Just because swans mate for life, I don't think it's that big of a deal. First of all, if you're a swan, you're probably not going to find a swan that looks that much better than the one you've got, so why not mate for life
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
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To Be And So On
To Be or…
The swan on the lake doesn’t know it is a swan,
they say. How do they know? A swan may look
at us and say to another swan “Darling humans
don’t who they are.” Quite right my lovely, they
are daft that way” (swans have lot in common
with actors, the lake is their stage and we are
their adoring audience) I know that because Tom,
the only actor I have met in the flesh, called me
darling, well, not only me but everyone he spoke
to. Tom died no one calls me darling anymore.
We only think we know ourselves, if we really did
it would be too scary to know that inside us lurks
a monster.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The swan (Terzanelle)
I saw a swan reflected on a pond
majestically with bended neck
with some little ones trailing beyond
speck upon speck
reflected on the glittering surface,
majestically with bended neck
as if sailing solemnly to efface
all doubt to its grace and splendour
reflected on the glittering surface
and emanating from the bird some warmth, some ardour
the tale of Andromache was reminded to me.
All doubt to its grace and splendour
was made insignificant by sheer beauty
and without mate with widowed grief
the tale of Andromache was reminded to me
who loved the hero Hector but brief.
I saw a swan reflected on a pond
and without mate with widowed grief
with some little ones trailing beyond.
[References: Les Fleurs du Mal: The Swan by Charles Pierre Baudelaire. The swan by Roy Campbell.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Black Swan
When the swans turned my sister into a swan
I would go to the lake, at night, from milking:
The sun would look out through the reeds like a swan,
A swan's red beak; and the beak would open
And inside there was darkness, the stars and the moon.
Out on the lake, a girl would laugh.
"Sister, here is your porridge, sister,"
I would call; and the reeds would whisper,
"Go to sleep, go to sleep, little swan."
My legs were all hard and webbed, and the silky
Hairs of my wings sank away like stars
In the ripples that ran in and out of the reeds:
I heard through the lap and hiss of water
Someone's "Sister . . . sister," far away on the shore,
And then as I opened my beak to answer
I heard my harsh laugh go out to the shore
And saw - saw at last, swimming up from the green
Low mounds of the lake, the white stone swans:
The white, named swans . . . "It is all a dream,"
I whispered, and reached from the down of the pallet
To the lap and hiss of the floor.
And "Sleep, little sister," the swan all sang
From the moon and stars and frogs of the floor.
But the swan my sister called, "Sleep at last, little sister,"
And stroked all night, with a black wing, my wings.
poem by Randall Jarrell
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Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale
Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale.
From what land do you come,
O Swan? to what shore will you fly?
Where would you take your rest,
O Swan, and what do you seek?
Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me!
There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule:
where the terror of Death is no more.
There the woods of spring are a-bloom,
and the fragrant scent 'He is I' is borne on the wind:
There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed,
and desires no other joy.
A Swan Song(dying sentence)
Remember me, remember my swan song,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live it all over again,
I can't re-orient myself,
I can't live that stain of my plastered smile again,
Let this be the last moment,
Let me say the last good-bye,
It won't count anything now,
So let me lay in silence,
Life has treated me well and I have had enough of it,
Lets end this game,
Enough of milling in and out,
Hear my swan song,
And let this end now,
I need to be away,
away from these thorns,
far far away,
Where you'll only see my memories,
my shadows,
my untold stories buried after me,
and my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
I feel like a fish out of water,
from pillar to post,
fallen back upon,
Let me be buried under sand,
let me give my final test,
I'll never return, its time to sing,
sing my last swan song,
Hear my swan song,
maybe this moment or the other,
my soul would rest in peace,
before disappearing,
let me sing,
sing my swan song,
I only remember now the memory lived in me,
a perfectly encapsulated morsel,
of a good past,
from piebald brush strokes swaying,
to barren now, that I'd become,
As I'll say my last goodbye,
hear my swan song,
because now you'll never hear my voice again,
for ever and ever and ever...
Written on 5/6/11
poem by Ayesha Riaz
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Trumpeter Swans
TRUMPETER SWANS
Neither prone to liaison
Prefer to mate for life
“Trumpeter Swans”
Unto afterlife
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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In the Spirit of Rumi,31-The Swan
How beautiful the white swan,
gliding effortlessly, it seems,
the sunlight shining on those feathers
protecting its skin and body better
than do clothes protect a man!
White as if to proclaim God’s beauty mov ing
on the waters, like the first day of Creation,
it dips its carefully constructed neck so elegantly
to find its invisible food…
while invisibly too, under the surface,
its legs paddle hard and fast…
Who would dare to call the swan
a hypocrite because of this!
