Live with vultures, and become a vulture; live with crows, and become a crow.
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Live with vultures, become a vulture; live with crows, become a crow.
The Crow and The Butterfly
Ever wonder why the Crow chases the Butterfly?
Have you ever heard the Crow let out it's cry?
I think I found out why...
It's quite the interesting story, I had to pry..
The Butterfly's beauty, the Crow's will never match.
The Crow's life is nothing compared the the Butterfly's since it's first hatch.
If you are good enough to get a Butterfly, that is quite a catch.
Get a Crow somehow and it gets thrown right back out to the patch.
The Crow has had it so much easier than the Butterfly.
Straight jealousy from the Crow because they have to share the sky.
The Butterfly's flight is reason to stare, the Crow's just reason to cry.
Everyone stops to get a glance of a Buttflies, a few Crows and people pass by.
So if you ever hear a Crow cry,
Or see a Butterfly being chased by a Crow,
Just think how bad that Crow wants to be a Butterfly.....
poem by Joe Gosart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Old Crows
Two old crows sat on a fence rail.
Two old crows sat on a fence rail,
Thinking of effect and cause,
Of weeds and flowers,
And nature's laws.
One of them muttered, one of them stuttered,
One of them stuttered, one of them muttered.
Each of them thought far more than he uttered.
One crow asked the other crow a riddle.
One crow asked the other crow a riddle:
The muttering crow
Asked the stuttering crow,
"Why does a bee have a sword to his fiddle?
Why does a bee have a sword to his fiddle?"
"Bee-cause," said the other crow,
"Bee-cause,
B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B-cause."
Just then a bee flew close to their rail: --
"Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZZ."
And those two black crows
Turned pale,
And away those crows did sail.
Why?
B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B-cause.
B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B-cause.
"Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZZ."
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crow song
Crow singing...
Crow singing...
Every budy did not lision...
Crow was singing...
Ka ak a kka kk ka aa...
Song was not ugly...
But...
Crow voice was
Ugly...
So...
Crow singing...
Non stoped...
Crow did not singing for
not for you and me...
only at crows...
So...
Crows singing....
With ugly voice loudeley...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Do the Crows Go
I see and hear less Crows in Spring.
Where do the Crows go?
While the Morning Doves chirp,
And the Bluebirds sing.
At dawn I use to hear the Crows...
From the rooftops and fences,
Do that 'crowing' thing.
And now that Spring has arrived,
I do not see a Crow around.
Where do the Crows go?
That's what I want to know!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If your friend is already dead, and being eaten by vultures, I think it's okay to feed some bits of your friend to one of the vultures, to teach him to do some tricks. But ONLY if you're serious about adopting the vulture.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Orange County
Orange County, home of cultures
where the rats will sometimes race,
now is also home for vultures
dropping shit on every face,
as well as cars you have to wash
every time you’re in the county.
People will not think you’re posh,
covered with this avian bounty,
if you live in Newport Beach,
or in Irvine, or in Tustin;
though the bird shit looks like bleach
or the sands of St. Augustine,
for there is a disconnect
separating O.C. culture
from my culture in L.A.,
since I am a culture vulture,
and the County’s birds of prey
bother me, so I hold fonder
woods of Beverly where I,
peacefully inside my Honda,
never vulture shit espy.
3/10/05
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Live
Clear out your mind
Look to your past and see what you can find
Stole soul afraid
Of the prophets perfect picture falls away
Is this the life that we choose to live
Or is this the life that has been giving
Now is the time to see what my life should be
What is mine!?
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
It's a timeless rage
For many people praying to be saved
Truth is so strong
It needs lights to guide it so it can carry on
I've seen blood on my hands
Am I dead or is this where it begins
I feel the shame
For my friend who put a bullet in his brain!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As the Crow flies
There are certain species in the crow family.
This entirely glossy black bird never sings.
Carrion crow feeds on grain and the house crow is a reputed scavenger.
Fish crow eats fish and all these species live in the handsome and dangerous Man-crow who sings at all but never flies?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Common Crow
The Common Crow, "Caw-Caw"—with its familiar sound
Is a harmless bird very adaptable on land
Almost all over the world it is invariably found
Except in South America, Antarctica and New Zealand.
It is of average size—in color—grey and black
And abounds, teems and thrives in many numbers
Where other birds' survival is considerably slack
As it is the most intelligent of its bird family members.
