The little bird that flaps its wings too much will spoil them.
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Tachycardia
In the chest is caged bat
who seeks escape
through the mouth.
He flaps his wings
& the molars shiver.
He flaps his wings
& the thyroid bulges
like a snake
that has swallowed
a mouse.
He flaps his wings
uttering shrill cries
heard only by the ears
of the teeth.
He wants to soar
into the great world.
He is blind
as a bat.
You must convince him
that the chest
is a cradle
& a room
with a view.
Past the tonsils
lies terror.
Past the teeth
lies death.
Past the lips
lie lies,
lies, lies.
poem by Erica Jong
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The bird, which flaps its wings too much, will drop its feathers.
If You Only Hear The Rhythm Of This Poem
each syllable is
a heartbeat
it is something jumping
not like a frog
but more of a flea
it is silent
it jumps further trying
to reach the tip
of my nose
each word is a sigh
like the flaps of a bird flying away from me
this is the poem that i write for you
and if it is true that you live in the dark
i guess
you shall hear it well
you shall see it well
for the wings of the bird are white
and the color of the sigh is the color of the lights
breathed by the stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Bird In Your Cage
we have this bird
we both own it and love it and care for it
our bird
and you have this cage
that you only own
golden, new and strong and as you say it
so reliable
that when our bird is in that cage
it will be safe
and cannot escape
we feed this bird together
and give it water and birdseeds
and a place of twigs and swing
where the bird can play
and perch upon
like it is on a tree
days and years
we keep this bird in your cage
and we see it is dying
and wanting to be free
yet you say, this sickness is just temporary
time heals what has wounded it
and shall forget the power of its wings
days and more years
we keep this bird in your cage
and i have not listened at all
to the sad song of that bird
her waning chirps
her weakened wings
her way of losing hold to the dreams of its wings
today we see this bird is dead
but you have no sadness at all
you say, you will buy another bird
again to be kept in your cage
i could have told you
i am the bird in your cage and i too have forgotten the power of
my wings
i could have told you, i have long died
and have forgotten what freedom is, what love is, what i am
in the first place. How can i ever tell you?
you are my cage.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Won't Fly
I'm just a little bird
but I've got wings
like the wings
of an eagle.
I can fly high
higher than the clouds
but I won't fly
because I want to walk with you
under the sun
or even under the rain.
I'm just a little bird
but I've got wings
like the wings
of an eagle.
I can fly high
but, I won't fly
and will never spread my wings
as long as I have
...your love.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Bird's Wish
The bird asks me
What I’d do
If I am a bird.
I tell him
High and high I’d soar
So high that I’d see the earth no more
I’d be a bird on the tree
I’d be a bird that’s free!
What you’d do bird
If you’re a man?
To be fair
It’d be my only prayer to God
Don’t be so hard
Make me once again a bird!
Saying this the bird sings
And spreads its wings to a sky
I can never fly!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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226
what the white owl does besides flapping its wings
The white owl flaps its wings
Deep in the night
Hovers on the trees
I think the leaves
I hear the sparrows chirping
In the morning
Some dead feathers are falling
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Octavio 3
'We pursue modernity
in her incessant metamorphoses
yet we never manage to trap her.
She always escapes:
each encounter ends in flight.
We embrace her and
she disappears
immediately:
it was just a little air.
It is the instant,
that bird that is everywhere
and nowhere.
We want to trap it alive
but it flaps its wings
and vanishes
in the form of a handful
of syllables.
We are left empty-handed.
Then the doors of perception open slightly
and the other time appears,
the real one we were searching for
without knowing it:
the present,
the presence.'
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hummingbird
Tiny hummingbird sips each bloom;
So busy… no moment to spare.
The force of each hurried zoom
Brings more nectar to its lair.
Miraculous flaps by miniscule wings
Hold it motionless in the air
As it suckles nature's sweet things
Then moves on in a dance so rare.
This magic bird enlivens flowers
As it dines it demands more than a stare.
Take time out to study its powers.
Do something worthwhile if you dare.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Tame Bird Was In A Cage
THE tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, 'O my love, let us fly to the wood.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Come hither, let us both live in the cage.'
Says the free bird, 'Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?'
'Alas,' cries the caged bird, 'I should not know where to sit perched in the sky.'
The free bird cries, 'My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands.'
The cage bird sings, 'Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned.'
The forest bird cries, 'No, ah no! songs can never be taught.'
The cage bird says, 'Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands.'
There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, 'Come closer, my love!'
The free bird cries, 'It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage.'
The cage bird whispers, 'Alas, my wings are powerless and dead.'
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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VI
The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, "O my love, let us fly to wood."
The cage bird whispers, "Come hither, let us both live in the
cage."
Says the free bird, "Among bars, where is there room to spread
one's wings?"
"Alas," cries the cage bird, "I should not know where to sit
perched in the sky."
The free bird cries, "My darling, sing the songs of the
woodlands."
The cage bird says, "Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of
the learned."
The forest bird cries, "No, ah no! songs can never be taught."
The cage bird says, "Alas for me, I know not the songs of the
woodlands."
Their love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing
to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to
know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, "Come closer, my
love!"
The free bird cries, "It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of
the cage."
The cage bird whispers, "Alas, my wings are powerless and dead."
