They put the nightingale into a golden cage, yet it still craved for its home.
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One Chance
We have one chance.
One chance to get everything right.
We have one chance, one chance.
And if we're lucky we might.
My friends, my habits, my family,
they mean so much to me.
I just don't think that it's right.
I've seen so many ships sail in,
just to head back out again and go off sinking.
I'm just a box in a cage. I'm just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box in a cage.
Didn't mean to laugh, didn't know I had.
Didn't know the better part of what you said
cuz in your head you are not home.
Didn't get the joke. Didn't mean to poke another,
just to save myself
from some something something or another one.
Well walk home.
I'm just a box in a cage. I'm just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.
I'm just a box in a cage.
We have one chance,
one chance to get everything right.
My friends, my habits, my family,
they mean so much to me.
I just don't think that it's right.
I've seen so many ships sail in,
just to head back out again and go off sinking.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And With This Thirsting Craved
With a thirsting craved.
And a hunger of desire...
They believed,
In achieving.
And needed this done...
To satisfy,
What they felt inside.
With a discipline uncommon,
They met and rid themselves...
Of obstacles.
And affirmed success,
Would be theirs!
Or they would not rest.
With this thirsting craved.
And with this thirsting craved,
Everyday there were dues to pay.
And naysayers with nothing positive to say...
But would not get in the way of those who craved.
Those who stayed focused night and day, praying!
Until nothing but Sun would beam from their faces!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A caged bird`s plea
In the cage for years,
this cage my home,
a wingless bird
forgotten how to fly
You have cut my wings Oh! man
in the cage let me be,
my folks are away, know not where
do not set me free
poem by Dr Madhavi Grace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Cage in the Bird
he was out of the cage
as he was treated as a bird
and he sings
to the sky
but then he had loved the cage so well
and the hands of the master
that feed him
that every morning listens to his song
he had missed sorely so well
and so back into that cage
he flies in
for the master had left it all open
he sings again
concluding that the cage must also
be the home
for freedom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Small Nightingale
Nightingale Nightingale
I am a little bird
Nightingale Nightingale
I am a little bird
Oh! god save me!
Oh! lord save me!
I have tried to save myself but i failed to?
Nightingale Nightingale
I am a sorrowful bird
Nightingale Nightingale
I am a sorrowful bird
Oh! god forget about this;
Listen about the frog
The frog was jealous of me as i sing so well
He wants me to die
Nightingale Nightingale
I am a little bird
BUT, I am a dying bird
BUT, I am a dying bird.
Oh! god save me!
Oh! lord save me!
poem by Abhishek Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Even if the nightingale is in a gold cage, she still dreams of returning to the forest.
A bird escaping finally from its cage
Let me not speak about
This bird that finally finds a way
Out of its cage
New to its freedom
It whirls and circles the skies
A tryst with the wind
A feast with the sun
A dive to the sea
A rising up to the limitless
Space around it
Let me not speak about its
Final regret
Its wanting to be back in the cage
Again
Because for a time
It thinks again
It is really its home
Forever
The bird shall soon ask you
To open the cage
To spend its nights there
All its lifetime
Soon it will have the courage to say it
Freedom sometimes
Home it is not
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bird Raptures
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale,
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.
Make haste to mount, thou wistful moon,
Make haste to wake the nightingale:
Let silence set the world in tune
To hearken to that wordless tale
Which warbles from the nightingale.
O herald skylark, stay thy flight
One moment, for a nightingale
Floods us with sorrow and delight.
To-morrow thou shalt hoist the sail;
Leave us tonight the nightingale.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Always
How will you carry the mount of tears
in the vally of temples? Kites flowing
in sky of beings-egos-denials and
repeals.
Smiling at pain I unspeak to a keeper
of cage, under the shadow of golden
roses, walking with blue eyes of private
hymns.
I craved and dispossessed myself in the
rainy convulsions. The stupidity of
invoking rainbows. In tall grasses
the eyes were looking for the brazen
clouds.