The Ravens, Magpies, Rooks, the Black-birds
And the Jays—all belong to the family of the crow
They are all hunting migratory birds
Who forage together like the crow.
It has shining black feathers, is clever and curious
It is omnivorous and the diet is very diverse
It eats grains, rodents, insects and is mischievous
And swoops down to grasp things from man's source.
It roosts in large trees high up
Each mating pair has its own nest
Which usually takes one to two weeks to build up
Gathering leaves, feathers, sticks and twigs best.
Baby crows stay in the nest
For up to two months before leaving
The mother crow guards them with zest
And the father crow feeds the family striving.
The young are flesh-colored and born blind
Their eyes open for the first time after five days
The young ones- the family together mind
The elder fledglings tend to help in their own ways.
In Hinduism it is customary to offer food
To the crow before taking the meal
And it is supposed during ‘Shraddha ‘expired ones would
Take food and offerings through the crow's feel.
The crow often lives together in large families
An assembly of crows called a ‘flock of murder'
Forge together and defend their territories
Even high up in the air and down under.
It caws and calls the other crows to its station
To take part of the food that is found
It shows signs of planning communication
Which man must consider and himself bound.
The bird's propensity to raid crops of grain bead
And storing tidbits in trees and crevices in bark
Is the reason ‘Scare crows' are put up to mislead
The crows flock of flights on the crops to embark.
Many crows are surprisingly monogamous
They mate for life and are throughout a pair
The crow belongs to the species Corvus
And up to twenty years it may live with care.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Victory
Victory is ours!
Said one crow to the other,
As they soared in the sky above.
For below them they had spied
Golden corn, that was ripe,
From which, they would have their feast.
Tantalizing ears of gold
Laying out row upon row
Though as a river when the wind blowed.
'And no one is there'!
Exclaimed one crow in the air
'To protect that golden hair'.
So victory is ours!
Exclaimed the crows beginning there dive
Upon the corn, coming into sight.
But then shots rang out,
And two crows fell to the ground
As the corn waived in the wind.
Then walked two farmers to the crows
Who were hidden out of view
To observe the birds which flew.
Then one farmer spoke to the other
About the corn they defended together,
Exclaiming, 'victory is ours, over all others'.
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Long Long Ago
On the
The
Street...
Crow
was eated
Some of food
Call ka... ka...
All crow was
Coming...
Eating food...
Crow was
Only flying bird
Thay was
Eat help for
Each crows...
But...
The man canno't
Do...!
Why...
Human
Sens was
Dead on man+men's
Long long ago...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cant Live Without You
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
You stand in front of the band
With all those scarves in your hands
I see you play imaginary guitars
You people shaking your heads
Right till the end of the set
You really turn me on wherever we are
Cant live, cant live without you
Cant live, cant live without you
Cant live, cant live without you
Cant live, cant live without you
Put your hands in the air
So I can see you are there
I wanna see all your lights shining on
Want you to stand up and dance
Gonna leave you no chance
To take a breath between each single song
Cant live, cant live without you
Cant live, cant live without you
Cant live, cant live without you
Cant live, cant live without you
Stand up and shout
Were ready to rock, were ready to roll
Stand up and shout
Are you ready, are you ready
Come on and get it!
Cant live, cant live without you
Cant live, cant live without you
Cant live, cant live without you
Cant live, cant live without you
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oops
“oh, it was an accident
i didn’t mean to hurt you”
how many times have i heard that…
i can’t count
too many
and i think
yeah, right
you’re not sorry
and never will be
you’ll always leave me hanging
on that single thread
hanging onto one hope
you’re not sorry
and never will be
screaming through my window
you’re not sorry
and now my words pay you back…
oops, it was an accident
i didn’t mean to hurt you
and laughing out into the darkness
send a dove-
no, you’re not worthy of a dove-
a pigeon?
a crow?
a vulture?
