The robin and the wren are God's cock and hen; the martin and the swallow are God's mate and marrow.
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Prequel..cock Robin.
PREQUEL..COCK ROBIN.
THE DAWN MIST HANGS LOW THROUGHOUT THE VALLEY
CREATING THE SHROUD WHICH ALLOWS TIMID CREATURES TO VENTURE OUT
IN THE DISTANCE, THE WOOP OF A DOVE, RAT-TAT-TAT OF WOODPECKER RINGS OUT
SOON ALL LIFE TAKES THEIR PLACE, MAN AND ALL.
WOODCUTTER SAM COPPICES IN A SUSTAINABLE WAY
AS SOON AS HE IS GONE THE ANTS AND WOODLICE ARRIVE TO CART THE CHIPS AWAY
LIFE CAN BE SWEET HERE, HARMONY ENDURES
THE SQUIRREL AND THE JAY ARE ONE..THESE ARE MINE..THOSE ARE YOURS
BUT THERE'S SOMETHING MISSING, ROUTINE HAS FINALLY RELEASED THEIR MINDS
WHERE IS COCK ROBIN'S CHIRPING OF THE TWITTERING KIND?
HE MUST BE IN THE SOUTH OF THE VALLEY, SAY'S JOHN CROW
OH NO, THIS ISN'T THE DAY HE'D GO
SOON THE WORD HAD GONE OUT, COCK ROBIN HAS NOT BEEN SEEN
HE'LL RETURN BEFORE LONG AND TELL US WHERE HE'S BEEN
THE HOURS WEAR ON, THE RUMOURS ABOUND, ALL ARE LISTENING FOR THAT CHIPPY-CHIRPY SOUND
IN THE FOLLOWING DAYS WITH NO MORNING ACLAIM FROM COCK ROBIN
THE TEARS SHED ARE HIDDEN IN THE MISTY WETNESS OF THE MORNING.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
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Fifty Faggots
There they stand, on their ends, the fifty fag gots
That once were underwood of hazel and ash
In Jenny Pink's copse. Now, by the hedge
Close packed, they make a thicket fancy alone
Can creep through with the mouse and wren. Next spring
A blackbird or robin will nest there,
Accustomed to them, thinking they will remain
Whatever is for ever to a bird:
This Spring it is too late; the swift has come.
'Twas a hot day for carrying them up:
Better they will never warm me, though they must
Light several Winters' fires. Before they are done
The war will have ended, many other things
Have ended, maybe, that I can no more
Foresee or more control than robin and wren.
poem by Edward Thomas
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Who Am I?
(1950) leonard bernstein
Who am i
Who am i
Was it all planned in advance
Or was I just born by chance in july
Who on earth am i
My friends only think of fun
Theyre such a curious a lot
Must I be the only one
Who thinks these mysterious thoughts
Some day Ill die
Will I ever live again
As a mountain lion
Or a rooster, a hen
Or a robin, or a wren, or a fly
Oh, who am i
Do you believe in reincarnation
Do you believe in reincarnation
Were you ever here before
Have you ever had dreams
That you knew were true
Some time before in your life
Have you ever had that experience
So you must question
All the truths that you know
All the love and the life
That you know and say
Who am i
Will I ever live again
As a mountain lion
Or a rooster, a hen
Or a robin, or a wren, or a fly
If Im one of those lives
That have been reincarnated again
And again, and again
Oh, who am i
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Swallow
I swallow pride,
I swallow guilt,
I swallow everything he spilt.
I wipe away the remnants of,
What is left of both our love.
I swallow all that is not seen,
I swallow every broken dream,
I swallow when I want to scream,
This by itself is magic.
I swallow if just for his likes,
I swallow and it’s tragic.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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ThE pAiN..........
I'll swallow the pain of being misunderstood.
I'll swallow the pain of being no good.
I'll just swallow the pain of not fitting in.
I'll just swallow the pain of not deserving.
I'll swallow the pain of hiding myself.
I'll swallow the pain of having no help.
I'll just swallow the pain of being constantly hurt.
I'll just swallow the pain of being thought as a nerd.
I'll swallow the pain of breaking my heart.
And in all of my dreams, with sorrow I'll part........
poem by Urmila Reghunath
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The Wren’s Nest
I TOOK the wren's nest;--
Heaven forgive me!
