Words are like eggs: when they are hatched they have wings.
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Words are like newly hatched eggs: they already have wings.
If you want your eggs hatched, sit on them yourself.
The Hen's Complaint
Beside an incubator stood
The would-be mother of a brood.
With drooping wings and nodding head,
These are the clucked-out words she said:
'O, vile invention of the age,
You fill me with a burning rage!
Unfeeling monster, moved by steam,
You rob me of life's sweetest dream!
Deprived of offspring which I crave,
I must go childless to my grave.
My aching wings which long to cover
A chirping brood of nestlings over,
No more may know that comfort sweet,
Since chickens may be hatched by heat.
Three weeks of quiet expectation
(Full many a flighty hen's salvation)
I am denied, for now men say
A hen should be content to lay,
And furnish eggs to incubate,
And setting hens are out of date.
Alas, for such a cruel fashion-'
The angry fowl paused, choked with passion,
While from behind a strong hand caught her
And doused her in a tub of water.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Pearls
There was a time
When I shared
My every little perception
With you.
Like a pregnant oyster
I unloaded pearls of writhing emotions
Upon your limitless ocean bed;
As dinosaurs laying eggs upon sands,
Never bothered to think-
What would become
Of the overburdened sand-bed
Once the eggs hatched.
Now that you are gone,
I collect my own pearls
And string them up into wreaths
Of unexpressed desires,
And set them afloat
Upon my ocean of tears.
A Dragon
Faster dragons will question my integrity,
Like a man detested I seek my revenge
On the bravery which defiled the bad dragon
That defends itself, itself and no other.
A little disorder is an alphabet to learn
For this dragon to learn and teach to its young.
The eggs have hatched and little do you know -
A word has been conveyed of late - you are mad!
The mad dragon has been a large eater of its own eggs!
poem by Naveed Akram
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It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.
quote by C.S. Lewis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Symbols
I watched a rosebud very long
Brought on by dew and sun and shower,
Waiting to see the perfect flower:
Then, when I thought it should be strong,
It opened at the matin hour
And fell at evensong.
I watched a nest from day to day,
A green nest full of pleasant shade,
Wherein three speckled eggs were laid:
But when they should have hatched in May,
The two old birds had grown afraid
Or tired, and flew away.
Then in my wrath I broke the bough
That I had tended so with care,
Hoping its scent should fill the air;
I crushed the eggs, not heeding how
Their ancient promise had been fair:
I would have vengeance now.
But the dead branch spoke from the sod,
And the eggs answered me again:
Because we failed dost thou complain?
Is thy wrath just? And what if God,
Who waiteth for thy fruits in vain,
Should also take the rod?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Feel Of A Poem
the words are there
squatting
not in a position to attack
they're more of
in between
a choice of whether to retreat
accept defeat
or surge and collide and
burst and die
the pen looks at all of them
they're so helpless
like unborn babies
like hatched turtles
that do not know where the
sea is
and with a rash decision
the pen strikes at all of them
the hands are fed up
the heart is broken
the mind is dizzy
and the poet goes outside the house
looks at the garden
heaves a sigh
and then keeps a secret upon itself
it is the feel of the poem
and no one knows it except
the words themselves who finally
opened up
their wings and flew away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Scandal is like an egg; when it is hatched it has wings.
Sleep Talk
Sleep talks more from not understanding it,
and while they come too see our ghost it listens,
most know we exchange passed glances knowingly.
Waiting less for those few eggs that hatched and flew,
What has raven done, with some bright shiney eyes?
And the rest outside the windows nest, sits empty.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Birds Nest
Have you not seen the bird
flying far, again and again
collecting straws to weave a nest-
a home- for its young ones to be.
As eggs are hatched
out come the young
chirping or crying, to be fed,
the bird flies again, and again
collecting grains
to feed the young
who cannot fly
It chews the grain but does not swallow
beak to beak it feeds young fellow
caressingly and lovingly
so all are fed properly.
Young get wings, by and by:
and coaxed by the mother bird;
attempt to fly.
Then suddenly one day
the young one flies far away
It knows not where: and
The nest gets barren,
Lonely...
The bird DOES NOT GRIEVE
OR DOES IT
We humans, we do not know.
Green Eggs & Ham
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
I do not like them here or there
I do not like them anywhere
I do not like them in a boat
I would not, could not, with a goat
I will not eat them in the rain
I do not like them on a train
I do not like them in a box
I will not eat them with a fox
I do not like them in a house
I would not, could not, with a mouse
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them
Sam, I am
Green eggs and ham
Green eggs and ham
Dont like green eggs and ham
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words
Be careful of words,
even the miraculous ones.
For the miraculous we do our best,
sometimes they swarm like insects
and leave not a sting but a kiss.
They can be as good as fingers.
They can be as trusty as the rock
you stick your bottom on.
But they can be both daisies and bruises.
Yet I am in love with words.
They are doves falling out of the ceiling.
They are six holy oranges sitting in my lap.