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from The Gardener (1913)
Submitted by Silvia Velea
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Flightless Bird
My world is caged in,
I can not fly away,
I can not soar in the clouds,
With the wind and the angels.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
I sit here day in and day out,
I watch so many people coming in and going out,
They stay here so happy so proud,
And they leave again without any care in the world.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
I remember each face,
I remember them all saying hi waiting for a reply of hello,
They don’t understand how it feels,
They don’t understand what it’s like.
To be a flightless bird with clipped wings.
Wings tucked and head held high I sit here,
I wear a smile on my face and I keep myself beautiful and happy,
But inside all I can see are the bars that surround me,
I can’t get past them I can only sit.
I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
My world is a room full of people myself the center of attention,
Although I should not complain for this is my life,
And I make them smile I make the children laugh and look in my eyes,
And sometimes they look into my eyes and see my world through my eyes.
They know I am a flightless bird with clipped wings.
They’ll stand and watch me as I walk around in my cage,
They’ll be there with me and try to understand.
Then they’ll have to leave and they’ll look over their shoulders.,
And they look into my eyes one last time,
Before they fly away into the world to bring back stories for the flightless bird with clipped wings,
They are my connection to the world,
They show me what they see through their eyes,
They show me wonders and beauties of a world I’ve never seen,
They are my window to the outside,
In their mind I can be a flightless bird in a world of wonder and of flight.
I am only a small bird in a cage that sits in a hotel,
Sits and watches as the world around me fly’s by,
I wait for the occasional stranger who looks into my eyes with knowing,
Maybe a person who is like me like a flightless bird in a cage,
They are my wings, the wings of a flightless bird who’s wings are clipped.
I sit in my own world and watch as it all moves by,
Day after day I watch and I say what is expected of me,
I sit in my world and I go on my own steady journey,
A journey in which I am a silent observer,
A flightless bird with clipped wings in a world of ever changing skies.
By: Bethany Maxwell
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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What Now Little Bird?
what now little bird?
you look around you
the nest is empty
and mother bird is far away
and siblings
have taken the first jump
to the pond
to learn to float
and then
fly
you think that mother-bird
comes back
to feed you with another worm?
no, little bird
no one is coming back for you
you do not even
know if you have a father-bird
to save you
no, little bird
do not wait
do not waste your time
the sun shines
and it is time
for you to go too
fly now
little bird
find the real meaning of your wings....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The White Bird In My Hand
I LOST A bird,
it is a bird with white wings,
i shape those wings,
and give it strength,
in the wink of an eye
it flies away,
it never sings for me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The wagtail hops and flaps its wings, but the male dove feeds and coos.
Strange Bird
Strange bird
By: jimmy buffett, jay oliver
1989
Half fast and seldom seen
He dont blip the radar screen
On the deck below the dune
Under the commanders moon
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
God only knows where the strange bird goes when hes flying
Everybodys trying to find him
But they dont know where to start
The ornithologist lady says that he has wings on his heart
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
Frequent flyer, seldom seen
High above the caribbean
In my day Ive met a few but hes the strangest bird thats true
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
But hes in love with the lady of the waters
And she lives somewhere up around cheauxvan
Hes gonna circle high above her runway of love
Until she gives him her permission to land
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
Watch out girl, hes a strange bird
Strange bird flying low
cross the gulf of mexico
Strange bird not like all the rest
Watch out girl hes a strange bird
Shoot you down, hes a strange bird
Its a bird, its a plane, its a strange bird
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bird-Magic
Where no birds breathe, bird-magic breathes
Bird-beauty, bird-spirit, bird-splendour,
And brings where no bird wings,
Wing-beats that woo me to wonder.
What do I want when a woman can warm
Bird-magic from her bosom, her womanly arms?
Her lips that are petals, her thighs that are trees,
Boughful with blossoms of softness and ease?
What is the liquid that lingers with love
In her voice? Is the music that hangs in her eyes?
The dewdrop.that dangles from finger-tip touch?
The mellifluous magic that moves me so much?
This is no bird-magic:
This is woman, who with a sweep of her hair
Sends birds bursting to wings in the air.
This is woman, whose frown
Droops dark feathers down.
This is woman; her smile, her kiss, her holding in arms,
Hold more bliss for me than bird-charms.
poem by Tan Pratonix
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The Shortest Moment That The Butterfly Tries To Speak
how many flutters of its wings is its lifetime?
not a hundred, this butterfly with blue shaking lines on its wings
some dots of black on the lower tip
some flaps of dust as you hold it.
we love to see it freely hovering from one flower to another
blending with its colors, it is not trying to hide anything
beautiful, it is showing itself, beautiful butterfly,
how gentle, soft to our hearts as we watch it
there is no sound of its wings and its graceful feeding on the nectars
then it rests on a leaf. we leave it there.
the wind last night was strong.
we see the leaf where it stayed on the pebbled ground.
there are no wings. there is no trace where the blue butterfly is.
how many flutters did that butterfly make?
such a brief moment, yet so beautiful
that is the message of the life of its lost wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Lord Krishna in a butterfly
krishna, krishna
the hindu gods
each time we meet
he dances in a butterfly
he dances in a butterfly
into the commuter train
as i went for an interview
in the house
when i moved in
krishna a butterfly
so shapely
so stylish
krishna, krishna, krishna
the world dances with it
in a million ways
and shades
dance, dance, dance
flaps, flaps, flaps
up down, down up,
so quietly it sits
in meditation at times too
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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