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Sea Of Land
My animals are swept from the sea and land,
They inhabit the outer realms when awake
But die when asleep, the peace is so immense for them.
My friendly parrot is upon my skull,
It needs my companionship like the rain and snow.
The sun and stars visit it in its sleep,
Yet it succumbs to me every day in my speech.
The animals also need me as they need my parrot,
The birds are flowing in the air, and my parrot dies.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A person's cleverness is not shown by how many words he utters at once but how he utters them.
I think a cute movie idea would be about a parrot who is raised by eagles. It would be cute because the parrot can't seem to act like an eagle. After a while, though, to keep the movie from getting boring, maybe put in some pornography. Later, we see the happy parrot flying along, acting like an eagle. He see two parrots below and starts to attack, but it's his parents. Then, some more pornography.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Show and tell day
It was the day for show and tell
I took my pet parrot along to class
Everything went excessively well
Until it unexpectedly turned wild
It swept off the teacher’s secret wig
With a strong swoop from its perch
Everyone’s eyes turned really big
At the confused parrot’s sudden lurch
The stunned class went berserk
The parrot screeched in absolute fright
Panic seized Tommy, the anxious nerd
With lightning speed he took flight
Grabbing the teacher’s favourite jug
I filled it up with tidbits for my pet
Racing to the petrified bird over a rug
It responded to the treat as fast as a jet
My subdued parrot did not feel bad
Although it seemed a nervous wreck
The embarrassed teacher was fuming mad
Despite getting his precious wig back
Wisdom Parrot
A call of 'key, key'
In the skies above the house
A kind of squeak
'Key, key' of parrots
Delivering a routine green evening
Signalling that my heart be open
To see one mounted by Kamadeva
Another one Andal holding in Her hand
Some more each with
Multi-faceted consort of Shiva
Another one, a guise, sage Arunagiri
Questing for Parijatha
And ofcourse parrot-faced Sukhabrahmam
Importantly preaching Bhagavatham...
Parrot parroting the Truth
Mortals' inner truth of wisdom-quest
Through love and desire
There's an enlightened plumage green and divine
Red-beaked from the 'Bakula'tree
Gazing at me 'key'key'ing
My heart blooms a smile
A parrot to parrot to me
The quest on wisdom
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cage Parrot
Parrot in the cage -
kept aside in the platform,
fortune teller by the side -
laments, 'O' God,
the peanuts exhausted,
the owner is disgusted,
my working hour is not yet over'
Yours lovingly,
CAGE PARROT.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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The Parrot
The Parrot.
The café in our village has shut. The couple who ran it left
when their parrot died. They had kept the place open for it,
since it was a genial bird. The parrot called everyone who
entered idiots; people laughed no one took offence, or so
we all thought. But someone must have taken umbrage, it
was shot through the window when the café was empty.
Feather everywhere the village was shocked, who could do
such a shameful deed? The culprit, was a farmer, who had
drunk his coffee at the café for twenty odd years, and had
enough of being called an idiot. The moral of this sad tale,
if there is any: if you call a man an idiot long enough he will
end up being one.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Nicked My Heart, You Thief!
A stocking mask- worn culprit,
came on a bike from behind,
snatched my chain and sped away.
I worried much for my unkind fate
and sat sleepless through the night.
To my surprise, I found it placed
on the porch of my house in the morn.
“O my parrot, tell me! Who is that
naughty one playing mischief?
It repeated: ”‘That one! That one! ”
A month later, I was shocked to find out,
my scooter missing, on coming out of a bank.
I lodged a complaint at the nick, though,
I had no hope of getting my vehicle back.
Good Heavens! I found it back,
on the porch in the morning.
“ O my parrot, tell me that someone,
who robs my things and brings them back,
to give me sweetful shocks! ”.
My lovely parrot repeated, “That one! That one! ”
On a fine evening, I enjoyed the music,
played by some guys of my class.
There was looting spree of the hearts
by a singer of old, melting melodies!
I suffered being sleepless, forgetful
and my parents saw me, ’absent-minded’.
“ O my parrot! You know someone, the thief,
Is hiding in my hearty haven”.
