The chickens don't mourn when the poulterer dies.
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Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens
Last night I dreamed of chickens,
there were chickens everywhere,
they were standing on my stomach,
they were nesting in my hair,
they were pecking at my pillow,
they were hopping on my head,
they were ruffling up their feathers
as they raced about my bed.
They were on the chairs and tables,
they were on the chandeliers,
they were roosting in the corners,
they were clucking in my ears,
there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see...
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.
poem by Jack Prelutsky
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A Good Man
I
A good man never dies--
In worthy deed and prayer
And helpful hands, and honest eyes,
If smiles or tears be there:
Who lives for you and me--
Lives for the world he tries
To help--he lives eternally.
A good man never dies.
II
Who lives to bravely take
His share of toil and stress,
And, for his weaker fellows' sake,
Makes every burden less,--
He may, at last, seem worn--
Lie fallen--hands and eyes
Folded--yet, though we mourn and mourn,
A good man never dies.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Eggxample
What came first chickens or eggs?
Chickens of course!
Chickens have legs!
Chickens have feathers,
Eggs have a shell,
How would you like your eggs, done well?
This may be a 'yolk',
But consider it folk!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Much More Work to Do
Why are those chickens running around,
And their heads have been cut off?
'They've been conditioned that they are not chickens.
They've been programmed to believe they are constituents.
And that's the name they prefer.
It has stuck with them!
Like feathers attached to birds.'
You are what you believe, you know?
'I know!
And those heads?
They've never used them anyway.
So the running around,
With their heads cut off the way they do?
They've been told only 'chickens' do that!
And as luck would have it...
They can't see themselves that way!
No heads?
No eyes!
What about all those pots you've got?
'Well...
We've been promising to get one in each pot!
And that's the dilemma.
Like I said...
They can't 'see' themselves as chickens.
Nor do they believe,
We can get one in each pot!
So they are running around...
As if a lottery to be played,
Will be stopped.
And...
I don't have to tell you,
There's a lot of convincing.
With much more work to do.
None of this was planned too well.'
Or at all!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The World Of Either Or
you cannot have the best of
both worlds
when you have all those chickens
you have to sacrifice your flowers
these chickens eat flowers for breakfast
on the other hand
when you keep those flowers
you must first kill all the chickens
as i once told you, this is the world
of
either or
not both
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If you follow the lead of the cockerel, you'll be led to the poulterer.
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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Aint Nobody Here But Us Chickens
(j. cramer/j. whitney)
One night farmer brown was taken the air
Locked up the barnyard with the greatest of care
Down in the henhouse somethin stirred
When he shouted,whos there? , this is what he heard
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
So calm yourself, stop that fuss, aint nobody here but us
Were chickens trying to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble, hobble, hobble with your chin
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
Youre stompin around, shakin the ground, kickin up an aweful dust
Were chickens trying to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble, hobble, hobble, its a sin
(bridge)
Tomorrow is a busy day, weve got things to do, weve got eggs to lay
We got ground to dig and worms to scratch
Takes a lot of sittin gettin chicks to hatch
There aint nobody here but us chickens, there aint nobody here at all
So quiet yourself, stop that fuss, aint nobody here but us
Kindly point that gun the other way
And hobble, hobble, hobble off and hit the hay
(repeat bridge)
Its easy pickin, aint nobody here but us chickens
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mutuality In Kindness...
the chickens
so many of them
make a music for him
who sleeps
on the haystack
he gathers the grains
to feed them
early morning
to the chickens
they found a master
at last
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Love Never Dies...
I never knew how long a day could be
It was winter and the sun was shining
Beyond the shadows I could see
It was winter and the wind was blowing
Love never dies
I know that true love never dies
The season end
And time moves on
But true love never dies
I look at picture I took of you
Now its winter and the colors fading
I just sit here while the wind blows through me
No matter how hard I try
Cant stop this feeling
Love never dies
I know that true love never dies
A day comes to end
And time moves on
But true love never dies
True love never dies
Never dies
Now I dont want to be wanting you
Its been three years and my hearts still crying
Love never dies
I know that true love never dies
A day comes to end
And time moves on
But true love never dies !
True love never dies !