perfect, a vulture
send a vulture
to take a whisper to you
of how much i’m hurting
maybe that will teach you
give you a taste of yourself
and i’m disgusted
again and again
again and again and again
again and again and again and again…
oops
farewell summer GOOD_BYE
I live in Lake District in Turkey
for four years
as a permanent resident
after retirment
It is the hometown of my wife
rose district
iti is also called
the city Isparta
famous with her roses
especially with oil roses
rose oı ls
spilling on all over the world
scenting differently
the off spring are walkş ng
in obidiency
and silently and politely
holding their kins hands tightly
what a sight
but this summer
roses are in bankruptcy
nowadays
the purple and pink thistles
are turning brownish yellow
the sparrows..the finches...the goldfinches
are entering the uncultivated gardens scarcely
they have lost most of their joys
the sunflowers are opening wide
seeing the hottest sun
the butterflies are flying joyfully
the ancient house seems more desolate
her walls are mor wrinkled this year
at nights
ı cannot see any light
where are the olden women
living there
coping with themselves and life
the poplars around are hissing and whispering
in the winds
the green began to yellow
all my hopes are hollow
the crows
crow crow crow
and the madman
crows just like them
in the morning
the hazelnuts are still hanging on the trees
the grain be cut and scythed
some stains fell on the weather
ı feel
the hot days
will not last much further
farewell summer
good_bye
oh the last butterfly of summer
fly fly fly
when you are able to fly
poem by Metin Sahin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crows
THEN, suddenly, I was aware indeed
Of what he said, and was revolving it:
How, in the night, crows often take to wing,
Rising from off the tree-tops in Drumbarr,
And flying on: I pictured what he told.
The crows that shake the night-damp off their wings
Upon the stones out yonder in the fields,
The first live things that we see in the mornings;
The crows that march across the fields, that sit
Upon the ash-trees' branches, that fly home
And crowd the elm-tops over in Drumbarr;
The crows we look on at all hours of light,
Growing, and full, and going these black beings have
Another lifetime!
Crows flying in the dark
Blackness in darkness flying; beings unseen
Except by eyes that are like to their own
Trespassers' eyes!
And you, old man, with eyes so quick and sharp,
Who've told me of the crows, my fosterer;
And you, old woman, upon whose lap I've lain
When I was taken from my mother's lap;
And you, young girl, with looks that have come down
From forefathers, my kin ye have another life
I've glimpsed it, I becoming trespasser-
Blackness in darkness flying like the crows!
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is The Way
This.......this is the way
This is the way I wanna live
Im going through changes
This is the way I wanna live
From this day on noone is going to tell me
What I should do or what I should not
That aint the way,
The way that it shall be fight it all the way
So let them vultures prey on each other
Dont let them spoil it youve come this far
Coming out like a force of nature
This is the shape of things to come...
This.......this is the way
This is the way I wanna live
Im going through changes
( coming up, coming up )
This is the way I wanna live
So if youre feeling sort of down & out
Dont loose ya faith, wipe away the doubt
You must take a stand thats what it is about
If nothing else works just shout!
Youre no baloney homo sapien
Youre the original king of the hill again
Coming out like a force of nature
This is the shape of things to come...
This.......this is the way
This is the way I wanna live
Im going through changes
( coming up, coming up )
This is the way I wanna live
song performed by by E-type
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crow On The Cradle
(from the soundtrack to no nukes; peformed live by jackson browne with graham nash & david lindley)
The sheeps in the meadow
The cows in the corn
Now is the time for a child to be born
Hell laugh at the moon
And cry for the sun
And if its a boy hell carry a gun
Sang the crow on the cradle
And if it should be that this babys a girl
Never you mind if her hair doesnt curl
With rings on her fingers
And bells on her toes
And a bomber above her wherever she goes
Sang the crow on the cradle
The crow on the cradle
The black and the white
Somebodys baby is born for a fight
The crow on the cradle
The white and the black
Somebodys baby is not coming back
Sang the crow on the cradle
Your mother and father will sweat and theyll slave
To build you a coffin and dig you a grave
Hush-a-bye little one, never you weep
For weve got a toy that can put you to sleep
Sang the crow on the cradle
Bring me my gun, and Ill shoot that bird dead
Thats what your mother and father once said
The crow on the cradle, what can we do
Ah, this is a thing that Ill leave up to you
Sang the crow on the cradle
Sang the crow on the cradle
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Crow Of Salvation
As the crow sits alone
he waits for a soul to rise
a soul that is lost but not broken
he will lead that soul to salvation
As the soul rises
the crow guides him
to the land of freedom
As the soul sees
through the crows eyes
he knows that this is the beginning
not the end
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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I Can Live Without........
I can live without my right arm
I don't need two
I can live without some fingers
I'll still have a few
I can live without my music
It might make me blue
But i can live without it
This i promise you
I can live without my paycheck
I've just got a few debts due
I can live without my iron
The creases will fall through
I can live without my senses
This is all true
I can live without my mobile
And my make-up too
Can't you see the only thing
That's not on this list is you
poem by Lucy Vernezze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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