Its merry architects so small
Had scarcely finished their wee hall,
That, empty still, and neat and fair,
Hung idly in the summer air.
The mossy walls, the dainty door,
Where Love should enter and explore,
And Love sit carolling outside,
And Love within chirp multiplied;--
I took the wren's nest;--
Heaven forgive me!
How many hours of happy pains
Through early frosts and April rains,
How many songs at eve and morn
O'er springing grass and greening corn,
Before the pretty house was made!
One little minute, only one,
And she'll fly back, and find it--gone!
I took the wren's nest:
Bird, forgive me!
Thou and thy mate, sans let, sans fear,
Ye have before you all the year,
And every wood holds nooks for you,
In which to sing and build and woo;
One piteous cry of birdish pain--
And ye'll begin your life again,
And quite forget the lost, lost home
In many a busy home to come.--
But I?--Your wee house keep I must
Until it crumble into dust.
I took the wren's nest:
God forgive me!
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Wren
World
Do not give me anything.
I would lose it.
Or abuse it
Or something.
Don't get too close to me.
When only the wren can sing my pain
So sweetly.
Don't try to break my chain.
Love left me bound and gagged
In the rain.
All passion drying
In the vein.
Only the wren
Can set me free.
Warbling so sweetly.
Please do not kiss me.
And say you care.
My emotional repair
Is beyond any sweet embrace.
Touch the scars upon my face
From burning tears.
Only the wren
Can quell my fears.
For just one minute
In early morning,
I am healed.
When that unwritten love song
Is revealed.
Please,
Do not ask me
Why or where or when.
Just let me fly away
With jenny wren.
poem by Kevin East
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A Dedication
Because I went the lone ways
Among the tall trees,
Because I loved the blue days,
The bird melodies,
Deemed you I did our love wrong
In loving these too?
Ah, every forest love song
Was sung, love, for you.
The green slope, the sky above,
The wild forest lore-
All these were but the mind's love:
The deep heart has more.
And were you rival of the wren?
Resentful of the dawn?
Ah, what would these avail, then,
If you, dear, were gone?
The wild joy that things possess
Would seem out of place,
And all beauty meaningless
For want of one face;
The wren's lilt for lack of you
Would wring the heart's core,
And stars upon the night's blue
Would move me no more.
poem by James Martin Devaney
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She Won't Swallow It
Warning-Sexual content! May not be suitable for all readers!
Parody of the classic song from the film of the same name The Girl Can't Help It
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She walks by, got mine standing at attention
Tight inside of my jeans
Still...
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She winks her eye, flirts with me so outragous and naughty
Gets me so damn horny
Only to burn me like toast
Cos no matter how often I ask
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She' s got me turned on the most
Yet even if I got down tonight on my knees
I think I know still what her answer would be
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
The girl won't swallow it
Won't get down on her knees
Not even once just to see if she would like it
Oh yeah
Sad but true
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
And even when I beg her pretty please
A horny boyfriend down on his knees
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
Still I'm hopin' and prayin' someday
Her answer will be
The girl will swallow it cos she's just as horny as me
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She won't even pretend to mess around with it
In the dark or in the sun
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
If I give her some good old fashion lovin' way down there
Then should't she do the same for me?
The girl won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
Always makes me feel so damn bad just for askin'
Just like a dirty old grandpa instead of the young kinky 21 that I am
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
The girl won't swallow it
Won't get down on her knees
Not even once just to see if she would like it
Oh yeah
Sad but true
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
And even when I beg her pretty please
A horny boyfriend down on his knees
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
Still I'm hopin' and prayin' someday
Her answer will be
The girl will swallow it cos she's just as horny as me
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
She walks by, got my manhood locked up tight in a vise
As I pant and moan for that little something
That little something more that she just won't give
Still I'm hopin' and prayin' someday
Her answer will be
The girl will swallow it cos she's just as horny as me
She won't swallow it, the girl won't swallow it
2008 Ramona Thompson
poem by Ramona Thompson
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The Hen and the Wren
The lovely, laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren.
'Good morning. It's nice to see you now and then.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'Thank you Mrs. Hen.
I haven't seen you for awhile and don't remember when.'
The laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren, 'If you recall,
The last time we were together was a bit before last fall.'
The wren smiled and said, 'Oh yes I should have guessed.
It's spring again so I'm back to build another nest.'