In India they call the saints
who seem to glide so effortlessly
through life, glide across our gaze
so that for a moment, we would be them…
call them Paramahansa, great swan..
who knows how hard a swan
finds its life, moving against a fierce current,
lifting its huge body into the air,
knowing direction more clearly than any man…
who knows how hard a saint
works invisibly all the time, has worked,
will work, eternally… for us,
watching on the river-bank of life
the river, itself yearning for the sea,
to lose itself in the vast harbour of the waters…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Ladylove
There once was a lady by the name of Ladylove,
who was said to be a saint sent from above.
But no one knew just who she was;
a ghost indeed was she, was she.
She approached a swain one day, one sorrowful day;
stealing his heart as she ran away.
She left with a flutter in a moonlit still,
her beauty graces her for a splendid time.
She haste to a pond of midnight glow,
a lad soon followed as he watched her go.
She looked in his eyes with sadness there,
looking away as she's engulfed in light.
She step a foot in glistening water still,
meandering a swan not by will.
The boy he haste to grasp her hand,
letting his love guide as they shift to swans;
he a swan of black and she white,
they soar now into the ever moonlight.
The story now told of a love everlasting,
of two young swans, on moonlit casting.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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23a, Swan Hill
(ian hunter)
(transcribed by justin purington; corrections by colin ford)
Wrote this poem
Called the floods roll on
He said this aint yours,
Whered you get it from?
You must have stole it from a book,
Oh yeah
You must have stole it from a book.
cause you aint frail
You aint beautiful,
And I dont fancy you
At all.
Youd be a ruin
If looks could kill
23 a, swan hill
Stiff with rage
Screaming at the sky
Innocence breaks
Says she wants to die
Im assuming Im alive
Oh yeah
Im assuming Im alive
She pushes and she pulls
My legs go weak
In fascinating terror
The whole world moves
And Im standing still
In 23a swan hill
And its always raining
And you never ask why
You never give yourself a shot
You just sit and watch your life go by
Kicking stones
At a still life
Want to pull it down
Slash it slash it
There must be some way out here
There must be some way out here
This aint right
There must be more to life
Than breaking and entering
Doing peoples heads in
Alcohol, nicotine
Thinking what I might have been
You would be a ruin
If looks could kill
23 a, swan hill
And the whole world moves
And Im standing still
In 23 a, swan hill
And I will
And I will
And I will
And I will
In 23 a, swan hill
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swan
Traffic jams, Concorde drones
TV's and radios drown me out
You won't change slamming doors
Temper, temper, that tongue of yours, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
Dumbells crash, babies cry
A thousand voices, mostly lies, drown me out
The underground, Marble Arch
The deafening snap of breaking hearts, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
Barking dogs, the lonely roam
The great unlaid making their way home, drown me out
I've told you once when it comes to love
I'm like a swan, I only love once
I've told you once push comes to shove
I'm like a swan
I only love, only love, only love once
song performed by by Right Said Fred
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You're My Mate
Ill tell you what I think, I think shes a cow
Shes let you down too many times now
Lets go for a drink, forget it for now
Put It behind you, I think its your round
Cause youre my mate and I will stand by you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
And in the face of things that could hurt you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
Cause youre my mate and I will stand by you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
And in the face of things that could hurt you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
Cause youre my mate
Ill tell you what I think, I think hes a pain
He aint got a car, but he drives you insane
Lets go for a drink and sink a few
Enough about him lets talk about you
Cause youre my mate and I will stand by you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
Cause youre my mate and I will stand by you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
And in the face of things that could hurt you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
Cause youre my mate
All I wanna do is get drunk here with you
All I wanna do is get drunk here with you
All I wanna do is get drunk here with you
All I wanna do is get drunk here with you
Cause youre my mate and I will stand by you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
And in the face of things that could hurt you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
Cause youre my mate and I will stand by you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
And in the face of things that could hurt you
Youre my mate and I will stand by you
Cause youre my mate
Cause youre my mate
Cause youre my mate
Cause youre my mate
Cause youre my mate
TAXI
song performed by by Right Said Fred
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Black Swans
In Iceland early one morning
A black swan without warning
Made a dramatic appearance
An extremely rare occurrence
It was actually the first of a series
That would raise many queries
Unexpectedly dreams were shattered
With Stock Markets getting battered
They called it a financial holocaust
The result of greed and blind trust
In unfettered capitalist manoeuvres
That made fools of gullible investors
Write offs and bail out plans followed
The bankers their pride finally swallowed
And set about changing their strategy
To cope with the crisis intelligently
But no one imagined that the Black Swan
Still lurking by and watching with scorn
Was waiting for an auspicious date
To announce the arrival of his mate
A second black swan sauntered in
This time with a bang and a lot of din
It spewed not fire works but smoke
Into the skies which did really choke
Not only Iceland but rest of Europe too
Flights were grounded and no one flew
The world watched in horror and fear
As the black ash blew out of the crater
Airports still look like a chaotic mess
Leaving stranded passengers in distress
Hopefully no baby swan will arrive with the stork
The adult pair having already caused enough havoc
NB: I have extended Nassim Nicholas Taleb's Black Swan Theory to describe the recent unparalleled catastrophes that hit a small country like Iceland
poem by Sandra Martyres
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An aggrieved heart
Two happy birds singing together,
Two little bees humming together,
Two pretty swans gliding together,
Two harmonious hearts beating together.