My parrot said twice: “ Thief! Thief! ”
In the early morning, a flash of thought,
rushed me to the porch to find that singer,
standing there with a bouquet!
“ You, the thief! ”, I smiled. My cheerful parrot,
Perching on his shoulder, repeated: ” Thief! Thief! ”.
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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A stray Parrot recites the Greek Alphabet
'Alpha, Beta...........&..................sigma...! '
Early in the morning I heard these strange words.
And I saw a Parrot rests on my next door neighbor's olive tree.
'Kali Mera Mastura! , Sorry that means good morning.' Parrot whispered.
'Where are you coming from? ' I asked.
Straight away flew from Greece the country introduced Civilization first.'
I said; 'I like Greece and Nikos.Kazantsakis and his book Zorba the Greek.'
'Oh! Master if you know Nikos.Kazantsakis then you know all about Greece.'
The Parrot imitates the Zorba's dance and I lived in Greece for a while.
How strange the autumnal dreams?
To my poet friend Duncan
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Name of God
He who utters the Name of God while walking
gets the merit of a sacrifice at every step
His body becomes a place of pilgrimage.
He who repeats God’s Name while working
always finds perfect peace.
He who utters the Name of God while eating
gets the merit of a fast
even though he has taken his meals.
Even if one were to give in charity
the whole world encircled by the seas
it would not equal the merit of repeating the Name,
By the power of the Name
one will know what cannot be known,
One will see what cannot be seen,
One will speak what cannot be spoken,
One will meet what cannot be met.
Tuka says.
Incalculable is the gain that comes
From repeating the Name of God.
poem by Sant Tukaram
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The Parrot And The Ferrett
Jolly Polly parrot said to the fast, fidgety ferret,
“You want some of my food before I eat all this carrot? ”
Well the fast, fidgety ferret as usual was in a real hurry
And didn’t have time to eat since he only had time to scurry.
So he said, “Thanks, but no thanks. I must be on my way.
It seems like there’s never enough hours for me in a day.”
Then jolly Polly parrot frowned at fidgety and said,
“Unless you change your ways, my friend, you’ll soon be dead.
Fast fidgety ferret, you must eat well to keep your body sound
Or you’re going to get sick and become part of the ground.”
That was indeed a scary thought for fast, fidgety ferret
So he asked jolly Polly for some ideas that might have merit.
“I think that three healthy meals and some regular rest and play”
Said Polly to fidgety, “Now that will give you a better day.”
Fast fidgety thought and then smiled at his friend Polly parrot,
And happily said, “I’ll do it. Now my new name is just Ferret.”
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Snail and the Quail
The quick, quivering quail laughed at the slow moving snail
And said, “Don’t ever enter a race or you’ll be last on the trail.”
Well, that snail always saw himself as moving kind of slow,
Though he was sure he knew where a straight line would go.
He thought, “Quail is faster, running back and forth, then forth and back.
If he does that in a race, quick quivering quail might just run off track.”
So the slow moving snail smiled and challenged quick, quivering quail
To a race for the candy store on the other side of hill and dale.
Quick, quivering quail laughed so hard he could hardly talk.
He joked, “Slow snail, you have no chance if you run and I only walk.”
Slow moving snail responded, “Tomorrow you’ll have a chance to shine.
Race time is noon and where ants cross the road is the starting line.”
Quick, quivering quail, still laughing, said “I’ll give you a big head start.”
Slow moving snail answered, “No thanks. Just race fast. I’ll race smart.”
Off went quick, quivering quail with buddies to have fun and stay up late.
Slow moving snail worked on a plan to move faster and go straight.
The day passed quickly for snail and quail as each went his separate way.
Night was short and soon a bright new sun hailed the start of race day.
Quick, quivering quail was tired after staying out late with his best friend.
Slow moving snail slept well and had his plan for how the race would end.
Snails and quails crowded ‘round as queen ant started to whine,
“Loosen up your shell and feathers; then step to the starting line.
On your mark, get ready, get set, now off you two go.”
Quick quivering quail rushed down the track… sir snail started slow.
It wasn’t long before quick quail had quivered across two dales, and then
Thought he’d just catch 40 winks before trying that much track again.