And I am arrived today at the quirky
revealation to exist or not to
exist amids the crouching facts, trees
down shedding the arms and legs
always.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inside A Cage
he is inside a cage
and he does not really want to be inside the cage forever
the cage however is different
it is not locked and no one guards it
he is free to go out and get in anytime
this cage of his choice
he wants to get out of this cage for good
he just can't
he loves to be caged somehow
despite the protest of his reason
he goes out to free himself but only after a while
he gets inside the cage again
in fact he is more inside it and locking himself in it even
he loves what this cage can provide him
his sense of privacy his taste for an enclosure
his genes his sense of wanting to be alone
his beloved prison where he keeps his sins
it is where his ecstasies are hatched and grown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the strips of woods [În arcane de pădure]
In the strips of woods, the darkness in a scary way is clinging.
Both the crowded leaves are silent and the slender trees, so high;
Night is dumb, and sad, and dying, sheltered by the opaque sky,
But the nightingale is singing, but the nightingale is singing.
In the strips of woods, the tempest in a scary way is spinning,
Sending down a flood of water and a crimson bolt of flame;
Why is harmony a nuisance and a fury without aim,
But the nightingale is singing, but the nightingale is singing.
In the strips of woods, the terror with the quietness is mingling,
Late aurora under foliage cannot come to light the moss,
For in front of it the darkness blocks the way and lies across –
But the nightingale is singing, but the nightingale is singing.
poem by Alexandru Macedonski, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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The Gorilla and his beloved wife
This man was certainly fed up with the life and roamed like a stray dog.
One day he found in the Zoo the gorilla's cage is vacant.
Since that day he lived in the cage happily.
On a sunny Sunday he saw his wife came towards the cage.
'Oh! You resemble my so loved husband and he was disappeared a long time ago.' wife said.
She witnessed the gorilla cried and she gave him her handkerchief.
On her way back home she had a facial as she knows her husband would be at home soon.
* I heard that he says; 'We the people, in order to form a more perfect union.' Good luck to the land of opportunity! And guess who comes to the dinner with a gift of real democracy.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paper And Iron
Paper, iron, won't buy eden
Working for paper and for iron
Work for the right to keep my tie on
Working for paper and for iron
Work for the unicorn and lion
I pray the kids aren't starving
No chicken for the sunday carving
I'll stay for one more farthing
I take home my notes and coins every week
I'm told i'm worth much more
But the church says turn the other cheek
The other cheek
Paper, iron, won't buy eden.
I know the family needs me
Can't moan, the factory feeds me
Won't bite the hand that bleeds me
I take home my notes and coins every week
I'll inherit the earth i'm told
But the church says to remain this meek
Remain this meek
I'm still a proud man.
Won't show anybody else my wage
A blend in the crowd man
Is this anybody's golden age
Is this anybody's golden age
Is this anybody's golden age
Or am i dreaming of a golden cage
La la lo it's paper
La la lo it's iron
La la lo just paper
La la lo just iron
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nightingale
(jude johnstone)
Yesterday I thought that I walked alone
And that love was just a memory
But a nightingale followed me back home
And my love was waiting there for me
I had lost my faith as lovers often do
When the storm clouds gather overhead
But the nightingale sang a note so true
That I knew Id lost my fear instead
And to think that I said love was for fools
And that time would never heal these old wounds
But the nightingale saved a prayer for me
In the twilight he played a faithful tune
I have heard the lark over in the vale
And Ive heard the lonesome whippoorwill
But the sweetest song is the nightingales
And I know Ill never get my fill
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Lyrics from Dunhuang
Tune: “Eternal Longing”
1.
He was a traveler west of the river,
with wealth and eminence rare in this world.
All day long in vermilion towers
...dancing and singing songs.
The cup filled again and again, till he's drunk as mud;
lightly, lightly trading golden goblets,
wearing out the day tasting joys, pursuing pleasures—
Some people are rich and never go home.
2.
He was a traveler west of the river;
only he knew how lonely he was,
dust and dirt covering his face,
all day long being cheated by others.