One happy bird stopped its song,
One little bee dropped along,
One pretty swan was marooned,
One heart plucked and swooned.
One sad bird sings no more,
One morose bee is so sore,
One poor swan is washed ashore,
One aggrieved heart weeps to the core.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Swan Lee
Swan lee got up at the running foot pow-wow,
Heading from the fire to his waiting canoe.
Chattering squaw untied the wigwam door,
The chief blew smoke rings two by two!
The land in silence stands...
Swan lee, his boat by the bank in the darkness,
Loosened the rope in the creek is entwined.
A feather from the wing of a wild young eagle,
Pointed to the land where his fortune he'd find
The land in silence stands
Swan lee paddled on from the land of his fathers,
His eyes scanned the undergrowth on either side.
From the shore hung a hot, heavy, creature infested
Tropic, swan lee had a bow by his side
The land in silence stands
Swan lee kept time, half on land, half on water,
Grizzly bear and raccoon his fare.
He followed his ears to the great water fall,
Swan lee knew deep down that his squaw was there!
The land in silence stands....
Suddenly the rush of the mighty great thunder,
Confronted swan lee as his song he sang,
In the dawn, with his squaw, he was battling homewards
It was all written down by long silas lang.
The land in silence stands...
The land in silence stands...
The land in silence stands.
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mate can do no Wrong
We learnt the creed at Hungerford,
We learnt the creed at Bourke;
We learnt it in the good times
And learnt it out of work.
We learnt it by the harbour-side
And on the billabong:
'No matter what a mate may do,
A mate can do no wrong!'
He’s like a king in this respect
(No matter what they do),
And, king-like, shares in storm and shine
The Throne of Life with you.
We learnt it when we were in gaol
And put it in a song:
' No matter what a mate may do,
A mate can do no wrong!'
They’ll say he said a bitter word
When he’s away or dead.
We’re loyal to his memory,
No matter what he said.
And we should never hesitate,
But strike out good and strong,
And jolt the slanderer on the jaw –
A mate can do no wrong !
poem by Henry Lawson
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Summer Floats As A Waltzing Swan
Summer floats like a swan
Gracefully with blossoms so fair
Swans waltzing with melodious flare
Dancing in the lakes and streams
With wings of Summery dreams
Stargazer lilies of the mountains
The lily pods in the fountains
Floating sublime without a care
As Summer's fragrance fills the air
And her wings gently splash the
Sparkling waters of pulchritude rare
As we the dreamers stop to stare. Summer floats like a swan
Like nature's ballerina on the lakes
Dancing with her ballet slippers on
Gliding to the wistful mood
The Song of the Summer woods,
The beauteous Waltz of the Swans.
Summer's moments, the heart's keepsakes
Moments never forgotten in the sparkling
Crystal waters kissed by the sun.
The overture of nature's orchestra
The swans in aquatic Arabesque
A musical arpeggio, one by one.
poem by Carolyn Padgett Summerlin
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My Swan, Let us Fly
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land has an up-ended well
Whose mouth, narrow as a thread,
The married soul draws water from
Without a rope or pitcher.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
Clouds never cluster there,
Yet it goes on and on raining.
Don’t keep squatting outside in the yard –
Come in! Get drenched without a body!
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
That land is always soaked in moonlight;
Darkness can never come near it.
It is flooded always with the dazzle
Of not one, but a million suns.
My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.
Adair Welcker, Poet
The Swan of Avon died-the Swan
Of Sacramento'll soon be gone;
And when his death-song he shall coo,
Stand back, or it will kill you too.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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The Swan And The Fawn
Finely Freckled Fawn called to Suave, Stately Swan,
“Please help me quickly. I need you to come on.
When I took a drink in the pond, what did I see?
But a poor little fawn drowning who looked just like me.”
Sir Swan explained “Be calm my dear and listen here.
It’s only your reflection.” he explained with affection.
“Each time you take a drink just think how you can smile,
As that pretty face looking at you is happy all the while.”
“Oh thank you Sir Swan.” said the grateful Freckled Fawn.
“All my fears and all my tears from now on will be gone.
Suave, Stately Swan and Finely Freckled Fawn are friends
Because of thoughtfulness and gratitude upon which friendship depends.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Mate Soul
To find mate soul
Its like asking a dream
to become reality
becouse mate soul is
that what you feel
to someone
the fluid that carries
little butterflies in stomach
sweet drunkennes without alcohol
Mate soul is
when you see reality
sometimes feel that
his mouth stinks
you do not like the same
music every day
to go fishing even
when his mother
came to guests
but he makes same good cofee
its still buys you gifts
stands up to kiss you
when you come tired from work,
and when you sober of
sweet drunenness
and still feel a sweet taste.
This is mate soul
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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