The hen said, 'Soon we both will be sitting on our eggs.
Not long after that there'll be babies ‘neath our legs.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'I wish my eggs weren't so small.
Your eggs are so large that your babies will be tall.'
Well the lovely laying hen said, 'Your eggs are just right.
And that song you sing brings everyone delight.'
From spring to fall wherever hens and wrens reside,
There'll be nests, eggs and babies chirping far and wide.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Song at Cock-Crow
1918 -- Ille autem iterum negavit.
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord,
But followed far off to see what they would do,
Till the cock crew--till the cock crew--
After Gethsemane, till the cock crew!
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas only a maid in the palace who heard,
As he sat by the fire and warmed himself through.
Then the cock crew! Then the cock crew!
("Though also art one of them.") Then the cock crew!
The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He had neither the Throne, nor the Keys nor the Sword--
A poor silly fisherman, what could he do,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But weep for his wickedness when the cock crew?
. . . . . .
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
He was Fisher of Men, as foretold by the Word,
With the Crown on his brow and the Cross on his shoe,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
In Flanders and Picardy when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Mary the Mother in Heaven Who heard,
She grieved for the maidens and wives that they slew
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
At Tirmonde and Aerschott when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
The Babe in the Manger awakened and stirred,
And He stretched out His arms for the playmates
He knew--
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But the waters had covered them when the cock crew!
The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Earth in her agony waited his word,
But he sat by the fire and naught would he do,
Though the cock crew--though the cock crew--
Over all Christendom, though the cock crew!
The last time that Peter denied his Lord,
The Father took from him the Keys and the Sword,
And the Mother and Babe brake his Kingdom in two,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
(Because of his wickedness) when the cock crew!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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For the Airmen
THOU who guidest the swallow and wren,
Keep the paths of the flying men!
Over the mountains, over the seas
Thou hast given the bird-folk compasses.
Thou guidest them, yea, Thou leadest them home
By the trackless ways and the venturesome.
Look Thou then on these bird-men, far
More than the sparrows and swallows are.
When they fly in the wintry weather
Be their compass and chart together.
Keep them riding the wind. Uphold
Their passion of flight lest it grow cold.
Thy right hand be under the wing,
Thy left hand for their steadying.
The Wings of the birds of Heaven be nigh
Lest their wings fail them and they die.
Make Thou their flying as deft and fleet
As the flight of the linnet or the blue-tit.
Thy hand over them, shall they fear
The spears of lightning or any spear?
Thy hand under them, what shall appal?
Not the fierce foe nor the sudden fall.
Show them Thy moon at night: Thy stars
Bid stand as sentinels in their wars.
Yea, make their lone tracks pleasant as
A soft meandering path in grass.
Thou that launchest the wren, the swallow
Guard our flying loves when they follow.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The Delights of Mathematics
It seems a hundred years or more
Since I, with note-book, ink and pen,
In cap and gown, first trod the floor
Which I have often trod since then;
Yet well do I remember when
With fifty other fond fanatics,
I sought delights beyond my ken,
The deep delights of Mathematics.
I knew that two and two made four,
I felt that five times two were ten,
But, as for all profounder lore,
The robin redbreast or the wren,
The sparrow, whether cock or hen,
Knew quite as much about Quadratics,
Was less confused by x and n,
The deep delights of Mathematics.
The Asses' Bridge I passed not o'er,
I floundered in the noisome fen
Which lies behind it and before;
I wandered in the gloomy glen
Where Surds and Factors have their den.
But when I saw the pit of Statics,
I said Good-bye, Farewell, Amen!
The deep delights of Mathematics.
O Bejants! blessed, beardless men,
Who strive with Euclid in your attics,
For worlds I would not taste again
The deep delights of Mathematics.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Three Things to Remember
A Robin Redbreast in a cage,
Puts all Heaven in a rage.
A skylark wounded on the wing
Doth make a cherub cease to sing.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men.
poem by William Blake
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Summer
Winter is cold-hearted
Spring is yea and nay,
Autumn is a weather-cock
Blown every way:
Summer days for me
When every leaf is on its tree;
When Robin's not a beggar,
And Jenny Wren's a bride,
And larks hang singing, singing, singing,
Over the wheat-fields wide,
And anchored lilies ride,
And the pendulum spider
Swings from side to side,
And blue-black beetles transact business,
And gnats fly in a host,
And furry caterpillars hasten
That no time be lost,
And moths grow fat and thrive,
And ladybirds arrive.