He thought, “I could walk in my sleep and still win this race.
That slow moving snail, carrying his shell along. What a big disgrace! ”
So off he went into Dreamland, seeing candy stores over the next dale.
Or was it two more hills that were the end of this easy trail?
Meanwhile slow moving snail studied his map as he moved along.
He smiled at flowers and friends on the hill; then broke into song,
“I’ve worked hard for this race and thank each and every fan.
I’m confident that I’ll win, but if not, I can always try again.
With your cheers and my hard work, “slow” won’t mean “lose”.
Victory depends not on just our skills, but how much of them we use.”
As slow snail topped the hill, it rained, but not on a single snail fan.
They had umbrellas, since slow snail had checked with the weatherman.
His name now was “quick snail” as he slid down the hills of water and mud.
Rain woke quick quivering quail as a big dropp hit his head with a thud.
Quail ran faster as he thought he saw the finish line with each advance…
But shrieked, “Oh no, I can’t believe it. This line is made up of ants! ”
Snail’s slide downhill helped him move over the dale as never before.
Soon there it was within sight and smell…that winning candy store.
Then snail’s moves were much slower and he could hear a noise behind.
Sure, it was quick quail, so snail reached for all the strength he could find.
Before he knew it, slow moving snail was in front of the candy store.
So proud, he yelled, “I Love You All! ” as he listened to the crowd roar.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The 'Poem A Day' Project - Day 80
I sometimes wonder if animals have a better life
Do they live more happily without the stress or strife
They don’t have to wait for calls, don’t have to wait in line
And there’s no fashion issues if you’re naked all the time
They don’t worry about finances, don’t get stuck in jams
You don’t get loans or credit cards offered to the lambs
And if you are an animal that gets to be a pet
You’re fed and watered and kept warm, you never have to fret
You don’t have to be so serious, your main object is play
You can meet your mates in the park and run around all day
If an animal acts a ‘human’ way then it is seen as cute
But if you act like an animal, others will persecute
If a parrot talks like a man it’s regarded as OK
But if a man talks like a parrot people slowly walk away
poem by Flying Lemming
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The Mimic Harlequin
'I'll make believe, and fancy something strange:
I will suppose I have the power to change
And make all things unlike to what they were,
To jump through windows and fly through the air,
And quite confound all places and all times,
Like harlequins we see in pantomimes.
These thread-papers my wooden sword must be,
Nothing more like one I at present see.
And now all round this drawing-room I'll range,
And every thing I look at I will change.
Here's Mopsa, our old cat, shall be a bird;
To a Poll parrot she is now transferred.
Here's mamma's work-bag, now I will engage
To whisk this little bag into a cage;
And now, my pretty parrot, get you in it,
Another change I'll show you in a minute.'
'O fie, you naughty child, what have you done?
There never was so mischievous a son.
You've put the cat among my work, and torn
A fine laced cap that I but once have worn.'
poem by Charles Lamb
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Parrot In Paradise
Parrot in the cyclone eye
spread his sodden wings to dry.
Wall of wind approaching sly
snapped him up and flung him high.
Swept aloft a hundred mile,
dropped on black volcanic isle,
Parrot viewed the ashy pile;
not the jolliest exile.
Parrot flew around the peak,
finding there a pleasing scene.
Brought a smile to his beak,
a little paradise of green.
After roaming full extent
sadly, it seemed evident,
on this fertile lava vent
he alone was resident.
Long he scanned surrounding seas
for a sign to still unease.
Tossed ashore, one day on breeze;
a mat of storm-whipped splintered trees.
Lifeless, though it first appeared,
something moved and Parrot neared.
In Chameleon's eyes he peered,
'How d'you do'? he squawked and cheered.
'What's your name? Please come ashore!
I won't bore, I've tales galore.
I can tell we've great rapport.
Did I mention, I don't snore'?
Cautiously, Chameleon
left the safety of the raft.
Black sand beach, it stepped upon.
Parrot danced around, quite daft.
'Bu Parleur's my name, I'm fine;
means I like to drink and talk.
Let's ferment some island wine,
we'll walk the talk and squawk the walk'.