Love never dies
Love never dies
Love never dies...
song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And If An Old Man Dies
AND IF AN OLD MAN DIES
(Yet another reflection on Koheleth)
And if an old man dies
And leaves behind him nothing-
And if an old man dies and leaves behind
Much family and wealth
And friends who remember him-
And if an old man dies
And leaves behind him
A reverenced work
Esteemed through many generations-
And if an old man dies
With a name mankind wishes to take with it to its own grave-
And if an old man dies
And nothing survives of humanity
And all his works and wishes
Bound up with the being of others
Who earthbound will die with the Earth
Or transformed into other kinds of being elsewhere
Lose eventually their essential humanity-
And if an old man dies
As all die
And if we stand forever alone in a universe unknown,
Then what else is there but praying to God
And hoping
That somehow beyond it all in some way we cannot now understand
An old man‘s death will be more or less
Than what we can think or know it to be now-
And if an old man dies,
And somehow never dies
And if God saves us all
And if we are surprised
poem by Shalom Freedman
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True Love Never Dies
True love never dies, true love never dies, true love never dies, true love
Never dies, true love never dies, true love never dies, true love never dies
We look like shadows in the streetlight, only me and u a secret rendevouz after
Midnight, they tried to keep us from each other, they crucify our love, say
Were not good enough to be lovers, I want to hold u in the morning, I want to
Wake up by your side, no reason to hide what were feelin, (give me your
Feelin!), I want to tell the world about it, tell them all the truth, get up on
The rooftops and shout it, true love never dies, true love never dies,true love
Never dies (repeat to fade)
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is Natural Is Best
i built a chicken house
but the chickens still prefer
to roost
on the branches of the
kamuning tree
last night it rained so hard
the chickens are silent
all wet they
peck on grains scattered
on muddy ground
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Mourners
Weeping for ones who in darkness lie,
the ones who in distress have sold their helpless souls;
for ones who have been born only to die...
perhaps for ones they never knew at all.
At times in graveyard they bury their thoughts
as though in there the sentiments hide some sacred notes.
At times they and corpses alike must maintain
the silence of the grave...
I wonder what played beneath their heads
that made them scream a hollow cry
or that if ever in their solemn lips
float the shadows of a lie.
No one has been so desperate to cry as they...
finding reasons to fill their eyes with false tears
or making them real as they recall
the pain of all the years.
They mourn for others and sometimes for themselves;
they mourn perhaps for unwanted fears...
condemning, regretting, yet waiting
for the price after the tears.
I thought that life was different for those
who in silence mourn.
But then life's all the same-
for everything that dies has once been born.
Life is never different for them
who mourn in silence,
for everything that started must come to an end.
Just then, life's all the same-
I watched them from a distance,
pretending as they play the game.
Some think of them as crazy,
for some, ordinary fools.
They, are called THE MOURNERS
and I am one of them.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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People who count their chickens before they are hatched, act very wisely, because chickens run about so absurdly that it is impossible to count them accurately.
Oscar Wilde in Letter from Paris (May 1900)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Mourn At My Funeral
Never mourn at my funeral
Because i'm not dead but sleeping
And relaxing on Abraham's bossom
Never mourn at my funeral
You that come in view to mourning
But within you, you're here to mock
Because my poetry has once expose your secret-deeds
Throw my body where you please
Or let it be dismembered
Never mourn at my funeral
You the insect that bites my daffodils
And you who want my fish to swim on a dry earth
Throw me on a stormy sea
Where Jonah fell
But its a glorious shame
I can never sight the river bank of Joppa
Never mourn at my funeral
You that come in my maker's name
Just to bless my end
Go thy way and search for lust souls
Wear them a garment pure as snow
Before they lie low with me
And journey hell eternal
Never mourn at my funeral
But mourn for we're debtors of death
poem by Adesitimi Taiwo
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Decapitated Chickens
The decapitated chickens have died.
Their feathers are plucked, their skin has been fried
In the fatty animal oils too much,
In the boiling batter scalding to touch,
In the savory glazes now applied.
Their souls are preserved in formaldehyde,
Disinfected in a jar alongside
Forgotten flavors, seasonings and such.
The decapitated chickens have died.
They're prepared for gnashing teeth, to collide
With the grinding chew, the tongue's licking glide
And sour saliva's slippery clutch,
The contraction of the muscular crutch
To lacerate swiftly, to chop and divide.
The decapitated chickens have died.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Social Chickens
i wonder why the
white and red chickens
escape from their
house
tonight they roost upon
the branch of an old
tree
so high that they can
see
above our fence
the road
the red and white chickens
too of my other
neighbor's yard
roosting on the other tree
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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