The Bird Eats Up Her Own Eggs
The bird of hope
Parches on the top
Leaving the reality
On the ground
Unable to with stand
The cruelty of means
Soon rushes down
With cracking sound
Of broken wings
Orphan…
On the nest of helplessness
Nothing comes out
After long incubation
Except frustration
Seeing upon the chicks of others
Becomes jealous
And starts to eat up
Her own laid eggs.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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A Little Bird
a little brown bird
walks on the ground
hops like a kangaroo
unable to fly
it fell from the tree
from a nest
on wings still not fit
for flying
i try to pick it up
and i hear a bird chirping
watching
oh, a mother
perhaps...
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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Broken Wings
Broken wings
Broken wings
Twirls in ballroom gowns
Echos of glory
And reminders of things lost
Broken wings
Broken wings
Only feet to help carry on now
A thousand voices
Singing the same song
Broken wings
Broken wings
Feathers litter the ground
Where the proud used to stand
Where only broken wings remain
poem by Autumn Winds
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Strange Bird
Strange bird
By: jimmy buffett, jay oliver
1989
Half fast and seldom seen
He dont blip the radar screen
On the deck below the dune
Under the commanders moon
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
God only knows where the strange bird goes when hes flying
Everybodys trying to find him
But they dont know where to start
The ornithologist lady says that he has wings on his heart
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
Frequent flyer, seldom seen
High above the caribbean
In my day Ive met a few but hes the strangest bird thats true
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
But hes in love with the lady of the waters
And she lives somewhere up around cheauxvan
Hes gonna circle high above her runway of love
Until she gives him her permission to land
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
Watch out girl, hes a strange bird
Strange bird flying low
cross the gulf of mexico
Strange bird not like all the rest
Watch out girl hes a strange bird
Shoot you down, hes a strange bird
Its a bird, its a plane, its a strange bird
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blue Tit's Nest
Some childhood memories with us seem to linger
And I recall when I was nine or so
Of seeing blue tit fly from hole in standing tree stump
One April day more than forty years ago.
I stood on tip toes and tried to look inside the tree stump
But all seemed dark in there I needed light
I hurried back home for to fetch a flash lamp
And what I saw a memorable sight.
A little nest of moss and hay and lined with feathers
And nine pale eggs with freckles brown to red
Laid by the little bird with yellow unders
Blue wings and tail and tiny blue cap on head.
I marvelled at this wondrous sight of Nature
How one small bird so many eggs could lay
The memory all those years has remained with me
And I still can picture what I see today.
I still can picture forty five years later
Nine speckled eggs in nest of moss and hay
Some things from childhood always remain with us
And from the memory never fade away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Don't Stand So Close
don't stand so close
by the police
young teacher, the subject, of school girl fantasy
she wants him, so badly, knows what she wants to be
inside him, there's no room, this girl's an open page
bookmark in, she's so close now, this girl is half his age
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
her friends are, so jealous, you know how bad girls get
sometimes it's not so easy, to be the teacher's pet
temptation, frustration, so bad it makes him cry
wet bus stop, she's waiting, his car is warm and dry
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
loose talk in, the classroom, to hurt they try and try
strong words in, the staffroom, the accusations fly
it's no use, he sees her, he starts to shake and cough
just like the, old man in, that book by nabakov
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
don't stand, don't stand so
don't stand so close to me
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quail's Nest
I wandered out one rainy day
And heard a bird with merry joys
Cry 'wet my foot' for half the way;
I stood and wondered at the noise,
When from my foot a bird did flee--
The rain flew bouncing from her breast
I wondered what the bird could be,
And almost trampled on her nest.
The nest was full of eggs and round--
I met a shepherd in the vales,
And stood to tell him what I found.
He knew and said it was a quail's,
For he himself the nest had found,
Among the wheat and on the green,
When going on his daily round,
With eggs as many as fifteen.
Among the stranger birds they feed,
Their summer flight is short and low;
There's very few know where they breed,
And scarcely any where they go.
poem by John Clare
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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.
The Cuckoo
No lyric line I ever penned
The praise this parasitic bird;
And what is more, I don't intend
To write a laudatory word,
Since in my garden robins made
A nest with eggs of dainty spot,
And then a callous cuckoo laid
A lone on on the lot.
Of course the sillies hatched it out
Along with their two tiny chicks,
And there it threw its weight about,
But with the others would not mix.