Before green apples blush,
Before green nuts embrown,
Why, one day in the country
Is worth a month in town;
Is worth a day and a year
Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion
That days drone elsewhere.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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i8 The Kuan's Canticles
I hush the wail along my trail
Past hamlet, home and hollow,
While on I go with noiseless flow
And robin red-breasts follow.
And like a psalm, benign and calm,
I blight the brow of winter ;
I snap the chains that hold the reins
The fields of ice I splinter ;
And like the tide I run and ride,
The bated winds I swallow ;
Triumphant still past rock and rill,
And robin red-breasts follow.
A wing of light from night to night
My perfumed chariot passes,
And I can hear in meadows clear
The whispering of the grasses ;
With joyous face I onward race
Past hopeless height and hollow,
While swift and strong with simple song
My robin red-breasts follow.
The north wind bleeds the rustling reeds
The happy news is telling,
And I can hear in forests near
The juicy leaf -buds swelling ;
I onward rush without the thrush,
The red bird or the swallow,
You need n't mind, for close behind
My robin red-breasts follow.
poem by Robert Kirkland Kernighan
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Poor Man
The hen has no breasts; poor cock.
The hen has no lips; poor cock.
The hen has no hair; poor cock.
The cock can rape hen; poor man.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
The couple of chicken religious meal
On the ruwatan of my mother
Offering to me
8. Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
I left the hen one at my grandma house
and bring the cock going home
after arrive at home
that cock
I bring everywhere
aver meet the another one
keep fighting with my cock and win
sometime meet with the cockfighter
neighbour, who have gerobak repair house
where they iron for
and teakwood for
in the center field
they fight my cock and theirs
the winner is always my cock
Their face look very regretful
And they offering to bought my cock
I avoid
And tomorrow eveing, when I went home from school
I found my cock foot
He stay and asleep in my house corner
My cockfoot had injury was harpooned
I care with garlic, not yet recover
I care with peniciclin, not
a week after that cock dead
I cry for the whole day
I don’t understand adult will won theirself
they dont understand, that is not just a cock
But a cock for religious meal in the ruwatan of my mother
My grandma gift
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Peggy's The Lady Of The Hall
And will she leave the lowly clowns
For silk and satins gay,
Her woollen aprons and drab gowns
For lady's cold array?
And will she leave the wild hedge rose,
The redbreast and the wren,
And will she leave her Sunday beaus
And milk shed in the glen?
And will she leave her kind friends all
To be the Lady of the Hall?
The cowslips bowed their golden drops,
The white thorn white as sheets;
The lamb agen the old ewe stops,
The wren and robin tweets.
And Peggy took her milk pails still,
And sang her evening song,
To milk her cows on Cowslip Hill
For half the summer long.
But silk and satins rich and rare
Are doomed for Peggy still to wear.
But when the May had turned to haws,
The hedge rose swelled to hips,
Peggy was missed without a cause,
And left us in eclipse.
The shepherd in the hovel milks,
Where builds the little wren,
And Peggy's gone, all clad in silks--
Far from the happy glen,
From dog-rose, woodbine, clover, all
To be the Lady of the Hall.
poem by John Clare
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~ In Euphonic Yo-Yo ~
~ In Euphonic Yo-Yo ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
21 September 2010
Sorrows are hollow
Why mop n’ swallow
Why yell ouch ow?
Erase n’ eschew
Muffle fuddle foe woe
Low n’ lull all low
Sow n’ souse marrow.
In Euphonic Yo-Yo
Explore inner éclat El Dorado
Immix in melody mellow
Gleam n’ glow n’ wallow
In bedecked minstrel Yoo Hoo
Dance douse with Divine Billow.
Zoom n’ yep n’ uh-huh with ~
Ooh Yo!
Wreath Wow! !
Ye Jane Joe! ! !
==
Glossary with humility I’m giving what I tried to express.:
[1] Marrow ~ Most vital part of some idea..
[2] Wallow [Verb] ~ Be ecstatic with joy.
[3] Yoo Hoo ~ Gain someone's attention.
[4] Ooh [Verb] ~ Express admiration and pleasure.
[5] Yo ~. An informal address to one whose name is not known to another [Hi, Hey]
~~~
Copyright reserved by author
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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