Parrot boasted, 'I'm a Chick……'
'Yes', Chameleon replied.
'What? No! Ha! Well done, you're quick;
Chick Magnet'! Parrot glibly lied.
Reaching welcome leafy shade,
shy Chameleon's fears allayed,
back and forth it gently swayed,
swiveled turret eyes; surveyed.
'Can I call you Cham for short?
Do you think I'm beady-eyed?
Shall we dance, play cards or sport'?
'Yes', Chameleon replied.
'Do you like my feathered suit?
Would you like some seeds or fruit'?
(Cham caught fly, with aim astute)
'Wow', said Parrot, 'My, you're cute'.
'Like the way you aim and flick,
love those slinky moves, real slick,
I've got tricks and you've got shtick.
What shall we do now? You pick'
'See my feet, you'll be enthralled,
two toes forward, two toes back.
ZygoDACtylous that's called.
I dig your color-changing knack'.
Parrot stared at Cham's small feet;
cried 'I knew it! ain't life swell.
We are so alike, that's neat.
You're zygodactylous as well'!
And so, the pair became firm friends,
bonded by their common ends.
Castaways the island tends,
castaways the island mends.
Soft the moonlit night descends,
loud, the parrot's song ascends.
Zygodactylous me….
Zygodactylous you...
Zygodactylous we….
Zygodactylous two…
Zygodactylous zygodactylous zygodactylous me…
poem by Diane Hine
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After the rain
After the rain
the air is full of swallows
swishing up and down
hanging in it
to catch flying white ants
and I see them ascending
and descending twittering.
Some sit as if strung together
right next to each other
on the silver lamp post
and hordes are invited
to the feast of the swallows.
Later when I sit in my study
there is a bird
that that lands on my windowsill
that looks like a parrot to me
and seeing itself in the window
pecks constantly against it
or maybe it’s something else
that I take as a parrot
and its head is scarlet red
up to its neck,
its eyes wide from each other
and its beak is bended
and below the red
its pitch black
and the rest of its body is light green
and I know that it’s too late
for the festival of the other birds
but maybe it would rather have
An apple or two
and every day
I now wait on Polla
or whatever its name is
to come back
to awake me with its knocking
and maybe I will catch him
but it’s rather much better
to be without a cage
and never again to be cooped in.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Set free
Set free
I was bonded laborer
Always sad and never happier
Kept in chains and not allowed to move
I prayed almighty to set me free and remove
It is like dark dungeon
Secluded place like pavilion
You are confined alone
To spend the life in isolation
No one must be kept in bondage
To be set free is divine privilege
Slavery had been in practice for ages
Same condition even not liked by birds in cage
I saw green parrot in captivity
It forced me to remember days being suffered under barbarity
I opened the gate for parrot to flee
Bird was in confinement and not allowed to fly as free
I could witness energy in his wings
Special sound was originated when he tried to sing
As if lions roared in jungle but with mind sound in air
Parrot crossed over river and looked for some one to make pair
How can we chain someone against will?
Let it be birds, human beings or wild animals
All love freedom and free movement
Ever felt joy with happiness at that moment
Enjoy and feel freedom for all
Don't create hurdle or high scale wall
World is to see and enjoy
Not to suffer and make others to annoy
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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He Lived at Dingle Bank
He lived at Dingle Bank - he did; -
He lived at Dingle Bank;
And in his garden was one Quail,
Four tulips and a Tank:
And from his window he could see
The otion and the River Dee.
His house stood on a Cliff, - it did,
Its aspic it was cool;
And many thousand little boys
Resorted to his school,
Where if of progress they could boast
He gave them heaps of buttered toast.
But he grew rabid-wroth, he did,
If they neglected books,
And dragged them to adjacent Cliffs
With beastly Button Hooks,
And there with fatuous glee he threw
Them down into the ocean blue.
And in the sea they sway, they did, -
All playfully about,
And some eventually became
Sponges, or speckled trout: -
But Liverpool doth all bewail
Their Fate; - likewise his Garden Quail.
poem by Edward Lear
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The tongue of experience utters the most truth.
The minute one utters a certainty, the opposite comes to mind.
quote by May Sarton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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