In fact, it seemed their guts to hate,
And crossly kicked them to the ground,
So that next morning, sorry fate!
Two babes stone dead I found.
These stupid robins, how they strove
To gluttonize that young cuckoo!
And like a prodigy it throve,
And daily greedier it grew.
How it would snap and glup and spit!
Till finally it came to pass,
Growing too big the nest to fit,
It fell out on the grass.
So for a week they fed it there,
As in a nook of turf it lay;
But it was scornful of their care,
for it was twice as big as they.
When lo! one afternoon I heard
A flutelike call: Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
Then suddenly that foulsome bird
Flapped to its feet and flew.
I'm sure it never said goodbye
To its fond foster Pa and Ma,
Though to their desolated sigh
It might have chirruped: "Au revoir."
But no, it went in wanton mood,
Flying the coop for climates new
And so I say: "Ingratitude,
They name's Cuckoo."
poem by Robert William Service
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Don't Stand So Close To Me
Young teacher, the subject
Of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly
Knows what she wants to be
Inside her there's longing
This girl's an open page
Book marking - she's so close now
This girl is half his age
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Her friends are so jealous
You know how bad girls get
Sometimes it's not so easy
To be the teacher's pet
Temptation, frustration
So bad it makes him cry
Wet bus stop, she's waiting
His car is warm and dry
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Loose talk in the classroom
To hurt they try and try
Strong words in the staffroom
The accusations fly
It's no use, he sees her
He starts to shake and cough
Just like the old man in
That book by Nabakov
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As There Aren`t Safe Nests...
A migrating bird chirps into my ears,
'Can you make a nest for me that will be safe for ever? '
I don`t know what he means by a safe nest
For my nest has been on the verge of a collapse.
He flies away dreaming about a safe nest.
That leaves me with a question, ' Where to fix a safe nest? '
Safe nests should never be on the branches of trees
For trees themselves are tormented by storms and quakes.
Safe nests shouldn`t be on the roofs of man`s homes either
For his mischevious kids may throw away the eggs.
Safe nests should not be under the water or in the skies
For the fury and the terror of these elements are disastrous.
Safe nests shouldn`t be anywhere that eyes see or ears hear
For there are humans living on this earth.
You migrate my dear bird to anywhere you feel it safe
And never return to these unsafe homes.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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I Hope It Rains...
I Hope it Rains…
I Hope it Thunders with Lightning
I Hope The Wind Kicks-Up, ‘til its Frightening
I Hope There’s a Hurricane Sighting…
‘Cause, that’s How I Feel, Right Now
‘Cause You’re Leaving Me Anyhow
After All the Love I Gave to You…
… Now, I can’t even Talk to You
… I Hope It Rains…
I Hope it Snows…
I Hope an Ice-Berg - Breaks Your Back at the Door
I Hope a Blizzard - Buries You… Ice-Age-Slow
I Hope an Avalanche ‘Catch ya’, as You Go…
‘Cause, that’s How I Feel, Right Now
‘Cause You’re Leaving Me Anyhow
After All The Love I Gave to You…
Now, I can’t even Reason with You
… I Hope It Snows…
… This is The Fury, of a Woman Scorned
… if I had my way… You’d Never Been Born!
… I Hope It Storms…
I Hope it Hails…
I Hope it Hits You in the Head and Beats You Down
I Hope it Crushes Your Heart and Dreams – All Around!
I Hope it Knocks Your Suitcase and Soul, to the Ground
… Honey … I Hope You Never Make it to Town…
‘Cause that’s How I Feel, Right Now
‘Cause You’re Leaving Me Anyhow
After All The Love I Gave to You…
Now, I can’t even Hold Onto You
… Look – Here Comes The Rain
… Here Comes The Rain…
I Hope The Clouds – Start Fighting
I Hope the Air – Starts Biting
I Hope You’re in a Tornado and It Starts Tightening
… I Hope it Floods Out There – ‘til You Look Like A Viking!
