moat and saw
That all the boats were burned.
12 July 1973
poem by David Lewis Paget
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