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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)

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Birds Nest
Have you not seen the bird
flying far, again and again
collecting straws to weave a nest-
a home- for its young ones to be.
As eggs are hatched
out come the young
chirping or crying, to be fed,
the bird flies again, and again
collecting grains
to feed the young
who cannot fly
It chews the grain but does not swallow
beak to beak it feeds young fellow
caressingly and lovingly
so all are fed properly.
Young get wings, by and by:
and coaxed by the mother bird;
attempt to fly.
Then suddenly one day
the young one flies far away
It knows not where: and
The nest gets barren,
Lonely...
The bird DOES NOT GRIEVE
OR DOES IT
We humans, we do not know.
I want to fly!
yes, you do.
where do you want to go?
i am looking for a new home
how does one grow wings?
i want to fly...
it is the most quiet conversation.
the man begs to understand
why the mouth he is blest with does not take the shape of a beak.
the bird sings of many lands
the man has not yet been to
the little brown bird's heart is a ray of sun
but the man does not know
inside the wars are all in the making
outside it is still calm
the bird and the man kiss
the bird flies
the man falls asleep
the man flies
the bird is dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A funny old bird is a pelican.
His beak can hold more than his belican.
Food for a week
He can hold in his beak,
But I don't know how the helican.
quote by by Dixon Lanier Merritt (1910)

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Weird-Bird
from the wire chirp
on the wire chirp
frantic head
to and fro
to and fro
chirp, chirp, chirp
little bird on a wire
head and beak
to and fro
to and fro
ten times in a second
tail up, tail down, tail up, tail down
the tight feathered bodice
doing a twist
legs angled tight on tiny wire
a tightrope walker
chirp, chirp, chirp
looking for some fun
looking for a companion to share its day
chirp, chirp, chirp
inspired by
Weird-Bird
Birds are flyin' south for winter.
Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,
Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',
Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.
He says, 'It's not that I like ice
Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes it's kind of nice
To be the only bird in town.'
Shel Silverstein
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Poem (‘In The Stump of The Old Tree...’)
In the stump of the old tree, where the heart has rotted out, there is a hole the length of a man’s arm, and a dank pool at the bottom of it where the rain gathers, and the old leaves turn into lacy skeletons. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees, where the hearts have rotted out, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and dank pools at the bottom where the rain gathers and old leaves turn to lace, and the beak of a dead bird gapes like a trap. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees with rotten hearts, where the rain gathers and the laced leaves and the dead bird like a trap, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and in every crevice of the rotten wood grow weasel’s eyes like molluscs, their lids open and shut with the tide. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees where the rain gathers and the trapped leaves and the beak and the laced weasel’s eyes, there are holes the length of a man’s arm, and at the bottom a sodden bible written in the language of rooks. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees where the hearts have rotted out there are holes the length of a man’s arm where the weasels are trapped and the letters of the rook language are laced on the sodden leaves, and at the bottom there is a man’s arm. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees where the hearts have rotted out there are deep holes and dank pools where the rain gathers, and if you ever put your hand down to see, you can wipe it in the sharp grass till it bleeds, but you’ll never want to eat with it again.
Contemporary Poetry and Prose, 7 (Nov. 1936), 129.
poem by Hugh Sykes Davies

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The Black Bird That Keeps On Flying
the black bird
keeps on flying
over my head
its wing tips
touch my hair
the black bird
weeps
and my mind
cannot ignore
it
it is seeing you
again
and it does not
know
what to do
with its beak
it wants to kiss you
but your eyes
are angry
it wants to land over
your hair
but they are hard
as wires
the black bird
has no nest for
its eggs
you never mind it
your mind
thinks always of
that white bird
in the sky
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Nectar Sweet
My humming bird heart
beats for you
faster still with you in sight;
but you my flower
elude me.
I flutter
mid-air in flight
above other flowers
but no nectar drips from my beak's visit;
no matter how far I plunge
toward some flower's-center
it's not yours, and I retreat.
I pause,
flutter away
without that sweet juice of yours
I crave.
Possessing it is my Obsessions' Obsession.
Nothing deters my eye
from my flower-mission;
neither cat
nor rival bird
challenge me
when they espy my determined ire,
as I put my sharpened beak on display,
exhibiting to them my humming bird speed
and my reckless need.
No, they shrink
away
with second thoughts
and leave me to my nectar quest.
Some flowers are beautiful,
but none so beautiful as yours;
this is set in me for all time-
even if I,
nectarless,
become weak and falter-
no longer able to fly
and plunge spiraling to the ground;
I will have you my sweet
or no nectar at all.
poem by Lonnie Hicks

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Because It Sings....
there is a man inside the cage
but you cannot tell that he is a man
because
by all appearances of it
it has black wings, sharp claws, it is muted
by a beak
it can only sing in syllables
it is wrapped by
shiny feathers
it is a bird, a black bird and by all means
you cannot tell
that it is angry
because it sings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Leo And Honey Bird
u like to be a leo man
but i like to be a honey bird
i am honey bird
iam honey bird
may u are strong
may u are tough
but the little bird
is too smart too
and u are alone
and u never care
but this happy bird
has many friends
the life is to share
the life is too short
let we share this short
to share within love
then we are proud
to share our home
with the little bird
not with u -leo no
although u in share
with us in the earth
i am not proud
how we are alone
but about honey bird
we are all
proud
aboutthe little bird.
poem by Sallam Yassin