They are the trees, the legs of summer,
and the sun, its passionate face.
Yet often they fail me.
I have so much I want to say,
so many stories, images, proverbs, etc.
But the words aren't good enough,
the wrong ones kiss me.
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
but with the wings of a wren.
But I try to take care
and be gentle to them.
Words and eggs must be handled with care.
Once broken they are impossible
things to repair.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Every Breath That I Take...
My heart doth make
A beat for the rhythm of my love,
Carried by my wings of a dove
Flying round you, loving you, calling
You are still, a signal to my fluttering wings
That descends gentle, close onto your body
High in the sky of the trees our interwoven sticks
Of love await your nest eggs...I fly away.
As the moon says goodbye sunshine peeks at your eyes
Sparkling brightly as you warm to your clutch of eggs,
I call to you for we must fly to make an appearance
By the church bells the scene is laid,
For a wedding spell.
A young couple wed embrace and kiss
Something we never miss, to bless
From the love of a dove.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Every Breath of a Dove
Every breath that I take
My heart doth make
A beat for the rhythm of love
Carried by the wings of a dove,
Flying round you, loving you, calling
You are still, a signal to my fluttering wings
That descends me gentle, close onto your body
High in the sky of the trees our interwoven sticks
Of love await your nest eggs...I fly away.
As the moon says goodbye sunshine peeks at your eyes
Sparkling brightly as you warm to your clutch of eggs,
I call to you for we must fly to make an appearance
By the church bell the scene is laid,
For a wedding spell.
A young couple wed embrace and kiss
Something we never miss,
For the love of a dove.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Sweet Dreams
A sweetness clouded my minced mind,
The same just be with a meaning.
The hell of thinking boils on like oil,
Save the savage tank, save the soldier.
The eggs are hatched by all those animals
Offered the peace of eternity.
A sweet dreamer attacks and bursts in,
To strongly offer peace, not war.
The real purpose is unknown, much more
Is the purpose known to some.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Putting all the eggs in one basket
Every time I leave
Mother always reminds me
This: do not put all your eggs
In one basket,
Because when I fall
All the eggs will break and I will be left with
Nothing.
Even a nincompoop understands that.
Oh mama! I do not have those many eggs
And she does not have any basket,
We sure both, have nothing to lose.
Thanks for the reminder, anyway.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Eggs Of The Blue Bird On The Nest
the blue bird
takes care of its nest
all the white eggs
warm beneath its feathers
all those nights
and even cold days
and then when the eggs hatch
the fledgelings
prematurely spread their wings
fall off from the branch
where the nest hangs
on the following morning
you see the ants feasting on their flesh
ah! the blue bird sings again
readies itself for the rain
it escapes away from its sorrows
and flies away...far, far away
far, far away....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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All birds must be by now back in their nests
All birds must be by now back in their nests
Sharing with their offsprings
The experiences of the day
And feeding them
With the fruits, nuts and worms
Selectively gathered
With love and care
So that they grow
And soon become strong and skilled enough
To fly on their own wings
They would have started teaching
Their young ones
How to mend the nests
Which twig would go where
Which spongy feather would go where
So that all can have a comfortable sleep
Telling the stories of the past
How the eggs those hatched them
Were protected from invaders
And how they were waiting for these young wonders
Come out breaking the shell
That housed them and helped them shape
Also cautioning them against
Dangerous hungry invaders
With the scheme to devour them
And not to venture into the wind
Before they are trained adequately
In spreading the wings
And in perching on branches
Without the fear of fall
Mom, you did not get us the fruits of this tree
A query from a young one
And mom said, wait two more weeks let the tree flower
And blossom with its orange flowers
Fruits appear within a month
Mom is living is just struggling
No, the dear one
Living is a challenge
Successful living is facing them with joy
Regardless of your overcoming
Or succumbing to the challenge
A clear demonstration of care and love
All birds must be by now in their nests
I am waiting at the local rail station
For the next train towards home
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Discover The Universe
Eggs are falling! Eggs are falling! !
Of blackberries, strawberries and rasberries;
The man with the Bible is about to read.
Of the walking-talking Bible,
Of red wine and candle lights of hope!
Discover the universe by learning the unknown.
Eggs are falling! Eggs are falling! !
The world is with much darkness around us;
Where, a teacher always becomes a student.
Of the half-moon stables,
Of the full-moon houses,
In the middle of St.Pauli with my words;
This universe is full of new things to learn from.
Of the lines of poetry,
Of the acts of love and peace;
Eggs are falling! Eggs are falling! !
Of red rooms of roses,
Of blue rooms of love;
Respectable to a muse so sweet like,
Roses of the night!
To walk through the Saxon forest like,
An art by the mile;
From dusk to dawn like,
An African in blue!
A poem by the yard,
Of fried potato-chips and fish;
To walk along the Elbe from sunrise to sunset.
Along the ykes of love,
Alpong the muse of one's heart;
These are the views of the walking-talking Bible with,
Everyone on board! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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