Morning after morning standing by the west gate of the market,
the wind blowing the tears that came down in two streams,
gazing toward his native land so many roads away—
Some people are poor and never go home.
3.
He was a traveler west of the river,
then he took sick, lay an inch away from death.
Still he stayed on, looking for news,
though as time went by it seemed he'd have to depart.
The villagers dragged him to the west side of the road—
his father and mother knew nothing about it—
tied a tag on his body with his name written on it—
Some people die and never go home.
Tune: “Magpie on the Branch”
4.
I can't stand the wily magpie and all his extravagant stories!
He brings me good news, but what proof does he ever have?
One of these times when he flies by, I'll grab him, capture him live,
shut him up in a golden cage to put a stop to his chatter!
With the best of intentions I went to her, delivered my good news—
who'd have thought she'd shut me up in a golden cage?
I only hope her soldiering husband comes home soon
so she'll lift me up, turn me loose to head for the blue clouds!
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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My cage
my golden bars my home my cage
my immortality my isolated stage
My spiritual inspiration my comfort zone
my treasure, the only thing I come to own
I have watched and seen it all, through you
I’ve wasted and tasted every feeling that’s true
I’ve laughed I’ve felt ecstasy then it vanished away
I’ve grieved I’ve chocked then it ended one day
I’ve read many stories I’ve been visited by many of the suffering
I’ve seen many hurt people but with a smile still covering
I had a choice I could of even have chosen freedom
but why be released in this world, this devil’s kingdom
why be exposed why reveal my self to prejudice
why leave? Why live? Where life there no longer is
I’d rather last I’d rather grow I’d rather age
I’d rather live I’d rather die in my cage
poem by Ayesha Sartawi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paper & Iron
Paper, iron, wont buy eden
Working for paper and for iron
Work for the right to keep my tie on
Working for paper and for iron
Work for the unicorn and lion
I pray the kids arent starving
No chicken for the sunday carving
Ill stay for one more farthing
I take home my notes and coins every week
Im told Im worth much more
But the church says turn the other cheek
The other cheek
Paper, iron, wont buy eden.
I know the family needs me
Cant moan, the factory feeds me
Wont bite the hand that bleeds me
I take home my notes and coins every week
Ill inherit the earth Im told
But the church says to remain this meek
Remain this meek
Im still a proud man.
Wont show anybody else my wage
A blend in the crowd man
Is this anybodys golden age
Is this anybodys golden age
Is this anybodys golden age
Or am I dreaming of a golden cage
La la lo its paper
La la lo its iron
La la lo just paper
La la lo just iron
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Home
My home is calling
And my heart; responding
The abode of pleasures and exhilaration
Where my mind prepares for some missions
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
Am not among those who cry
Seeking for hope, but it's dry
Am a free man
Facing difficulties which is so hard
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
Do i look like a convict?
The one who cries in the prison
Or like the bee that flies
And returns with joy to it hive
No! But no! I am not
I don't crave for the monastery, I'm not a monk
All i want is to return back home
To stay with folks but not alone
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
I traveled abroad
I had much fun
I visited the queen
She offered me a tea
With all these pleasures
Without doubt cos am so sure
The home holds lot in hand
Treasures, happiness, so much to count
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
I went to Brazil
I saw their windmills
I ate their food
Which made me cool
Delicious was it their fried fish
The one i ate which made me wishing
Then i remember the panla which we eat at home
So delicious and irresistible for the hungry throat
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
I journeyed to Kenya
I saw a tiger
Its eyes scared me
Its claws; waiting for a meal
I rode on an elephant
So huge; so large
I saw lot of things
The zoo, the views
But still i craved
For my home; for my space
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
I traveled all around the world
And everything seemed so bored
My eyes craved only for my beautiful home
My hands, my mouth and my little nose
They are all wishing to see
My house, my room, my folks in the street
All i have to do is go back home
To stay with folks and sleep on their foams
For wherever you are meant to be
Your home provides a beautiful space to sleep
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep.
poem by Yahaya Habeeb Jprof Kayode
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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