… Here Comes The Rain … Here Comes The Rain
poem by MoonBee Canady
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If Love Is A Wild Bird
if love is a wild bird,
then i must be a cliff or a rock
far away from the trees,
where the wild bird
builds its nest,
i must be an unknown forest
where the eggs are hidden
where the hatching is done
without even my knowing.
if love is a wild bird
beyond the grasp of my twigs
then i must be the night that hovers
on its wings
and stays also wildly on its dreams
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Robot
inside the nest of
your marriage
your husband with
a thick face
has changed you
into a robot-bird
with mechanical
wings, with a beak
made of steel and
with claws made
of magnetic wires.
another sadness.
another cruelty
on the nest that
they expect must
bring love and
rest. You give me
a blank stare and
i said to myself:
i perfectly understand.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Matty Owens Bog
The pipe of the curlew I fancy I hear
In Matty Owens bog many miles north of here
In the calm of a June evening melodious and clear
In Summer a beautiful time of year
By the watery bog hole with her blotched eggs neath her breast
Cloaked by the rank rushes his quiet wife sits on her nest
The curlews of the future to life she will bring
The beauty of Nature is an amazing thing.
The pink breasted bullfinch so lovely to see
Perched on a high branch of a silver birch tree
One that one could stand and admire all day long
The beautiful bird with an ordinary song.
In the river pool the moorhen utters her shrill warning cry
To her young to alert them of danger nearby
Three tiny dark chicks with red faces mum's warning does heed
And swim into cover to hide in the reed.
Above Matty Owens bog in the still of the night
The male snipe with his tail in the Summer moonlight
He proclaims his territory in the night sky
And drums out a warning to other male snipe as he fly.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Why
Why?
My human eyes gaze at the sky,
The Beauty imprisoned by the lie,
My tormented soul wishes to fly,
My body aching, begging to die.
Why?
Beauty sleeps in the heart,
True infinity in everyone's hope,
Reality and serenity so far apart,
Oblivion promised at the top of the slope.
Why?
Constrained by man's domination,
Twisted by vanity and frustration,
Fearful of the only solution,
Absolute peace in emancipation.
Why?
The dreamer refuses to live a lie,
Impossibility no matter how hard he may try,
His broken wings, the final sigh,
Again Beauty slumbers, humanity's cry.
Why?
God is dead, humanity crumbles,
Goodness has fled, Beauty stumbles,
The truth is red, away life tumbles,
Cruelty is lead, wickedness rumbles.
Why?
We are blind, we can't see,
Our kind is extinct, we must flee,
Hope we cannot find, so let us be,
No solace of mind, never again peace.
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
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Alas! Slowly disappearing Summer?
A weather bird seeks a secured nest
to lay her eggs and the offspring
definitely fly before the next summer?
While whistling the old man peeps
through his shattered window
And he counts like childhood days
How many summers
that he could fly
with his darned wings?
[As outward beauty disappears one must hope it goes in! ]-Tennessee Williams
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Period Of Adjustment
In haste you accept me like
Whirlwind
Romancing the cliffs and stone
Then we settle for the nest of
An eagle
Up there where no one climbs
The eggs are safe
What have I become of myself?
Something you feed on
I am still this fish
With scales and gills
Unable to adapt to your lungs and beaks
and your threatening claws
and wings
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My king
You never had
A real dream love
Your ideas,
Empowered you
So deeply
Making you completely
Unable
To turn your dreams
Into reality.
You didn't taste
The rain
And never danced
Its dance
Holding your love
Feeling the water
Seeping
Into your skin
You never cried
For not being a child
Any longer,
Even when you forgot
Yourself
Falling away
Into your very old
Abyss
You never screamed
The darkness,
And you never had
The courage
To make love
In the snow,
Melting its coldness
On the ground,
And hearing
The chicks of snowy plover
Pipping inside
Of their eggs
So, don't touch my soul
You cannot be my king.
You didn't make me who I am.
If you could really love me,
I would never let you go.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Dont Stand So Close To Me
Young teacher, the subject
Of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly
Knows what she wants to be
Inside her theres longing
This girls an open page
Book marking - shes so close now
This girl is half his age
Dont stand, dont stand so
Dont stand so close to me
Her friends are so jealous
You know how bad girls get
Sometimes its not so easy
To be the teachers pet
Temptation, frustration
So bad it makes him cry
Wet bus stop, shes waiting
His car is warm and dry
Dont stand, dont stand so
Dont stand so close to me
Loose talk in the classroom
To hurt they try and try
Strong words in the staffroom
The accusations fly
Its no use, he sees her
He starts to shake and cough
Just like the old man in
That book by nabakov
Dont stand, dont stand so
Dont stand so close to me
Dont stand, dont stand so
Dont stand so close to me
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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