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Trapped Again
Here I am baby, right where you found me
Trying to break these chains that surround me
If I look a little different, its because Ive changed
Half-painted pictures are all that remains
I cant let my past mistakes
Let em bring me down
I aint waitin on no angel of mercy
Ive tried my best and I cant help myself
And Im trapped again
And I cant get out without losing you
And Im trapped again
Why cant you feel what Im going through
Im trapped again
I need an answer girl, cant you see
Im trapped again
Come and rescue me
Monday morning came so fast
What a fool to think that dreams would last
Close my eyes and its still so clear
Remember the night girl, the world disappeared
Cant let the hand of fate
Let it drag me down
I cant get no angel of mercy
I cam to stay but I got swept away
And Im trapped again
And I cant get out without losing you
And Im trapped again
Why cant you feel what Im going through
Im trapped again
I need an answer girl, cant you see
Im trapped again
Come and rescue me
Cant let the hand of fate
Let it drag me down
I cant get no angel of mercy
I cam to stay but I got swept away
And Im trapped again
And I cant get out without losing you
And Im trapped again
Why cant you feel what Im going through
Im trapped again
I need an answer girl, cant you see
Im trapped again
Come and rescue me
And Im trapped again
And I cant get out without losing you
And Im trapped again
Why cant you feel what Im going through
Im trapped again
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trapped In A Box
Trapped in a box of tremendous size
It distorts my vision, it closes my eyes
Attracts filthy flies and pollutes in the skies
Sucks up our lives and proliferates lies
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box, four walls as sky
Got a screen for a window about two feet wide
My mind rides and slides as my circuits are fried
No room for thought, use the box as my guide
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To lifes paradox
Were all trapped in a box
Trapped in a box Im not alone
I know of others with a box as their home
Light only enters from a crack or a hole
This is not enough for a human to grow
Trapped in a box
Chorus: always wanting a different view
Instant gratification for you
Reality gone in a single click
Just hope that that switch wont stick
Trapped in a box my life becomes void
All I thought for myself is now destroyed
Controlling my mind, what to eat, what to buy
Sublinal rules: how to live, how to die
Trapped in a box
song performed by by Gwen Stefani

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weird-Bird
Birds are flyin' south for winter.
Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,
Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',
Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.
He says, 'It's not that I like ice
Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes it's kind of nice
To be the only bird in town.'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein

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This Afternoon....
you see a black bird
moving opposite your direction
there is no identification for any intimacy
and tired perhaps of
means to get to know you
it flies away
northbound
perhaps someone with the
capacity for intimacy
waits there
who knows
what the language of the black bird is
its beak does not
woodpeck
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The bird who has always possessed a beak, does not pick up for another.
Trapped Today, Trapped Tomorrow
The days are gone when the girls
Used to kiss his nose
To wake him up in the morning
He looks at his wife once she was young
But now shes older
Than himself and all that happend without warning
Trapped today, trapped tomorrow
Trapped in love, and trapped in sorrow
Sorry my train, wont stop at your station
Trapped today, trapped tomorrow
Trapped in love, and trapped in sorrow
Sorry my train, wont stop at your station
And no explanations
The days are gone when the boys
Used to bring her flowers every night
Just to please her
There was this man, now shes his wife.
Theyve got two kids
He works from 9 to 5
He put her in a freezer
Trapped today, trapped tomorrow...
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trapped
Well it seems like Im caught up in your trap again
And it seems like Ill be wearin the same ol chains
Good will conquer evil and the truth will set you free
Then I know someday Ill find the key
Then I know somewhere Ill find the key
Well it seem like Ive been playin the game way too long
And it seems the game I played has made you strong
Well when the game is over, I wont walk out a loser
And I know that Ill walk out of here again
And I know that someday Ill walk out of here again
But now Im trapped...oh yeah!
Trapped...oh yeah yeah!
Trapped...oh yeah!
Trapped...oh yeah!
Now it seems like Ive been sleepin in your bed too long
And it seems like youve been meanin to do me harm
But Ill teach my eyes to see beyond these walls in front of me
And someday Ill walk out of here again
Yeah I know someday Ill walk out of here again
(chorus)
Well it seem like Ive been playin the game way too long
And it seems the game I played has made you strong
Because Im trapped...oh yeah!
Trapped...oh yeah yeah!
Trapped...oh yeah yeah!
Trapped...oh yeah!
Im trapped...oh yeah yeah!
Trapped...oh yeah yeah
Trapped...oh yeahhhhhh
Trapped....oh yeahhhh
Im trapped.
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Beautiful Bird That Cannot Escape From The Cage
there is a beautiful bird caged in my house
its flumes are red
its beak of course is black
its claws neat and clean
and cannot scratch
its eyes blank
its feathers dull
(perhaps she is bored to death
but she is still that beautiful bird caged in the heart
of my house)
when she sings
usually in the night before everyone sleeps
everyone hears
what sadness lies in the heart of its
throat
i know that it wants to escape from the cage in the heart of the house
but someone more cruel
wants it caged
forever
there is a beautiful red bird caged in my heart
i want it set free
she understands it well
she wants to be free
i know it too well
but things will just be what it is
there is nothing we can do
she is the beautiful red feathered bird caged
and shall never be free
like the stairs, like the walls, like the beams like the stars
shall this red bird be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The bird that pecks at a rock trusts in the strength of its beak.
Ignored. (a Seagull Story)
Ignored. (A seagull story)
At the seaside restaurant it was busy everyone was eating lobsters,
I tried to catch the waiters’ eye. I was ignored and got the feeling
that I was Invisible, or that I was so small that my head didn’t reached
over the table. A seagull landed on my table a beautiful bird,
yellow beak and feet, plumage snowy white its wings light grey/blue
and its eyes were green; it also had the aroma of the Atlantic Ocean.
Waiter came, looked at the bird asked what it wanted, lobster, I said
when the dish came I gave it to the bird. Got up, left and no one tried
to stop me.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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